At last the fiery hues faded away, the giant holocaust of the skies drew to an end, and the soft afterglow spread across the dome, covering it with a tranquil beauty more sublime than words can paint.
Grace looked eagerly among the impressed spectators for Henry Veath.
Somehow she longed for him to see all this beauty that had given her so much pleasure.

He was not there and she was conscious of a guilty depression.

She was sitting with Hugh and Lady Huntingford when, long afterward, Veath approached.
"I'd like a word with you, Hugh," he said after the greetings, "when the ladies have gone below." "It is getting late and I am really very tired," said Grace.

It was quite dark, or they could have seen that her face was pale and full of concern.

She knew instinctively what it was that Veath wanted to say to Hugh.