Almost incredible as it was, the belief that it was borne out by fact was forced upon her, and too dazed to reason clearly she shrank with an overwhelming sense of disgust.  She had, it seemed, wilfully deceived herself, and the man was, as she had fancied at the beginning, without sensibility or refinement, brutal in his forcefulness, and swayed by elementary passions.  Then she writhed under the memory of the occasions on which she had unbent somewhat far to him, and the recollection of two incidents in the sickroom stung her pride to the quick; while when the booming of a gong rolled through the house, she rose faint and cold with an intensity of anger that for the time being drove out any other feeling.  It would have gone very hardly with Alton had chance afforded her the means of punishing him just then.

As fate would have it the opportunity was also given her, for that evening Deringham, who had heard nothing of the story, was able to secure a few minutes alone with his daughter.  He was, she noticed, looking unusually pale and ill, and that reminded her that he owed all his anxieties to Alton.

“Our kinsman is going back to Somasco very shortly, and then on into the ranges.  I wish he could be prevented,” he said.

The girl laughed a little.  “I think it would be difficult to prevent Mr. Alton doing anything he had decided on.”

“Yes,” said Deringham.  “He can be exasperatingly obstinate, but—­and I put it frankly—­he might listen to you.  The journey he contemplates would be apt to prove perilous at this season.”

Alice Deringham looked at her father with a smile the meaning of which he could not fathom.  He did not know that she had of late been disturbed by unpleasant suspicions concerning his connection with Hallam.

“I fancy you are mistaken.  You are of course influenced by a desire for his safety?”

Deringham winced, for he recognized the tone of sardonic scepticism, but he was horribly afraid of Hallam, and could not afford to fail.

“Well,” he said, with a gesture of weariness, “I am afraid I must make an admission, I am hemmed in by almost overwhelming anxieties, and I have come to no understanding yet with Alton respecting Carnaby.  Now if disaster overtook him in the ranges it would entail an investigation of the Carnaby affairs, and the withdrawal of a good deal of money from my companies, which would seriously hamper me.  I have once or twice had to slightly exceed my duties as trustee, and Alton would approve of steps I have taken which a lawyer or accountant would consider irregular.  Of course, if you had any knowledge of business I could make it more clear to you, but I can only tell you that I am anxious about Alton’s safety for my own sake as well as his.”

Alice Deringham turned towards him with a trace of impatience.  “We may as well be honest, and I fancy Mr. Alton is used to risks,” she said quietly.  “Whether he encounters more than usual just now or otherwise is absolutely no concern of mine.”