you it was sometimes a very unenviable position."
Worth said, with a note of amusement in his voice: "My position was certainly so, but that you experienced anything but the most profound enjoyment comes as news to me."
She was betrayed into a laugh, but said: "Well, perhaps I did enjoy teasing you at least, but recollect that I was never a shy creature like Lucy."
"I recollect that perfectly," said the Earl.
"Is Miss Devenish shy? I did not find her so," said the Colonel. "Shy girls are the devil, for they won't talk, and have such a habit of blushing that one is for ever thinking one has said something shocking. I found Miss Devenish perfectly conversable."
Judith was satisfied. The Colonel, though ready to discuss the fete, had apparently forgotten Barbara Childe's existence. Not one word of admiration for her crossed his lips; her name was not mentioned.
"Julian, what a mercy! I don't believe he can have liked her after all!" confided her ladyship later, in the privacy of her own bedroom. "Indeed, I might have trusted to his excellent good sense. Did you notice that he did not once speak of her?"
"I did," replied the Earl somewhat grimly. "Well?"
He looked at her, smiling, and took her chin in his hand. "You are an ever-constant source of delight to me, my love. Did you know?" he said, kissing her.
Judith returned this embrace with great readiness, but asked: "Why? Have I said something silly?"
"Very silly," Worth assured her tenderly.
"How horrid you are! Tell me at once!"
"My adorable simpleton, Charles induced no less a personage than the Prince of Orange to present him to she most striking woman in the room, seized not one but two waltzes which I have not the least doubt were bespoken days ago by less fortunate suitors, and comes away at the end of the evening with apparently not one word to say of a lady whom even you will admit to be of quite extraordinary beauty."
"Oh!" she said. "Is that a bad sign, do you think?"
"The worst!" he answered.
She was shaken, but said stoutly: "Well, I don't believe it. Charles has great good sense. I am perfectly at ease."
Had she been privileged to observe Colonel Audley's actions not very many hours later her faith in his good sense might have suffered a shock. The Colonel's staff training had made him expert in obtaining desired information, and he had not wasted his time at the fete. While his sister-in-law still lay sleeping, he was up, and in the Earl's stables. Seven o'clock saw him cantering gently down the Allee Verte, beyond the walls of the town, mounted on a blood mare reserved for his brother's exclusive use.
Nor was this energy wasted. The edge had scarcely gone from the mare's morning freshness before the Colonel was rewarded by the sight of a slim figure, in a habit of cerulean blue, cantering ahead of him, unattended by any groom, and mounted on a raking grey hunter.
The Colonel gave the mare her head, and in two minutes was abreast of the grey. Lady Barbara, hearing the flying hooves, had turned her head, and immediately urged the grey to a gallop. Down the deserted Allee raced the horses, between two rows of thick lime trees, and with the still waters of the canal shining on their left.
"To the bridge!" called Barbara.
The Colonel held the mare in a little. "Done! What will you wager?"
"Anything you please!" she said recklessly.
"Too rash! I might take an unfair advantage!"
"Pooh!" she returned.
They flew on, side by side, until in the distance the bridge leading over the canal to the Laekon road came into sight. Then the Colonel relaxed his grip and allowed the Doll to lengthen her stride. For a moment or two the grey kept abreast, but the pace was too swift for her to hold. The mare pulled ahead, flashed on up the avenue, was checked just short of the bridge, and reached it, dancing on her hooves and snatching a little at the bit.
Barbara came up like a thunderbolt, and reined in, panting. "Oh, by God! Three lengths!" she called out. "What