This evening there was a great dinner-party at Colonel Catesby's; a political dinner.

Lilian had carefully prepared for the occasion.

In Quarrier's opinion, she would far outshine her previous appearances; she was to wear certain jewels which he had purchased on a recent visit to town--at an outlay of which he preferred to say nothing definite.
"They are the kind of thing," he remarked, with a significant smile, "that can be passed on to one's children." But would it be possible for her to keep the engagement?
Through the afternoon she lay in her bedroom with drawn blinds, endeavouring to sleep.

Once or twice Denzil entered, very softly, and stood by her for a moment; she looked at him and smiled, but did not speak.

At half-past six he brought her tea with his own hand.