Coward! Go! Leave the house at once, before I call in the stable-boys to turn you out, and never dare to speak to me again!" Victor Durnovo recoiled before her, conscious all the while that she had never been so beautiful as at that moment.

But she was something far above him--a different creation altogether.

He never knew what drove him from that room.

It was the fear of something that he did not understand.
He heard her close the window after him as he walked away beneath the trees.
She stood watching him--proud, cold, terrible in her womanly anger.

Then she turned, and suddenly sank down upon the sofa, sobbing.
But fortune decreed that she should have neither time to weep nor think.
She heard the approaching footsteps of her old servant, and when the door was opened Jocelyn Gordon was reading a book, with her back turned towards the window.
"That man Nala, miss, the paddle-maker, wants to see you." "Tell him to go round to the verandah." Jocelyn went out by the open window, and presently Nala came grinning towards her.