"So I am to be Cassandra," thought Gertrude, a little wistfully. She was always having some hideous rôle or other thrust upon her.
Lord Watergate moved towards the door.
A sudden revulsion of feeling came over her.
"Perhaps," she said, "it is true."
He caught her mood. "Perhaps it is."
They stood smiling at one another like two children.
Constance Devonshire coming upstairs a few minutes later found Gertrude standing alone in the middle of the room, a vague smile playing about her face. A suspicion that was not new gathered force in Conny's mind. Going up to her friend she said, with meaning—
"Gerty, what has Lord Watergate been saying to you?"
"Conny, Conny, can you keep a secret?"
And then Gertrude told her of the new hope, vague and sweet and perilous, which Lord Watergate had brought with him.