in real danger. You can save him, you must save him? What shall we do?"
He had withdrawn his arm from her waist. He looked her scrutinisingly in the face, and then turned away to the window.
"Make yourself easy, Cerise," he answered, coldly. "I see him riding up the avenue. Your suspense will be over in less than five minutes now."
Then he began to play with the hawk on its perch, teasing the bird, and laughing rather boisterously at its ruffled plumage and impotent anger.
She felt she had offended, though she scarcely knew how, and after a moment's consideration determined to steal behind him, put her arms round his neck and tell him so. The very conflict showed she loved him, the victory over her own heart's pride proved how dearly, but unfortunately at this moment Florian entered full of apologies for being late, followed by Slap-Jack and a line of servants bringing dinner.
Unfortunately, also, and according to the usual fatality in such cases, Monsieur de St. Croix addressed most of his conversation to Lady Hamilton during the meal, and she could not but betray by her manner an embarrassment she had no cause to feel. Sir George may possibly have observed this, some womanly intuition told Cerise that he did, but his bearing was frank and good-humoured to both, though he filled his glass perhaps oftener than usual, and laughed a little louder than people do who are quite at ease. The wife's quick ear, no doubt, detected so much, and it made her wretched. She loved him very dearly, and it seemed so hard that without any fault of her own she should thus mark "the little rift within the lute," threatening her with undeserved discord; "the little pitted speck in the garnered fruit," eating into all the bloom and promise of her life.
