They dined at the Carnabys’, the first time for months that they had dined from home together.  Harvey would have shirked the occasion, had it been possible.  With great relief, he found that the guests were all absolute strangers to him, and that they represented society in its better sense, with no suggestion of the ‘half-world’ —­ no Mrs Strangeways or Mrs. Rayner Mann.  Alma, equally conscious of the fact, viewed it as a calculated insult.  Sibyl had brought her here to humiliate her.  She entered the doors with jealous hatred boiling in her heart, and fixed her eyes on Sibyl with such fire of malicious scrutiny that the answer was a gaze of marked astonishment.  But they had no opportunity for private talk.  Sibyl, as hostess, bore herself with that perfect manner which no effort and no favour of circumstance would ever enable Mrs. Rolfe to imitate.  Envying every speech and every movement, knowing that her own absent behaviour and forced talk must produce an unpleasant impression upon the well-bred strangers, she longed to expose the things unspeakable that lay beneath this surface of social brilliancy.  What was more, she would do it when time was ripe.  Only this consciousness of power to crush her enemy enabled her to bear up through the evening.

At the dinner-table she chanced to encounter Sibyl’s look.  She smiled.  There was disquiet in that glance —­ furtive inquiry and apprehension.

No music.  Alma would have doubted whether any of these people were aware of her claim to distinction, had not a lady who talked with her after dinner hinted, rather than announced, an intention of being present at Prince’s Hall next Tuesday.  None of the fuss and adulation to which she was grown accustomed; no underbred compliments; no ambiguous glances from men.  It angered her to observe that Harvey did not seem at all wearied; that he conversed more naturally than usual in a mixed company, especially with the hostess.  One whisper —­ and how would Harvey look upon his friend’s wife?  But the moment had not come.

She left as early as possible, parting from Sibyl as she had met her, with eyes that scarce dissembled their malignity.

When Hugh and his wife were left together, Sibyl abstained from remark on Alma; it was Carnaby who introduced the subject.  ’Don’t you think Mrs Rolfe looked seedy?’

‘Work and excitement,’ was the quiet answer.  ’I think it more than likely she will break down.’

’It’s a confounded pity.  Why, she has grown old all at once.  She’s losing her good looks.  Did you notice that her eyes were a little bloodshot?’

‘Yes, I noticed it.  I didn’t like her look at all.’

Hugh, as his custom was, paced the floor.  Nowadays he could not keep still, and he had contracted an odd habit of swinging his right arm, with fist clenched, as though relieving his muscles after some unusual constraint.

’By Jove, Sibyl, when I compare her with you! —­ I feel sorry for Rolfe; can’t help it.  Why didn’t you stop this silly business before it went so far?’