"Mrs. Milbanke----"

But even as his thin voice articulated her name, a shadow fell across the lighted window behind them; and Serracauld, characteristically easy and nonchalant in his movements, stepped on to the balcony.

Clodagh turned with a short, faint laugh. The beating of her heart was uneven, and her face felt hot.

"Mr. Serracauld," she said impulsively, "when is Sir Walter Gore coming to Venice? I have been asking Lord Deerehurst, but he cannot--or will not tell me."

Deerehurst, who at his nephew's approach had drawn quietly back into his seat, looked up with perfect composure.

"Yes, Valentine," he said smoothly, "I believe Gore has been making an impression by proxy."

Serracauld laughed.

"Really!" he said. "How interesting! I shall look forward to the meeting in the flesh."

Again he laughed, as at something intensely amusing. And as Clodagh turned towards him doubtfully, she saw him shoot a swift, satirical glance at his uncle.

"Why?" she asked quickly--"why should our meeting be interesting?"

Once more a vague sense of antagonism a.s.sailed her--a vague distrust of this new atmosphere.

Serracauld answered at once in his light, ingratiating tone.

"For no reason, Mrs. Milbanke, that you can possibly cavil at!"

"But for what reason?" Her glance rested inquiringly on his face. "Do tell me. I hate things that I cannot understand."

Deerehurst smiled a little cynically.

"A very youthful sentiment!" he murmured. "The older one grows, the more one seeks the incomprehensible."

His eyes rested upon her with a fixed regard.

For a s.p.a.ce she sat very still, attempting no rejoinder. Then, as if suddenly moved to decisive action, she rose and turned towards the lighted salon.

"It's very late," she said quickly. "I must think about getting home."

Serracauld stepped aside, and Deerehurst, who had risen with her, moved forward.

But with a swift gesture that ignored them both, she crossed the balcony and stepped through the open window.

After she had left them, the two men stood for a moment looking at each other; then, with an elaborately careless gesture, Lord Deerehurst raised his eyegla.s.s and peered out across the dark ca.n.a.l.

"Rather a pleasant little gathering to-night!" he said casually. "Rose Bathurst looks particularly well."

Serracauld's lips parted; then pursed themselves together, while he cast one comprehensive glance at his uncle's stiff back.

"Oh yes!--yes! Quite!" he rejoined vaguely; then, very swiftly, he turned and hurried across the salon after Clodagh.

She was bidding her hostess good-night as he reached her side; and his attentive glance noted her heightened colour and her nervously alert manner.

"To-morrow night, then!" Lady Frances was saying; and he saw Clodagh nod and smile.

"To-morrow night!" she repeated. "Mr. Barnard, are you ready?"

As she looked round for her cavalier, Serracauld stepped softly to her side.

"Mrs. Milbanke," he said, "you will not discard my uncle's gondola? He is waiting to know if we may convey you home."

She looked up at him with a faint suggestion of coldness and distrust.

Then, across the silence of her indecision, the low notes of the Venetian night music broke forth again, as the musicians' gondola pa.s.sed the Palazzo Ugochini on its way homeward. For one moment it seemed to sweep across the salon through the open windows; then it faded into the distance, as the boat pa.s.sed on up the ca.n.a.l. At the sound, Clodagh's face involuntarily softened, her lips parted, and she smiled.

"Very well!" she acquiesced below her breath. "Tell Lord Deerehurst that he may take me home."

CHAPTER VII

During the night that followed, Clodagh's excited thoughts scarcely permitted her to sleep; but with that extraordinary reserve of strength that springs from the combination of youth and health, she rose next morning as fresh and untired as though she had enjoyed unbroken rest.

Coming downstairs at half-past eight, the first person she encountered was Milbanke, entering the hotel from the terrace. And spurred by her own exuberant spirits, roused to a sense of general good-will by her own rosy outlook upon life, she went quickly forward to greet him.

"Good-morning, James!" she said. "I hope you haven't been tiring yourself."

It struck her as an after impression that he looked slightly worn and fatigued.

As he took her hand, he smiled, gratified by her concern.

"Not at all, my dear!" he responded--"not at all! I have had an hour's excursion with Mr. Tomes. I a.s.sure you I had no idea that the bye-ways of Venice were so interesting."

"All Venice is heavenly."

Clodagh's glance wandered across the terrace to the ca.n.a.l, radiant in the early light.

Milbanke raised his head, arrested by the fervour of her tone.

"Then you--you enjoyed yourself last night?" he ventured with unusual penetration.

"Oh, so much!" She turned to him with a glowing smile that betrayed a warm desire for universal confidence and sympathy. "So much! Mr.

Barnard and the tall, dark-haired boy that you met last evening took me round the ca.n.a.ls in the most beautiful gondola belonging to Lord Deerehurst. We saw all the interesting people from the hotels, and heard the music; and afterwards Mr. Barnard brought me to the Palazzo Ugochini and introduced me to Lady Frances Hope. She was charmingly kind and hospitable; and made me promise to go again to-night--and to bring you."

Milbanke's face fell.

"But, my dear----" he began deprecatingly.

"Oh, you must come!--you must! Lady Frances Hope feels sure she has met you before. You must come!"