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"Well," he said, "I never saw an apology made with a
better grace nor received with a worse one."
Cecil made no reply. He stood for a minute looking at her with eyes
of wondering displeasure, then, with a little gesture of amazement,
left the room.
Cecil felt like the drowning woman when she gave the last scissor-
like gesture with her fingers. She was ready to fall into a chair
and cry. A sense of desolateness was very strong on her, and that
look in his dark eyes had seemed to blast her.
But pride came to her aid. Grindstone was moving about ready to
dress her for dinner. No one should see that she was wounded, or
that she took home displeasure which she did not merit. So she held
up her head, and was chilling and dignified all dinner-time; after
which she repaired to Lady Tyrrell's conversazione.


CHAPTER XIX
The Monstrous Regiment of Women

Descend, my muse!
Raymond had been invited by one of his fellow-guests to make a visit
at his house, and this was backed up on the morning after his return
by a letter containing a full invitation to both himself and his
wife.


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