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Trevose reproved him as Miss Prosser went off in a high state of giggles. “What will she think! ”
    “I don’t care what she thinks,” Anthony retorted, with more than a hint of the schoolboy in his voice. “Serve her right, the horrid old toad! And if you don’t know why she’s come early, I do. She means to find a vantage point from which she can quiz everybody else as they come. Yes, there you are! Up on the terrace, looking like the Longships lighthouse with those gimlet eyes of hers sweeping over everybody! ”
    Fortunately at that moment some more people arrived and there was no further time to discuss Miss Prosser, but to Fenella, who knew his every mood so well, it was clear that Anthony was under a considerable strain. It wasn’t to be wondered at really since, for the first time since their broken engagement, he was on the point of meeting Rosemary again.
    Fenella felt her own nerves tense. What would the outcome of Rosemary’s return be? When, as she had planned, she had first spoken of the Lancings’ return to Anthony, it had been impossible to decide whether it was new to him or not, so entirely indifferent did he seem. And even when she had said that, of course, they must be asked to the party, he had simply said : “Of course— if that’s what you’d like! ”
    So the invitation had been sent, and for a day or two Fenella kept her fingers crossed, hoping against hope that it would be refused. Of course it was out of the question that Anthony and Rosemary shouldn’t meet, but although she herself had realised that the Lancings must be asked, oh, how she wished it hadn’t had to be in this public way with everybody watching not only the two principal characters in the little drama, but herself as well!
    Still, there was no backing out now, and doing her best not to let her welcoming smile become too fixed, she shook hands or kissed their guests.
    The Rector and Mrs. Enderby. Captain Franks who, Fenella noticed sympathetically, held Aunt Gina’s hand just that little bit longer than was really necessary. Then the Venns followed by such a rush of people that Fenella lost count. Dr. and Mrs. Mallory. And then quite a long pause.
    Fenella felt her hands grow sticky. After all, weren’t the Lancings coming? Almost everyone else was here. Then suddenly she saw them arriving, not by the more formal entrance through the house, but along the garden path that led to Pay-off Cove and the village.
    Sir Geoffrey, tall, grey-haired and with a presence even in the comparatively informal garb permissible at a country garden-party. Lady Lancing, slim, elegant, and still looking incredibly young. Hugh and his wife, and finally—Rosemary.
    Unmistakably Rosemary. No one could possibly mistake that perfect oval face, the smooth, silvery fair hair and the deep blue eyes, any more than they could forget the elegance which she had inherited from her mother or the lovely, gliding walk which was all her own.
    And yet this wasn’t the Rosemary Fenella had known. She had been a joyous, fun-loving girl.
    The woman who had returned was no less beautiful— perhaps even more so—but it was a frozen, lifeless beauty, and with a little shiver Fenella. saw that the smile on the beautifully chiselled lips went no further. The blue eyes were completely lacking in expression of any sort.
    Then Fenella’s attention was diverted from Rosemary because she saw that just behind her, but still obviously one of the party, was—Martin Adair.
     

CHAPTER III
    IT was no exaggeration to say that Martin Adair’s presence was almost as disturbing to Fenella as Rosemary’s changed appearance.
    Since her encounter with him on the cliff path she hadn’t set eyes on him, and Anthony, who had, without seeking him out too obviously, none the less frequented places where he was likely to come across Martin, had met with no success. It seemed reasonably sure that Martin had left the district.
    “So that’s that,” Anthony remarked,