"That is impossible," she said coldly.
"And why?"
"If for no other reason, surely the Countess of St. Maurice's governess is no suitable friend for Lord Lumley."
He colored under the intense hauteur of her words.
"You will forgive my saying that that is the first remark which I have heard from you, Miss Briscoe, which has not been in good taste. Good-morning. Good-bye, Gracie."
He turned abruptly along a private path through the pine wood. Margharita and her charge went on up to the house alone.
CHAPTER XXI
A LAND THAT IS LONELIER THAN RUIN
Late in the afternoon of the same day they met again, and this time really by accident. Since morning a storm had been blowing, but just before sunset the wind and rain had dropped, and an angry sun glared out in its last moments upon the troubled sea. Lord Lumley, tired of struggling with a pile of books and smoking cigarettes, had seen the change from his study window, and seizing his cap and a stick had hurried out to taste the strong salt wind and to watch the cloud effects from the cliffs; and, as he had rounded the corner, he had come face to face with Margharita.