Presently, in the general move, Lord Fordyce and his lady love emerged with two other people they had been talking to, and Henry came up to Michael with outstretched hand.

He was awfully glad to see him, he said.  Then this estranged husband and wife were face to face.

It was a wonderful moment for both of them, and with all the schooling that each one had been through, it was extremely difficult to behave naturally.  Michael did not fight with himself, except to keep from all outward expression; he knew he was simply overcome with emotion; but Sabine continued to throw dust in her own eyes.  The sudden wild beating of her heart she put down to every other reason but the true one.  It was most wrong of Michael to have come to this party; but it was, of course, done out of bravado to show her that she did not matter to him at all—­so with supreme sangfroid she greeted him casually, and then turned eyes of tenderness to Henry.

“You were going to show me the miniatures in the next room, Lord Fordyce—­were you not?” she said, sweetly, and took a step on toward the door, leaving Michael with pain and rage for company.

She had never allowed Henry to kiss her since that one occasion at Heronac.  It was not as it should be, she affirmed—­until she were free and really engaged to him, she prayed him to behave always only as a friend.  Lord Fordyce acquiesced, as he would have done to any penance she chose to impose upon him, and in his secret thoughts rather respected her for her decision; he was then more than delighted when she put her slender hand upon his arm with possessive familiarity as soon as they had reached the anteroom where the collection of miniatures were kept; but he did not know that she was aware that Michael stood where he could see them through the archway.

“My darling!” and he lifted the white fingers to his lips.  Sabine had particularly beautiful hands, and they were his delight.  She never wore any rings—­only her wedding-ring and the one great pearl Henry had persuaded her to let him give her, but this was on her right hand.

“It would mean nothing for me to have it on the left one—­while that bar of gold is there,” she had told him.  “I will only take it if you let me have it as a gage of friendship,” and as ever he agreed.  He was so passionately in love with her, there was nothing in the world he would not have done or left undone to please her.  His eye followed her always with rapture, and her slightest wish was instantly obeyed.  Sabine was naturally an autocrat, and, but for the great generosity of her spirit, might have made him suffer considerably, but she did not, being consistently gentle and sweet.

“My darling!” Henry repeated, in the little anteroom, while his fond eyes devoured her face.  “Sometimes I love you so it frightens me—­My God, if anything were to take you from me now, I do not think I could bear it.”

Sabine shivered as she bent down to look at a case of Cosways in a show table.