Meanwhile, Adrien's skiff was moored at the landing-place of an old inn,
some distance further up the river. Under a rustic porch Lady Merivale
was finishing her tea, while her companion enjoyed a cigarette.

Alas! for the irony of fate! This day, during which he had strenuously
endeavoured to forget Constance, had only shown him more plainly the
utter impossibility of doing so. If he had but known the opportunity he
had missed with that letter, his mortification and despair would have
been even greater.

Constance had regretted her policy in sending Adrien from her almost
before the day was over, and had purposely planned this way of seeing
him. Deeming his outing--thanks to Jasper's clever insinuations--to have
been undertaken on purpose to avoid her, the girl's heart was heavy
within her, and filled with something very like resentment too.

Adrien, on the other hand, all unwitting of the harm this excursion had
done his cause, had talked long and quietly with Lady Merivale. He had
made up his mind to break away even from these silken strings.

"So you have determined to leave me?" she said sadly.

He nodded.

"You know I must," he replied. "For your sake, as well as mine, it is
best."

"Perhaps you are right," she said in a low voice. "So this is the last
happy day we shall spend together?"

"Yes," he answered with a sigh. "Now, standing here, I see only too well
that we ought never to have spent any at all. I dread lest I have spoilt
your happiness, Eveline, lest a breath of slander should touch your
name. I will not deny that I had of late hoped to marry and settle down
as my father wishes, but it is not to be. Don't laugh at me when I tell
you I am going to turn over a new leaf. After this ball at Barminster, I
shall go abroad for awhile. That will give the world time to forget we
have ever had more than a passing acquaintance."