Mildred's programme to make Mrs. Brown suffer was not having the success
her zeal in promoting it deserved.

The weather was still glorious, and after lunch the whole party flocked
out on the terrace.

A terrible nervous fear was dominating Theodora. She could not be alone
with Hector, she did not dare to trust herself. And there would be the
to-morrow and the Wednesday--without Josiah--and the soft warmth of the
evenings and the glamour of the nights.

Oh, everything was too cruel and impossible! And wherever she turned she
seemed to see in blazing letters, "A second honeymoon!"

The first was a horrible, fearsome memory which was over long ago, but
the thought of a second--now that she knew what love meant, and what
life with the loved one might mean--Oh, it was
unbearable--terrible--impossible! better, much better, to die and have
done with it all.

She kept close to Barbara, and when Barbara moved she feverishly engaged
the Crow in conversation--any one--something to save her from any chance
of listening to Hector's persuasive words. And the Crow's kind heart was
pained by the hunted expression in her eyes. They seemed to ask for help
and sanctuary.

"Shall we walk down to the polo-field, Mrs. Brown?" he said, and she
gladly acquiesced and started with him.

If she had been a practised coquette she could not have done anything
more to fan the flame of Hector's passion.