was rather gay, you know—and she?" Her pride flamed up, and anger against herself, for that betrayal to Fairfax.
In the drawing-room Alice Blackley began to talk to her in a high key of frivolity, but to Teresa's relief a message was brought in by a servant: Would Mrs. Blackley go to the library for a few moments and see Mr. Perry? Alice swept out with a conscious smile. Teresa knew this little custom of the dyspeptic and semi-invisible host; he liked to chat occasionally with someone who amused him.
When the men came in, bridge began. Teresa's partner was the blonde youth, who played extremely well, and she won nearly forty dollars. She was watchful of herself now, self-possessed and coolly gay.
••••••
Her high spirits left her suddenly when she and Basil got into the motor for their homeward ride. She was silent, muffled in her furs. Something of her old feeling about Isabel had come up again, and the fact that she was riding in Isabel's motor irritated her. A mere nothing had reillumined that feeling—she had seen Basil and Isabel look at one another, and in that look she seemed to see their past intimacy. It was nothing, for Basil could not very well altogether avoid looking at Isabel. There had been no ardour in that glance, certainly, but there had
