“How much longer can you stay away from England, Lawrence?” she asked him.

“Oh—­a fortnight, I should think,” he answered.  “I am not tied to any particular date.  You like it here, I hope?”

“Immensely!  Are—­our friends going to remain?”

“I haven’t heard them say anything about moving on yet,” he answered.

“Are you in love with the Duchess still, Lawrence?”

“Am I—­Blanche!”

“Don’t be angry!  You made a mistake once, you know.  Don’t make another.  I’m not a jealous woman, and I don’t ask much from you, but I’m your wife.  That’s all!”

She turned and called to Hester.  The little party rearranged itself.  Mannering found himself with Berenice.

“What was your wife saying to you?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“It was the beginning,” he remarked.

Berenice sighed.

“It is a strange thing,” she said, “but in this world no one can ever be happy except at some one else’s expense.  It is a most unnatural law of compensation.  Shall we move on to-morrow?”

“The day after,” he pleaded.  “To-morrow we are going to Berneval.”

She nodded.

“We are queer people, I think,” she said.  “I have been perfectly satisfied this week simply to be with you.  When it comes to an end I should like it to come suddenly.”

He thought of her words an hour later, when on his return to the hotel they handed him a telegram.  He passed it on at once to Lord Redford, and glanced at his watch.

“Poor Cunningham,” he said, “it was a short triumph for him.  I must go back to-night, or the first train to-morrow morning.  The sitting member for my division of Leeds died suddenly last night, Blanche,” he said to his wife.  “I must be on the spot at once.”

She rose to her feet.

“I will go and pack,” she said.

Lady Redford followed her very soon.  Clara and Sir Leslie had not yet returned from their stroll.  Lord Redford remained alone with them.

“I scarcely know what sort of fortune to wish you, Mannering,” he said.  “Perhaps your first speech will tell us.”

Berenice leaned back in her chair.

“I can’t imagine you as a labour member in the least,” she remarked.

“Doesn’t this force your hand a little, Mannering?” Lord Redford said.  “I understand that you were anxious to avoid a direct pronouncement upon the fiscal policy for the present.”

Mannering nodded gravely.

“It is quite time I made up my mind,” he said.  “I shall do so now.”

“May we find ourselves in the same lobby!” Lord Redford said.  “I will go and find my man.  He may as well take you to the station in the car.”

Berenice smiled at Mannering luminously through the shadowy lights.

“Dear friend,” she said, “I am delighted that you are going.  Our little time here has been delightful, but we had reached its limit.  I like to think that you are going back into the thick of it.  Don’t be faint-hearted, Lawrence.  Don’t lose faith in yourself.  You have chosen a terribly lonely path; if any man can find his way to the top, you can.  And don’t dare to forget me, sir!”