Emma glanced at her, and saw a look which recalled to her something she had seen in those eyes before.

‘I will write and tell you if we do move,’ she said.

Adela went away with a heart not altogether sad; it was rather as though she had been hearing solemn music, which stirred her soul even while it touched upon the source of tears.

It was only on certain days that Stella sat to receive during visitors’ hours.  To-day was not one of them; consequently when Hubert Eldon called, about half-past four, the servant came up to the drawing-room to ask if Mrs. Westlake would be at home to him.  Adela was in the room; at the mention of the name she rose.

‘I must write a letter before dinner,’ she said.  ’I win go and get it done whilst you are engaged.’

‘Won’t you stay?  Do stay!’

’I had much rather not.  I don’t feel able to talk with anyone just now.’

She left the room without meeting Stella’s look.  The latter said she would receive Mr. Eldon.

Adela went to the exquisitely furnished little boudoir, which was now always called her room, and sat down with the resolve to write to her mother on the subjects she had in mind.  But her strength of will proved unequal to the task; after writing a word or two with shaking hand she laid down her pen and rested her face upon her hands.  A minute or two ago she had been untroubled by a thought which concerned herself; now her blood was hot, and all her being moved at the impulse of a passionate desire.  She had never known such a rebellion of her life.  In her ears there rang the word ’Free! free!’ She was free, and the man whom she loved with the love of years, with the first love of maidenhood and the confirmed love of maturity, was but a few yards from her—­it might be, had even come here on purpose to meet her.

Oh, why was he not poor!  Had he but been some struggling artist, scarce able to support the woman of his choice, how would she have stood before him and let him read the tenderness on her face!  Hubert’s wealth was doubly hateful.

She started from her chair, with difficulty suppressing a cry.  Someone had knocked at her door.  Perhaps he was already gone; she could not say how long she had sat here.  It was Stella.

‘Mr. Eldon wishes to speak to you, dear.’

She caught her friend’s hand and almost crushed it between her own.

‘I can’t see him!  Stella, I dare not see him!’

’But he says it is purely a matter of business he wishes to speak of,’ said Stella with a pained voice.

Adela sank her head in anguish of shame.  Stella put an arm about her, fearing she would fall.  But in an instant pride had sprung up; Adela freed herself, now deadly pale.

‘I will go.’

She moved mechanically, spoke mechanically the conventional words when she found that somehow she was in his presence.

‘I hope I do not disturb you,’ Hubert said with equal self-control.  ’I was about to address a letter to you before I left England.  I did not know that you were here.  It is better, perhaps, to do my business by word of mouth, if you will allow me.’