When Nina spoke to Eileen, the girl answered briefly but with perfect composure.  Selwyn, too, added a quiet word at intervals, speaking in a voice that sounded a little tired and strained.

It was that note of fatigue in his voice which aroused Eileen to effort—­the instinctive move to protect—­to sustain him.  Conscious of Austin’s suppressed but increasing anger at her brother, amazed and distressed at what Gerald had done—­for the boy’s very presence there was an affront to them all—­she was still more sensitive to Selwyn’s voice; and in her heart she responded passionately.

Nina looked up, surprised at the sudden transformation in the girl, who had turned on Boots with a sudden flow of spirits and the gayest of challenges; and their laughter and badinage became so genuine and so persistent that, combining with Nina, they fairly swept Austin from his surly abstraction into their toils; and Selwyn’s subdued laugh, if forced, sounded pleasantly, now, and his drawn face seemed to relax a little for the time being.

Once she turned, under cover of the general conversation which she had set going, and looked straight into Selwyn’s eyes, flashing to him a message of purest loyalty; and his silent gaze in response sent the colour flying to her cheeks.

It was all very well for a while—­a brave, sweet effort; but ears could not remain deaf to the increasing noise and laughter—­to familiar voices, half-caught phrases, indiscreet even in the fragments understood.  Besides, Gerald had seen them, and the boy’s face had become almost ghastly.

Alixe, unusually flushed, was conducting herself without restraint; Neergard’s snickering laugh grew more significant and persistent; even Rosamund spoke too loudly at moments; and once she looked around at Nina and Selwyn while her pretty, accentless laughter, rippling with its undertone of malice, became more frequent in the increasing tumult.

There was no use in making a pretence of further gaiety.  Austin had begun to scowl again; Nina, with one shocked glance at Alixe, leaned over toward her brother: 

“It is incredible!” she murmured; “she must be perfectly mad to make such an exhibition of herself.  Can’t anybody stop her?  Can’t anybody send her home?”

Austin said sullenly but distinctly:  “The thing for us to do is to get out. . . .  Nina—­if you are ready—­”

“But—­but what about Gerald?” faltered Eileen, turning piteously to Selwyn.  “We can’t leave him—­there!”

The man straightened up and turned his drawn face toward her: 

“Do you wish me to get him?”

“Y-you can’t do that—­can you?”

“Yes, I can; if you wish it.  Do you think there is anything in the world I can’t do, if you wish it?”

As he rose she laid her hand on his arm: 

“I—­I don’t ask it—­” she began.

“You do not have to ask it,” he said with a smile almost genuine.  “Austin, I’m going to get Gerald—­and Nina will explain to you that he’s to be left to me if any sermon is required.  I’ll go back with him in the motor-boat.  Boots, you’ll drive home in my place.”