Mrs. Lavender as a couple! When he regretted that Mrs. Lavender could
not come, she said quietly, "Oh, I am so sorry! You would have met an
old friend of yours here, as well as the judge--Mr. Ingram."

Lavender made no further sign of surprise or curiosity than to lift
his eyebrows and say, "Indeed!"

But when he left the house certain dark suspicions were troubling his
mind. Nothing had been said as to the manner in which Ingram had made
the acquaintance of Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter, but there was that
in Mrs. Lorraine's manner which convinced Lavender that something
had happened. Had Ingram carried his interference to the extent
of complaining to them? Had he overcome a repugnance which he had
repeatedly admitted, and thrust himself upon these two people for
this very purpose of making him, Lavender, odious and contemptible?
Lavender's cheeks burned as he thought of this possibility. Mrs.
Lorraine had been most courteous to him, but the longer he dwelt on
these vague surmises the deeper grew his consciousness that he had
been turned out of the place, morally if not physically. What was that
excess of courtesy but a cloak? If she had meant less, she would have
been more careless; and all through the interview he had remarked
that, instead of the free warfare of talk that generally went on
between them, Mrs. Lorraine was most formally polite and apparently
watchful of her words.

He went home in a passion, which was all the more consuming that it
could not be vented on any one. As Sheila had not spoken to Ingram--as
she had even nerved herself to wound him by passing him without notice
in the street--she could not be held responsible; and yet he wished
that he could have upbraided some one for this mischief that had been