“You are putting me in the position of a supplicant!” she exclaimed.  “To-night we must have an understanding.”

The little party moved on all together to another cover.  Rosamund had joined them and hung on to Dominey’s arm with delight.  The brisk walk across the park had brought colour to her cheeks.  She walked with all the free and vigorous grace of a healthy woman.  Dominey found himself watching her, as she deserted him a little later on to stand by Terniloff’s side, with a little thrill of tangled emotions.  He felt a touch on his arm.  Stephanie, who was passing with another of the guns, paused to whisper in his ear: 

“There might be a greater danger—­one that has evaded even your cautious mind—­in overplaying your part!”

Dominey was taken possession of by Caroline on their walk to the next stand.  She planted herself on a shooting stick by his side and commenced to take him roundly to task.

“My dear Everard,” she said, “you are one of the most wonderful examples of the reformed rake I ever met!  You have even acquired respectability.  For heaven’s sake, don’t disappoint us all!”

“I seem to be rather good at that,” Dominey observed a little drearily.

“Well, you are the master of your own actions, are you not?” she asked.  “What I want to say in plain words is, don’t go and make a fool of yourself with Stephanie.”

“I have not the least intention of doing anything of the sort.”

“Well, she has!  Mark my words, Everard, I know that woman.  She is clever and brilliant and anything else you like, but for some reason or other she has set her mind upon you.  She looks at dear little Rosamund as though she hadn’t a right to exist.  Don’t look so sorry for yourself.  You must have encouraged her.”

Dominey was silent.  Fortunately, the exigencies of the next few minutes demanded it.  His cousin waited patiently until there came a pause in the shooting.

“Now let me hear what you have to say for yourself, sir?  So far as I can see, you’ve been quite sweet to your wife, and she adores you.  If you want to have an affair with the Princess, don’t begin it here.  You’ll have your wife ill again if you make her jealous.”

“My dear Caroline, there will be no affair between Stephanie and me.  Of that you may rest assured.”

“You mean to say that this is altogether on her side, then?” Caroline persisted.

“You exaggerate her demeanour,” he replied, “but even if what you suggest were true—­”

“Oh, I don’t want a lot of protestations!” she interrupted.  “I am not saying that you encourage her much, because I don’t believe you do.  All I want to point out is that, having really brought your wife back almost to health, you must be extraordinarily and wonderfully careful.  If you want to talk nonsense with Stephanie, do it in Belgrave Square.”

Dominey was watching the gyrations of a falling pheasant.  His left hand was stretched out towards the cartridge bag which Caroline was holding.  He clasped her fingers for a moment before he helped himself.