Ivar, who had refrained from speech both during Lorelie's story and at its close, now offered his arm to help her to the carriage. A shade of vexation passed over her face at the viscount's obvious indifference to Idris' services on her behalf.
"My ankle is still weak," she said, turning to Idris. "Mr. Breakspear, may I ask for your help, too?"
Idris responded with a cheerfulness that became the more cheerful as he noticed Ivar's scowl.
Thus escorted Lorelie passed into the moonlit air without, and reached the brougham. Idris held the door while she stepped in. The viscount followed, shutting the door with a loud slam, that said as plainly as words, "No more shall enter here."
Lorelie looked more vexed than ever at this discourtesy towards Godfrey and Idris: but as the carriage was not hers it was out of her power to offer them a seat.
However, as if desirous of sweetening the parting, she extended her little hand through the carriage-window, accompanying her action with a gracious smile.
"Good-night, Mr. Breakspear," she murmured, softly. "I shall never forget the debt I owe you."
"Drive on," cried Ivar, brusquely, to the coachman. "The Cedars, North Road."
The horses dashed off, and as the brougham turned the corner of the road, Idris caught a glimpse of Lorelie, bending forward at the carriage-window, with her face turned in his direction.
He lifted his hat, and the next moment she was lost to view.