"Pooh! You are making a mountain out of a molehill," said Zara contemptuously. "If Mr. Hench had proposed to me after he met you, then there might be some sense in your attitude. But I tell you he did not know the meaning of love when he proposed to me, and would have proposed to any other woman just as readily. His first acquaintance with love was when he saved your life. He is heart and soul devoted to you. My dear"--Zara rose, and bending over Gwen, took her hand--"don't be foolish and throw away a love which will make you the happiest woman in the world."
"Can you swear that Owain loves me?" asked Gwen, more and more impressed.
"Personally, I cannot. But from what Mr. Vane has told me I certainly can declare that Mr. Hench adores you."
"Yes." Miss Evans stared hard at nothing. "I believe he does."
"Then why are you making all this trouble?"
"You are a woman and ask me that?"
Zara laughed. "It is absurd, I know. But I am anxious to put things right. My mother made trouble and I came down to make peace. Don't send me away with my errand unaccomplished."
Gwen jumped up and kissed the dancer. "No, I won't. I am quite satisfied with your explanation. I have been very silly and have made myself quite ill in worrying over things. And if Owain comes----"
"Owain is coming," interrupted Zara quickly, as she glanced out of the open French window of the room. "Yonder he is with Mr. Vane, who was sent to bring him by Mrs. Perage. My dear"--she kissed Gwen's cheek--"I will slip out to join Mrs. Perage and Ned in the garden. You stay here and make it up with Mr. Hench. No half-measures, mind. Be generous and loyal." And with a smiling nod the dancer flitted through the window just as the footsteps of Owain were heard in the hall.
"Oh!" said Gwen, drawing a long breath, "how nearly I have lost him."