"First Isabel, and now Tommie," thought her Ladyship.

"I am losing the only companions who made life tolerable to me." Returning from the garden gate, after taking leave of his visitor, Hardyman received from his servant a handful of letters which had just arrived for him.

Walking slowly over the lawn as he opened them, he found nothing but excuses for the absence of guests who had already accepted their invitations.

He had just thrust the letters into his pocket, when he heard footsteps behind him, and, looking round, found himself confronted by Moody.
"Hullo! have you come to lunch ?" Hardyman asked, roughly.
"I have come here, sir, with a little gift for Miss Isabel, in honor of her marriage," Moody answered quietly, "and I ask your permission to put it on the table, so that she may see it when your guests sit down to luncheon." He opened a jeweler's case as he spoke, containing a plain gold bracelet with an inscription engraved on the inner side: "To Miss Isabel Miller, with the sincere good wishes of Robert Moody." Plain as it was, the design of the bracelet was unusually beautiful.
Hardyman had noticed Moody's agitation on the day when he had met Isabel near her aunt's house, and had drawn his own conclusions from it.

His face darkened with a momentary jealousy as he looked at the bracelet.
"All right, old fellow!" he said, with contemptuous familiarity.