Tommy had closed the book and put it away. He now sat hunched in bed, his thin arms in their pale blue sleeves clasping his knees. "Brigit, do you think a peer could ever be a really great violinist?"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A sleepless night is always a bad thing, but it is full of horror when its victim is haunted by an ever-recurring thought.

Brigit Mead went to her room, dismissed what her brother called her half of Amélie, the French maid, put on a dressing-gown, and sat down by the fire to think.

Her room was very exposed, and the wind howled dismally round the corner of the house, while the rain fell in violent gusts against the ancient panes. It was a comfort to hear the storm, for it made the fire welcome, and a fire is comforting.

The girl huddled close to it, and according to her wont began uttering her thoughts in a whisper.

"It is that. There's no doubt. And that is why I was so happy. He doesn't know, that's one comfort. Only—what on earth am I to do? I wonder if it will get worse or better, the more I see him? If only he would make some more horrible blunders, or—or what? It isn't what he does, it's what he is. It isn't even the playing. I barely heard him to-night. And Théo—poor Théo! He must never suspect. But then, he never would, unless I shouted it in his ear!"

She paused and put another log on the fire.

"He will, though, unless I am very careful. He isn't old at all, forty-two is young nowadays, and I'm sure he likes women. I daresay, if I hadn't been engaged to Théo, he would have liked me. Most of 'em do. And I never looked better in my life than I looked to-night. Vain beast!"

Presently she got up, and roamed aimlessly about the room. The door leading into her little sitting-room was open, and she went in and switched on the light. "He wants to come in here to-morrow, and see where I live. Live! He wants to see my books. I'll hide those French ones; they'd shock Beau-papa, I suppose, though they aren't very bad. But what am I to do? Can I go on being engaged—can I marry Théo while I—love his father? Would marrying Théo cure me, or make it worse? And suppose he fell in love with me after we were married! And she—Gerald's 'clean old peasant,' wouldn't she be horrified? Poor old thing, she is very nice, but—and Tommy wanting to be a violinist! A nice family party, upon my word!"

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