Without a word mademoiselle quitted the room.  The beauty of her face was not pleasant in that moment; there was a glitter in her eye, a compression of her lips that might have told any one to beware.  Lady Thesiger became her own natural self after Coralie’s departure; she talked so kindly to Clare that I could have kissed her hand in gratitude.

I took Miss Thesiger to show her my sister’s flowers; for no word of mine would those lovely eyes look up.  She was not shy; her grace of manner was too perfect for that, but she was evidently afraid to look at me, and I reproached myself that I had perhaps frightened her at first.

Patiently I showed her flower after flower, perfect bud and perfect blossom, the little white doves I had tamed, the birds of bright plumage I had bought to amuse my sister.  I showed her the little fountains that rippled all day, the rocks and ferns.  She admired everything.

“Your sister must be happy in spite of her illness,” she said to me.

But I could bear those drooping eyes no longer.

“Miss Thesiger,” I said, hurriedly, “do not be unkind to me.  I know I am very presumptuous, but do, pray do, give me one kind look before you go.”

Then she raised her eyes and looked at me.  Alas! my tell-tale face.  They fell again, and the crimson flush mounted to her white brow.  I could say no more to her after that.  She went to her mother’s side, and they talked to Clare until it was time for lunch.

I asked if they would remain and take lunch with my sister.  They consented, and when it was arranged I sent to ask Coralie if she would join us.  Her answer was that she was busily engaged and begged we would excuse her.  Again I felt sure that Lady Thesiger looked considerably relieved.

Every moment I was falling more deeply and more helplessly in love, and yet across all my rapturous thoughts of Agatha came doubt and wonder as to why they did not like Coralie.

Strange; she had the beauty of a siren, the grace and wit of a queen of society, the talents and accomplishments of a complete woman of the world, yet no one seemed to like her.  How could it be?

Lady Thesiger rose at last, declaring that she was ashamed at the length of her visit.  When they were gone I went back to Clare.  She looked up at me with a smile; there was a bright flush of animation on her face.

“How much I like them, Edgar!  How kind Lady Thesiger is, and Agatha!  Oh, brother, how I wish I had a sister like her!”

I thought I would ask her to solve my doubt.

“Clare,” I said, gravely, “I want you to explain something to me.  You, being a woman, can understand women.  Tell me how it is no one likes Coralie.  She is beautiful and clever; why is it no one cares for her?”

My sister looked at me uneasily.

“I cannot tell.  I wish you would not ask me, Edgar.”

“Nay; tell me what you think?”