A little desultory breeze hovered near, and just roused the sleepy trees to whisper a good-night.

And Charles paced and paced, and thought of many things.
Only last night! His mind went back to the picture-gallery where he and Lady Grace had sat, amid a grove of palms and flowers.

Through the open archway at a little distance came a flood of light, and a surging echo of plaintive, appealing music.

It was late, or rather early, for morning was looking in with cold, dispassionate eyes through the long windows.
The gallery was comparatively empty for a London gathering, for the balconies and hall were crowded, and the rooms were thinning.

To all intents and purposes they were alone.