A MODERN CHRONICLE

By Winston Churchill

Volume 4. 

CHAPTER VII

OF CERTAIN DELICATE MATTERS

In the religious cult of Gad and Meni, practised with such enthusiasm atQuicksands, the Saints' days were polo days, and the chief of allfestivals the occasion of the match with the Banbury Hunt Club--Quicksands's greatest rival. Rival for more reasons than one, reasonstoo delicate to tell. Long, long ago there appeared in Punch a cartoon ofLord Beaconsfield executing that most difficult of performances, an eggdance. We shall be fortunate indeed if we get to the end of this chapterwithout breaking an egg!

Our pen fails us in a description of that festival of festivals, theBanbury one, which took place early in September. We should have to goback to Babylon and the days of King Nebuchadnezzar. (Who turns out tohave been only a regent, by the way, and his name is now said to bespelled rezzar). How give an idea of the libations poured out to Gad andthe shekels laid aside for Meni in the Quicksands Temple?

Honora privately thought that building ugly, and it reminded her of acollection of huge yellow fungi sprawling over the ground. A few of theinevitable tortured cedars were around it. Between two of the largerbuildings was wedged a room dedicated to the worship of Bacchus, to-daylike a narrow river-gorge at flood time jammed with tree-trunks--some ofthem, let us say, water-logged--and all grinding together with anintolerable noise like a battle. If you happened to be passing thewindows, certain more or less intelligible sounds might separatethemselves from the bedlam. 

"Four to five on Quicksands!"

"That stock isn't worth a d--n!"

"She's gone to South Dakota. "

Honora, however, is an heretic, as we know. Without going definitely intoher reasons, these festivals had gradually become distasteful to her. Perhaps it would be fairer to look at them through the eyes of LilyDallam, who was in her element on such days, and regarded them as themost innocent and enjoyable of occasions, and perhaps they were. 

The view from the veranda, at least, appealed to our heroine's artisticsense. The marshes in the middle distance, the shimmering sea beyond, andthe polo field laid down like a vast green carpet in the foreground;while the players, in white breeches and bright shirts, on the agilelittle horses that darted hither and thither across the turf lent anadded touch of colour and movement to the scene. Amongst them, TrixtonBrent most frequently caught the eye and held it. Once Honora perceivedhim flying the length of the field, madly pursued, his mallet poisedlightly, his shirt bulging in the wind, his close-cropped head bereft ofa cap, regardless of the havoc and confusion behind him. He played, indeed, with the cocksureness and individuality one might have expected;and Honora, forgetting at moments the disturbing elements by which shewas surrounded, followed him with fascination. Occasionally his namerippled from one end of the crowded veranda to the other, and sheexperienced a curious and uncomfortable sensation when she heard it inthe mouths of these strangers. 

From time to time she found herself watching them furtively, comparingthem unconsciously with her Quicksands friends. Some of them she hadremarked before, at contests of a minor importance, and they seemed toher to possess a certain distinction that was indefinable. They had cometo-day from many mysterious (and therefore delightful) places whichHonora knew only by name, and some had driven the twenty-five odd milesfrom the bunting community of Banbury in coaches and even those new andmarvellous importations--French automobiles. When the game had ended, andLily Dallam was cajoling the club steward to set her tea-table at once, agroup of these visitors halted on the lawn, talking and laughing gayly. Two of the younger men Honora recognized with a start, but for a momentshe could not place them--until suddenly she remembered that she had seenthem on her wedding trip at Hot Springs. The one who lisped was Mr. Cuthbert, familiarly known as "Toots": the other, taller and slimmer andpaler, was Jimmy Wing. A third, the regularity of whose features made onewonder at the perfection which nature could attain when she chose, whohad a certain Gallic appearance (and who, if the truth be told, mighthave reminded an impartial eye of a slightly animated wax clothingmodel), turned, stared, hesitated, and bowed to Lily Dallam. 

"That's Reggie Farwel, who did my house in town, " she whispered toHonora. "He's never been near me since it was finished. He's utterlyruined. "

Honora was silent. She tried not to look at the group, in which therewere two women of very attractive appearance, and another man. 

"Those people are so superior, " Mrs. Dallam continued. 

"I'm not surprised at Elsie Shorter. Ever since she married Jerry she'sstuck to the Graingers closer than a sister. That's Cecil Grainger, mydear, the man who looks as though he were going to fall asleep anymoment. But to think of Abby Kame acting that way! Isn't it ridiculous, Clara?" she cried, appealing to Mrs. Trowbridge. "They say that CecilGrainger never leaves her side. I knew her when she first married JohnKame, the dearest, simplest man that ever was. He was twenty years olderthan Abby, and made his money in leather. She took the first steamerafter his funeral and an apartment in a Roman palace for the winter. Assoon as she decently could she made for England. The English will put upwith anybody who has a few million dollars, and I don't deny that Abby'sgood-looking, and clever in her way. But it's absurd for her to come overhere and act as though we didn't exist. She needn't be afraid that I'llspeak to her. They say she became intimate with Bessie Grainger throughcharities. One of your friend Mrs. Holt's charities, by the way, Honora. Where are you going?"

For Honora had risen. 

"I think I'll go home, Lily, " she said; "I'm rather tired. "

"Home!" exclaimed Mrs. Dallam. "What can you be thinking of, my dear?Nobody ever goes home after the Banbury match. The fun has just begun, and we're all to stay here for dinner and dance afterwards. And TrixyBrent promised me faithfully he'd' come here for tea, as soon as hedressed. "

"I really can't stay, Lily. I--I don't feel up to it, " said Honora, desperately. 

"And you can't know how I counted on you! You look perfectly fresh, mydear. "

Honora felt an overwhelming desire to hide herself, to be alone. In spiteof the cries of protest that followed her and drew--she thought--anunnecessary and disagreeable attention to her departure, she threaded herway among groups of people who stared after her. Her colour was high, herheart beating painfully; a vague sense of rebellion and shame within herfor which she did not try to account. Rather than run the gantlet of thecrowded veranda she stepped out on the lawn, and there encounteredTrixton Brent. He had, in an incredibly brief time, changed from his poloclothes to flannels and a straw hat. He looked at her and whistled, andbarred her passage. 

"Hello!" he cried. "Hoity-toity! Where are we going in such a hurry?"

"Home, " answered Honora, a little breathlessly, and added for hisdeception, "the game's over, isn't it? I'm glad you won. "

Mr. Brent, however, continued to gaze at her penetratingly, and sheavoided his eyes. 

"But why are you rushing off like a flushed partridge?--no reference toyour complexion. Has there been a row?"

"Oh, no--I was just--tired. Please let me go. "

"Being your good angel--or physician, as you choose--I have aprescription for that kind of weariness, " he said smilingly. "I--anticipated such an attack. That's why I got into my clothes in suchrecord time. "

"I don't know what you mean, " faltered Honora. "You are always imaginingall sorts of things about me that aren't true. "

"As a matter of fact, " said Brent, "I have promised faithfully to do afavor for certain friends of mine who have been clamouring to bepresented to you. "

"I can't--to-day--Mr. Brent, " she cried. "I really don't feellike-meeting people. I told Lily Dallam I was going home. "

The group, however, which had been the object of that lady's remarks wasalready moving towards them--with the exception of Mrs. Shorter and Mr. Farwell, who had left it. They greeted Mr. Brent with great cordiality. 

"Mrs. Kame, " he said, "let me introduce Mrs. Spence. And Mrs. Spence, Mr. Grainger, Mr. Wing, and Mr. Cuthbert. Mrs. Spence was just going home. "

"Home!" echoed Mrs. Kame, "I thought Quicksands people never went homeafter a victory. "

"I've scarcely been here long enough, " replied Honora, "to have acquiredall of the Quicksands habits. "

"Oh, " said Mrs. Kame, and looked at Honora again. "Wasn't that Mrs. Dallam you were with? I used to know her, years ago, but she doesn'tspeak to me any more. "

"Perhaps she thinks you've forgotten her, " said Honora. 

"It would be impossible to forget Mrs. Dallam, " declared Mrs. Kame. 

"So I should have thought, " said Honora. 

Trixton Brent laughed, and Mrs. Kame, too, after a moment's hesitation. She laid her hand familiarly on Mr. Brent's arm. 

"I haven't seen you all summer, Trixy, " she said. "I hear you've beenhere at Quicksands, stewing in that little packing-case of yours. Aren'tyou coming into our steeplechase at Banbury. 

"I believe you went to school with my sister, " said young Mr. Wing. 

"Oh, yes, " answered Honora, somewhat surprised. "I caught a glimpse ofher once, in New York. I hope you will remember me to her. "

"And I've seen you before, " proclaimed Mr. Cuthbert, "but I can't for thelife of me think where. "

Honora did not enlighten him. 

"I shan't forget, at any rate, Mrs. Spence, " said Cecil Grainger, who hadnot taken his eyes from her, except to blink. 

Mrs. Kame saved her the embarrassment of replying. 

"Can't we go somewhere and play bridge, " Trixy demanded. 

"I'd be delighted to offer you the hospitality of my packing-case, as youcall it, " said Brent, "but the dining-room ceiling fell down Wednesday, and I'm having the others bolstered up as a mere matter of precaution. "

"I suppose we couldn't get a fourth, anyway. Neither Jimmy nor Tootsplays. It's so stupid of them not to learn. "

"Mrs. Spence might, help us out, " suggested Brent. 

"Do you play?" exclaimed Mrs. Kame, in a voice of mixed incredulity andhope. 

"Play!" cried Mr. Brent, "she can teach Jerry Shorter or the Duchess ofTaunton. "

"The Duchess cheats, " announced Cecil Grainger. "I caught her at it atCannes--"

"Indeed, I don't play very well, " Honora interrupted him, "and besides--"

"Suppose we go over to Mrs. Spence's house, " Trixton Brent suggested. "I'm sure she'd like to have us wouldn't you, Mrs. Spence?"

"What a brilliant idea, Trixy!" exclaimed Mrs. Kame. 

"I should be delighted, " said Honora, somewhat weakly. An impulse madeher glance toward the veranda, and for a fraction of a second she caughtthe eye of Lily Dallam, who turned again to Mrs. Chandos. 

"I say, " said Mr. Cuthbert, "I don't play--but I hope I may come along. "

"And me too, " chimed in Mr. Wing. 

Honora, not free from a certain uneasiness of conscience, led the way tothe Brackens, flanked by Mr. Grainger and Mr. Cuthbert. Her frame of mindwas not an ideal one for a hostess; she was put out with Trixton Brent, and she could not help wondering whether these people would have madethemselves so free with another house. When tea was over, however, andthe bridge had begun, her spirits rose; or rather, a new and strangeexcitement took possession of her that was not wholly due to the noveland revolutionary experience of playing, for money--and winning. Her starbeing in the ascendant, as we may perceive. She had drawn Mrs. Kame for apartner, and the satisfaction and graciousness of that lady visibly grewas the score mounted: even the skill of Trixton Brent could not triumphover the hands which the two ladies held. 

In the intervals the talk wandered into regions unfamiliar to Honora, andshe had a sense that her own horizon was being enlarged. A new vista, atleast, had been cut: possibilities became probabilities. Even when Mrs. Kame chose to ridicule Quicksands Honora was silent, so keenly did shefeel the justice of her guest's remarks; and the implication was thatHonora did not belong there. When train time arrived and they were aboutto climb into Trixton Brent's omnibus--for which he had obliginglytelephoned--Mrs. Kame took Honora's band in both her own. Some goodthing, after all, could come out of this community--such was thetriumphant discovery the lady's manner implied. 

"My dear, don't you ever come to Banbury?" she asked. I'd be so glad tosee you. I must get Trixy to drive you over some day for lunch. We've hadsuch a good time, and Cecil didn't fall asleep once. Quite a record. Yousaved our lives, really. "

"Are you going to be in town this winter?" Mr. Grainger inquired. 

"I, --I suppose so--replied Honora, for the moment taken aback, although Ihaven't decided just where. "

"I shall look forward to seeing you, " he said. 

This hope was expressed even more fervently by Mr. Cuthbert and Mr. Wing, and the whole party waved her a cordial good-by as the carriage turnedthe circle. Trixton Brent, with his hands in his pockets, stood facingher under the electric light on the porch. 

"Well?" he said. 

"Well, " repeated Honora. 

"Nice people, " said Mr. Brent. 

Honora bridled. 

"You invited them here, " she said. "I must say I think it, was rather--presumptuous. And you've got me into no end of trouble with LilyDallam. "

He laughed as he held open the screen door for her. 

"I wonder whether a good angel was ever so abused, " he said. 

"A good angel, " she repeated, smiling at him in spite of herself. 

"Or knight-errant, " he continued, "whichever you choose. You want to getout of Quicksands--I'm trying to make it easy for you. Before you leaveyou have to arrange some place to go. Before we are off with the old we'dbetter be on with the new. "

"Oh, please don't say such things, " she cried, "they're so--so sordid. "She looked searchingly into his face. "Do I really seem to you likethat?"

Her lip was quivering, and she was still under the influence of theexcitement which the visit of these people had brought about. 

"No, " said Brent--coming very close to her, "no, you don't. That's theextraordinary part of it. The trouble with you, Honora, is that you wantsomething badly very badly--and you haven't yet found out what it is. 

"And you won't find out, " he added, "until you have tried everything. Therefore am I a good Samaritan, or something like it. "

She looked at him with startled eyes, breathing deeply. 

"I wonder if that is so!" she said, in a low voice. 

"Not until you have had and broken every toy in the shop, " he declared. "Out of the mouths of men of the world occasionally issues wisdom. I'mgoing to help you get the toys. Don't you think I'm kind?"

"And isn't this philanthropic mood a little new to you?" she asked. 

"I thought I had exhausted all novelties, " he answered. "Perhaps that'sthe reason why I enjoy it. "

She turned and walked slowly into the drawing-room, halted, and stoodstaring at the heap of gold and yellow bills that Mr. Grainger haddeposited in front of the place where she had sat. Her sensation was akinto sickness. She reached out with a kind of shuddering fascination andtouched the gold. 

"I think, " she said, speaking rather to herself than to Brent, "I'll giveit to charity. "

"If it is possible to combine a meritorious act with good policy, Ishould suggest giving it to Mrs. Grainger for the relief of oppressedworking girls, " he said. 

Honora started. 

"I wonder why Howard doesn't come she exclaimed, looking at the clock. 

"Probably because he is holding nothing but full hands and flushes, "hazarded Mr. Brent. "Might I propose myself for dinner?"

"When so many people are clamouring for you?" she asked. 

"Even so, " he said. 

"I think I'll telephone to the Club, " said Honora, and left the room. 

It was some time before her husband responded to the call; and then heexplained that if Honora didn't object, he was going to a man's dinner ina private room. The statement was not unusual. 

"But, Howard, " she said, I--I wanted you particularly to-night. "

"I thought you were going to dine with Lily Dallam. She told me you were. Are you alone?"

"Mr. Brent is here. He brought over some Banbury people to play bridge. They've gone. "

"Oh, Brent will amuse you, " he replied. "I didn't know you were going tobe home, and I've promised these men. I'll come back early. "

She hung up the receiver thoughtfully, paused a moment, and went back tothe drawing-room. Brent looked up. 

"Well, " he said, "was I right?"

"You seem always to be right, " Honora, sighed. 

After dinner they sat in the screened part of the porch which Mrs. Fernhad arranged very cleverly as an outside room. Brent had put a rug overHonora's knees, for the ocean breath that stirred the leaves was cold. Across the darkness fragments of dance music drifted fitfully from theClub, and died away; and at intervals, when the embers of his cigarflared up, she caught sight of her companion's face. 

She found him difficult to understand. There are certain rules of thumbin every art, no doubt, --even in that most perilous one of lion-taming. But here was a baffling, individual lion. She liked him best, she toldherself, when he purred platonically, but she could by no means be surethat his subjection was complete. Sometimes he had scratched her in hisplay. And however natural it is to desire a lion for one's friend, to beeaten is both uncomfortable and inglorious. 

"That's, a remarkable husband of yours, " he said at length. 

"I shouldn't have said that you were a particularly good judge ofhusbands, " she retorted, after a moment of surprise. 

He acknowledged with a laugh the justice of this observation. 

"I stand corrected. He is by no means a remarkable husband. Permit me tosay he is a remarkable man. "

"What makes you think so?" asked Honora, considerably disturbed. 

"Because he induced you to marry him, for one thing, " said Brent. "Ofcourse he got you before you knew what you were worth, but we must givehim credit for discovery and foresight. "

"Perhaps, " Honora could not resist replying, "perhaps he didn't know whathe was getting. "

"That's probably true, " Brent assented, "or he'd be sitting here now, where I am, instead of playing poker. Although there is something inmatrimony that takes the bloom off the peach. "

"I think that's a horrid, cynical remark, " said Honora. 

"Well, " he said, "we speak according to our experiences--that is, ifwe're not inclined to be hypocritical. Most women are. "

Honora was silent. He had thrown away his cigar, and she could no longersee his face. She wondered whither he was leading. 

"How would you like to see your husband president of a trust company?" hesaid suddenly. 

"Howard--president of a trust company!" she exclaimed. 

"Why not?" he demanded. And added enigmatically, "Smaller men have been. "

"I wish you wouldn't joke about Howard, " she said. 

"How does the idea strike you?" he persisted. "Ambition satisfied--temporarily; Quicksands a mile-stone on a back road; another toy tobreak; husband a big man in the community, so far as the eye can see;visiting list on Fifth Avenue, and all that sort of thing. "

"I once told you you could be brutal, " she said. 

"You haven't told me what you thought of the idea. "

"I wish you'd be sensible once in a while, " she exclaimed. 

"Howard Spence, President of the Orange Trust Company!" he recited. "Isuppose no man is a hero to his wife. Does it sound so incredible?"

It did. But Honora did not say so. 

"What have I to do with it?" she asked, in pardonable doubt as to hisseriousness. 

"Everything, " answered Brent. "Women of your type usually have. They makeand mar without rhyme or reason--set business by the ears, alter the goldreserve, disturb the balance of trade, and nobody ever suspects it. OldJames Wing and I have got a trust company organized, and the building up, and the man Wing wanted for president backed out. "

Honora sat up. 

"Why--why did he 'back out'?" she demanded. 

"He preferred to stay where he was, I suppose, " replied Brent, in anothertone. "The point is that the place is empty. I'll give it to YOU. "

"To me?"

"Certainly, " said Brent, "I don't pretend to care anything about yourhusband. He'll do as well as the next man. His duties are pretty well--defined. "

Again she was silent. But after a moment dropped back in her chair andlaughed uneasily. 

"You're preposterous, " she said; "I can't think why I let you talk to mein this way. "

CHAPTER VIII

OF MENTAL PROCESSES--FEMININE AND INSOLUBLE

Honora may be pardoned for finally ascribing to Mr. Brent's somewhatsardonic sense of humour his remarks concerning her husband's elevationto a conspicuous position in the world of finance. Taken in any othersense than a joke, they were both insulting and degrading, and made herface burn when she thought of them. After he had gone--or rather aftershe had dismissed him--she took a book upstairs to wait for Howard, butshe could not read. At times she wished she had rebuked Trixton Brentmore forcibly, although he was not an easy person to rebuke; and againshe reflected that, had she taken the matter too seriously, she wouldhave laid herself open to his ridicule. The lion was often unwittinglyrough, and perhaps that was part of his fascination. 

If Howard had come home before midnight it is possible that she mighthave tried to sound him as to his relations with Trixton Brent. Thatgentleman, she remembered, had the reputation of being a peculiarlyhardheaded business man, and it was of course absurd that he should offerher husband a position merely to please her. And her imagination failedher when she tried to think of Howard as the president of a trustcompany. She was unable to picture him in a great executive office:

This tram of thought led her to the unaccustomed task of analyzing hischaracter. For the first time since her marriage comparisons crept intoher mind, and she awoke to the fact that he was not a masterful man--evenamong men. For all his self-confidence-self-assurance, perhaps, would bethe better word--he was in reality a follower, not a leader; a gleaner. He did not lack ideas. She tried to arrest the process in her brain whenshe got as far as asking herself whether it might not be that he lackedideals. Since in business matters he never had taken her into hisconfidence, and since she would not at any rate have understood suchthings, she had no proof of such a failing. But one or two vague remarksof Trixton Brent's which she recalled, and Howard's own request that sheshould be friendly with Brent, reenforced her instinct on this point. 

When she heard her husband's footstep on the porch, she put out herlight, but still lay thinking in the darkness. Her revelations hadarrived at the uncomfortable stage where they began to frighten her, andwith an effort she forced herself to turn to the other side of theaccount. The hour was conducive to exaggerations. Perfection in husbandswas evidently a state not to be considered by any woman in her rightsenses. He was more or less amenable, and he was prosperous, althoughdefinite news of that prosperity never came from him--Quicksands alwaysknew of it first. An instance of this second-hand acquisition ofknowledge occurred the very next morning, when Lily Dallam, with muchdignity, walked into Honora's little sitting-room. There was no apparentreason why dignity should not have been becoming to Lily Dallam, for shewas by no means an unimpressive-looking woman; but the assumption by herof that quality always made her a little tragic or (if one chanced to bein the humour--Honora was not) a little ridiculous. 

"I suppose I have no pride, " she said, as she halted within a few feet ofthe doorway. 

"Why, Lily!" exclaimed Honora, pushing back the chair from her desk, andrising. 

But Mrs. Dallam did not move. 

"I suppose I have no pride, " she repeated in a dead voice, "but I justcouldn't help coming over and giving you a chance. "

"Giving me a chance?" said Honora. 

"To explain--after the way you treated me at the polo game. If I hadn'tseen it with my own eyes, I shouldn't have believed it. I don't think Ishould have trusted my own eyes, " Mrs. Dallam went so far as to affirm, "if Lula Chandos and Clara Trowbridge and others hadn't been there andseen it too; I shouldn't have believed it. "

Honora was finding penitence a little difficult. But her heart was kind. 

"Do sit down, Lily, " she begged. "If I've offended you in any way, I'mexceedingly sorry--I am, really. You ought to know me well enough tounderstand that I wouldn't do anything to hurt your feelings. "

"And when I counted on you so, for my tea and dinner at the club!"continued Mrs. Dallam. "There were other women dying to come. And yousaid you had a headache, and were tired. "

"I was, " began Honora, fruitlessly. 

"And you were so popular in Quicksands--everybody was crazy about you. You were so sweet and so unspoiled. I might have known that it couldn'tlast. And now, because Abby Kame and Cecil Grainger and--"

"Lily, please don't say such things!" Honora implored, revolted. 

"Of course you won't be satisfied now with anything less than Banbury orNewport. But you can't say I didn't warn you, Honora, that they are ahorrid, selfish, fast lot, " Lily Dallam declared, and brushed her eyeswith her handkerchief. "I did love you. "

"If you'll only be reasonable a moment, Lily, --" said Honora. 

"Reasonable! I saw you with my own eyes. Five minutes after you left methey all started for your house, and Lula Chandos said it was thequickest cure of a headache she had ever seen. "

"Lily, " Honora began again, with exemplary patience, when people invitethemselves to one's house, it's a little difficult to refuse themhospitality, isn't it?"

"Invite themselves?"

"Yes, " replied Honora. "If I weren't--fond of you, too, I shouldn't makethis explanation. I was tired. I never felt less like entertainingstrangers. They wanted to play bridge, there wasn't a quiet spot in theClub where they could go. They knew I was on my way home, and theysuggested my house. That is how it happened. "

Mrs. Dallam was silent a moment. 

"May I have one of Howard's cigarettes?" she asked, and added, after thismodest wish had been supplied, that's just like them. They're willing tomake use of anybody. "

"I meant, " said Honora, "to have gone to your house this morning and tohave explained how it happened. "

Another brief silence, broken by Lily Dallam. 

"Did you notice the skirt of that suit Abby Kame had on?", she asked. "I'm sure she paid a fabulous price for it in Paris, and it's exactlylike one I ordered on Tuesday. "

The details of the rest of this conversation may be omitted. That Honorawas forgiven, and Mrs. Dallam's spirits restored may be inferred from herfinal remark. 

"My dear, what do you think of Sid and Howard making twenty thousanddollars apiece in Sassafras Copper? Isn't it too lovely! I'm having alittle architect make me plans for a conservatory. You know I've alwaysbeen dying for one--I don't see how I've lived all these years withoutit. "

Honora, after her friend had gone, sat down in one of the wicker chairson the porch. She had a very vague idea as to how much twenty thousanddollars was, but she reflected that while they had lived in RivingtonHoward must have made many similar sums, of which she was unaware. Gradually she began to realize, however, that her resentment of the lackof confidence of her husband was by no means the only cause of thefeeling that took possession of and overwhelmed her. Something like itshe had experienced before: to-day her thoughts seemed to run through herin pulsations, like waves of heat, and she wondered that she could havecontrolled herself while listening to Lily Dallam. 

Mrs. Dallam's reproaches presented themselves to Honora in new aspects. She began to feel now, with an intensity that frightened her, distasteand rebellion. It was intolerable that she should be called to accountfor the people she chose to have in her house, that any sort of pressureshould be brought to bear on her to confine her friends to Quicksands. Treason, heresy, disloyalty to the cult of that community--in realitythese, and not a breach of engagement, were the things of which she hadbeen accused. She saw now. She would not be tied to Quicksands--she wouldnot, she would not, she would not! She owed it no allegiance. Her verysoul rebelled at the thought, and cried out that she was made forsomething better, something higher than the life she had been leading. She would permit no one forcibly to restrict her horizon. 

Just where and how this higher and better life was to be found Honora didnot know; but the belief of her childhood--that it existed somewhere--wasstill intact. Her powers of analysis, we see, are only just budding, andshe did not and could not define the ideal existence which she sounflaggingly sought. Of two of its attributes only she was sure--that itwas to be free from restraint and from odious comparisons. Honora'sdevelopment, it may be remarked, proceeds by the action of irritants, andof late her protest against Quicksands and what it represented had drivenher to other books besides the treatise on bridge. The library she hadcollected at Rivington she had brought with her, and was adding to itfrom time to time. Its volumes are neither sufficiently extensive orprofound to enumerate. 

Those who are more or less skilled in psychology may attempt to establisha sequence between the events and reflections just related and the factthat, one morning a fortnight later, Honora found herself drivingnorthward on Fifth Avenue in a hansom cab. She was in a pleasurable stateof adventurous excitement, comparable to that Columbus must have feltwhen the shores of the Old World had disappeared below the horizon. During the fortnight we have skipped Honora had been to town severaltimes, and had driven and walked through certain streets: inspiration, courage, and decision had all arrived at once this morning, when at theferry she had given the cabman this particular address on Fifth Avenue. 

The cab, with the jerking and thumping peculiar to hansoms, made a circleand drew up at the curb. But even then a moment of irresolutionintervened, and she sat staring through the little side window at thesign, T. Gerald Shorter, Real Estate, in neat gold letters over thebasement floor of the building. 

"Here y'are, Miss, " said the cabman through the hole in the roof. 

Honora descended, and was almost at the flight of steps leading down tothe office door when a familiar figure appeared coming out of it. It wasthat of Mr. Toots Cuthbert, arrayed in a faultless morning suit, his tiedelicately suggestive of falling leaves; and there dangled over his armthe slenderest of walking sticks. 

"Mrs. Spence!" he lisped, with every appearance of joy. 

"Mr. Cuthbert!" she cried. 

"Going in to see Jerry?" he inquired after he had put on his hat, noddingup at the sign. 

"I--that is, yes, I had thought of it, " she answered. 

"Town house?" said Mr. Cuthbert, with a knowing smile. 

"I did have an idea of looking at houses, " she confessed, somewhat takenaback. 

"I'm your man, " announced Mr. Cuthbert. 

"You!" exclaimed Honora, with an air of considering the lilies of thefield. But he did not seem to take offence. 

"That's my business, " he proclaimed, --"when in town. Jerry gives me acommission. Come in and see him, while I get a list and some keys. By theway, you wouldn't object to telling him you were a friend of mine, wouldyou?"

"Not at all, " said Honora, laughing. 

Mr. Shorter was a jovial gentleman in loose-fitting clothes, and he wasexceedingly glad to meet Mr. Cuthbert's friend. 

"What kind of a house do you want, Mrs. Spence?" he asked. "Cuthberttells me this morning that the Whitworth house has come into the market. You couldn't have a better location than that, on the Avenue between theCathedral and the Park. "

"Oh, " said Honora with a gasp, "that's much too expensive, I'm sure. Andthere are only two of us. " She hesitated, a little alarmed at therapidity with which affairs were proceeding, and added: "I ought to tellyou that I've not really decided to take a house. I wished to--to seewhat there was to be had, and then I should have to consult my husband. "

She gazed very seriously into Mr. Shorter's brown eyes, which became verywide and serious, too. But all the time it seemed to her that other partsof him were laughing. 

"Husbands, " he declared, "are kill-joys. What have they got to do with ahouse--except to sleep in it? Now I haven't the pleasure of knowing youas well as I hope to one of these days, Mrs. Spence--"

"Oh, I say!" interrupted Mr. Cuthbert. 

"But I venture to predict, on a slight acquaintance, " continued Mr. Shorter, undisturbed, "that you will pick out the house you want, andthat your husband will move into it. "

Honora could not help laughing. And Mr. Shorter leaned back in hisrevolving chair and laughed, too, in so alarming a manner as to lead herto fear he would fall over backwards. But Mr. Cuthbert, who did notappear to perceive the humour in this conversation, extracted some keysand several pasteboard slips from a rack in the corner. Suddenly Mr. Shorter jerked himself upright again, and became very solemn. 

"Where's my hat?" he demanded. 

"What do you want with your hat?" Mr. Cuthbert inquired. 

"Why, I'm going with you, of course, " Mr. Shorter replied. "I've decidedto take a personal interest in this matter. You may regard my presence, Cuthbert, as justified by an artistic passion for my profession. I shouldnever forgive myself if Mrs. Spence didn't get just the right house. "

"Oh, " said Mr. Cuthbert, "I'll manage that all right. I thought you weregoing to see the representative of a syndicate at eleven. "

Mr. Shorter, with a sigh, acknowledged this necessity, and escortedHonora gallantly through the office and across the sidewalk to thewaiting hansom. Cuthbert got in beside her. 

"Jerry's a joker, " he observed as they drove off, "you mustn't mind him. "

"I think he's delightful, " said Honora. 

"One wouldn't believe that a man of his size and appearance could be sofond of women, " said Mr. Cuthbert. "He's the greatest old lady-killerthat ever breathed. For two cents he would have come with us thismorning, and let a five thousand dollar commission go. Do you know Mrs. Shorter?"

"No, " replied Honora. "She looks most attractive. I caught a glimpse ofher at the polo that day with you. "

"I've been at her house in Newport ever since. Came down yesterday to tryto earn some money, " he continued, cheerfully making himself agreeable. "Deuced clever woman, much too clever for me and Jerry too. Always in atete-a-tete with an antiquarian or a pathologist, or a psychologist, andtells novelists what to put into their next books and jurists how todecide cases. Full of modern and liberal ideas--believes in free love andall that sort of thing, and gives Jerry the dickens for practising it. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Honora. 

Mr. Cuthbert, however, did not appear to realize that he had shocked her. 

"By the way, " he asked, "have you seen Cecil Grainger since theQuicksands game?"

"No, " she replied. "Has Mr. Grainger been at Quicksands since?"

"Nobody knows where he's been, " answered Mr. Cuthbert. "It's a mystery. He hasn't been home--at Newport, I mean-for a fortnight. He's neverstayed away so long without letting any one know where he is. Naturallythey thought he was at Mrs. Kame's in Banbury, but she hasn't laid eyeson him. It's a mystery. My own theory is that he went to sleep in aparlour car and was sent to the yards, and hasn't waked up. "

"And isn't Mrs. Grainger worried?" asked Honora. 

"Oh, you never can tell anything about her, " he said. "Do you know her?She's a sphinx. All the Pendletons are Stoics. And besides, she's been sobusy with this Charities Conference that she hasn't had time to think ofCecil. Who's that?"

"That" was a lady from Rivington, one of Honora's former neighbours, towhom she had bowed. Life, indeed, is full of contrasts. Mr. Cuthbert, too, was continually bowing and waving to acquaintances on the Avenue. 

Thus pleasantly conversing, they arrived at the first house on the list, and afterwards went through a succession of them. Once inside, Honorawould look helplessly about her in the darkness while her escort wouldraise the shades, admitting a gloomy light on bare interiors or shroudedfurniture. 

And the rents: Four, five, six, and seven and eight thousand dollars ayear. Pride prevented her from discussing these prices with Mr. Cuthbert;and in truth, when lunch time came, she had seen nothing which realizedher somewhat vague but persistent ideals. 

"I'm so much obliged to you, " she said, "and I hope you'll forgive me forwasting your time. "

Mr. Cuthbert smiled broadly, and Honora smiled too. 

Indeed, there was something ludicrous in the remark. He assumed anattitude of reflection. 

"I imagine you wouldn't care to go over beyond Lexington Avenue, wouldyou? I didn't think to ask you. "

"No, " she replied, blushing a little, "I shouldn't care to go over as faras that. "

He pondered a while longer, when suddenly his face lighted up. 

"I've got it!" he cried, "the very thing--why didn't. I think of it?Dicky Farnham's house, or rather his wife's house. I'll get it straightafter a while, --she isn't his wife any more, you know; she marriedEustace Rindge last month. That's the reason it's for rent. Dicky sayshe'll never get married again--you bet! They planned it together, laidthe corner-stone and all that sort of thing, and before it was finishedshe had a divorce and had gone abroad with Rindge. I saw her before shesailed, and she begged me to rent it. But it isn't furnished. "

"I might look at it, " said Honora, dubiously. 

"I'm sure it will just suit you, " he declared with enthusiasm. "It's areal find. We'll drive around by the office and get the keys. "

The house was between Fifth Avenue and Madison, on a cross street not farbelow Fifty-Ninth, and Honora had scarcely entered the littleoak-panelled hall before she had forgotten that Mr. Cuthbert was a realestate agent--a most difficult thing to remember. 

Upstairs, the drawing-room was flooded with sunlight that poured inthrough a window with stone mullions and leaded panes extending theentire width of the house. Against the wall stood a huge stone mantel ofthe Tudor period, and the ceiling was of wood. Behind the little hall acosey library lighted by a well, and behind that an ample dining-room. And Honora remembered to have seen, in a shop on Fourth Avenue, just thesideboard for such a setting. 

On the third floor, as Mr. Cuthbert pointed out, there was a bedroom andboudoir for Mrs. Spence, and a bedroom and dressing-room for Mr. Spence. Into the domestic arrangement of the house, however important, we neednot penetrate. The rent was eight thousand dollars, which Mr. Cuthbertthought extremely reasonable. 

"Eight thousand dollars!" As she stood with her back turned, looking outon the street, some trick of memory brought into her mind the fact thatshe had once heard her uncle declare that he had bought his house and lotfor that exact sum. And as cashier of Mr. Isham's bank, he did not earnso much in a year. 

She had found the house, indeed, but the other and mightier half of thetask remained, of getting Howard into it. In the consideration of thismost difficult of problems Honora, who in her exaltation had beheldherself installed in every room, grew suddenly serious. She was startledout of her reflections by a remark of almost uncanny penetration on thepart of Mr. Cuthbert. 

"Oh, he'll come round all right, when he sees the house, " that younggentleman declared. 

Honora turned quickly, and, after a moment of astonishment, laughed inspite of herself. It was impossible not to laugh with Mr. Cuthbert, soirresistible and debonair was he, so confiding and sympathetic, that hebecame; before one knew it, an accomplice. Had he not poured out toHonora, with a charming gayety and frankness, many of his financialtroubles?

"I'm afraid he'll think it frightfully expensive, " she answered, becomingthoughtful once more. And it did not occur to her that neither of themhad mentioned the individual to whom they referred. 

"Wait until he's feeling tiptop, " Mr. Cuthbert advised, "and then bringhim up here in a hurry. I say, I hope you do take the house, " he added, with a boyish seriousness after she had refused his appeal to lunch withhim, "and that you will let me come and see you once in a while. "

She lunched alone, in a quiet corner of the dining-room of one of thelarge hotels, gazing at intervals absently out of the window. And by themiddle of the afternoon she found herself, quite unexpectedly, in theantique furniture shop, gazing at the sideboard and a set ofleather-seated Jacobean chairs, and bribing the dealer with a smile tohold them for a few days until she could decide whether she wished them. In a similar mood of abstraction she boarded the ferry, but it was notuntil the boat had started on its journey that she became aware of atrim, familiar figure in front of her, silhouetted against the ruffedblue waters of the river--Trixton Brent's. And presently, as though theconcentration of her thoughts upon his back had summoned him, he turned. 

"Where have you been all this time?" she asked. "I haven't seen you foran age. "

"To Seattle. "

"To Seattle!" she exclaimed. "What were you doing there?"

"Trying to forget you, " he replied promptly, "and incidentally attemptingto obtain control of some properties. Both efforts, I may add, wereunsuccessful. "

"I'm sorry, " said Honora. 

"And what mischief, " he demanded, "have you been up to?"

"You'll never guess!" she exclaimed. 

"Preparing for the exodus, " he hazarded. 

"You surely don't expect me to stay in Quicksands all winter?" shereplied, a little guiltily. 

"Quicksands, " he declared, "has passed into history. "

"You always insist upon putting a wrong interpretation upon what I do, "she complained. 

He laughed. 

"What interpretation do you put on it?" he asked. 

"A most natural and praiseworthy one, " she answered. "Education, improvement, growth--these things are as necessary for a woman as for aman. Of course I don't expect you to believe that--your idea of women notbeing a very exalted one. "

He did not reply, for at that instant the bell rang, the passengerspressed forward about them, and they were soon in the midst of theconfusion of a landing. It was not until they were seated in adjoiningchairs of the parlour-car that the conversation was renewed. 

"When do you move to town?" he inquired. 

However simple Mr. Brent's methods of reasoning may appear to others, hisapparent clairvoyance never failed to startle Honora. 

"Somebody has told you that I've been looking at houses!" she exclaimed. 

"Have you found one?"

She hesitated. 

"Yes--I have found one. It belongs to some people named Farnham--they'redivorced. "

"Dicky Farnham's ex-wife, " he supplied. "I know where it is--unexceptionable neighbourhood and all that sort of thing. "

"And it's just finished, " continued Honora, her enthusiasm gaining on heras she spoke of the object which had possessed her mind for four hours. "It's the most enchanting house, and so sunny for New York. If I hadbuilt it myself it could not have suited me better. Only--"

"Only--" repeated Trixton Brent, smiling. 

"Well, " she said slowly, "I really oughtn't to talk about it. I--Ihaven't said anything to Howard yet, and he may not like it. I ran acrossit by the merest accident. "

"What will you give me, " he said, "if I can induce Howard to like it?"

"My eternal friendship, " she laughed. 

"That's not enough, " said Trixton Brent. 

CHAPTER IX

INTRODUCING A REVOLUTIONIZING VEHICLE

"Howard, " said Honora that evening, "I've been going through housesto-day. "

"Houses!" he exclaimed, looking up from his newspaper. 

"And I've been most fortunate, " she continued. "I found one that Mrs. Farnham built--she is now Mrs. Rindge. It is just finished, and soattractive. If I'd looked until doomsday I couldn't have done anybetter. "

"But great Scott!" he ejaculated, "what put the notion of a town houseinto your head?"

"Isn't it high time to be thinking of the winter?" she asked. "It'snearly the end of September. "

He was inarticulate for a few moments, in an evident desperate attempt torally his forces to meet such an unforeseen attack. 

"Who said anything about going to town?" he inquired. 

"Now, Howard, don't be foolish, " she replied. "Surely you didn't expectto stay in Quicksands all winter?"

"Foolish!" he repeated, and added inconsequently, "why not?"

"Because, " said Honora, calmly, "I have a life to lead as well as you. "

"But you weren't satisfied until you got to Quicksands, and now you wantto leave it. "

"I didn't bargain to stay here in the winter, " she declared. "You knowvery well that if you were unfortunate it would be different. But you'requite prosperous. "

"How do you know?" he demanded unguardedly. 

"Quicksands tells me, " she said. "It is--a little humiliating not to havemore of your confidence, and to hear such things from outsiders. "

"You never seemed interested in business matters, " he answered uneasily. 

"I should be, " said Honora, "if you would only take the trouble to tellme about them. " She stood up. "Howard, can't you see that it is makingus--grow apart? If you won't tell me about yourself and what you'redoing, you drive me to other interests. I am your wife, and I ought toknow--I want to know. The reason I don't understand is because you'venever taken the trouble to teach me. I wish to lead my own life, it istrue--to develop. I don't want to be like these other women down here. I--I was made for something better. I'm sure of it. But I wish my life tobe joined to yours, too--and it doesn't seem to be. And sometimes--I'mafraid I can't explain it to you--sometimes I feel lonely and frightened, as though I might do something desperate. And I don't know what's goingto become of me. "

He laid down his newspaper and stared at her helplessly, with the air ofa man who suddenly finds himself at sea in a small boat without oars. 

"Oh, you can't understand!" she cried. "I might have known you nevercould. "

He was, indeed, thoroughly perplexed and uncomfortable: unhappy might notbe too strong a word. He got up awkwardly and put his hand on her arm. She did not respond. He drew her, limp and unresisting, down on thelounge beside him. 

"For heaven's sake, what is the matter, Honora?" he faltered. "I--Ithought we were happy. You were getting on all right, and seemed to behaving a good time down here. You never said anything about--this. "

She turned her head and looked at him--a long, searching look withwidened eyes. 

"No, " she said slowly, "you don't understand. I suppose it isn't yourfault. "

"I'll try, " he said, "I don't like to see you--upset like this. I'll doanything I can to make you happy. "

"Not things, not--not toys, " Trixton Brent's expression involuntarilycoming to her lips. "Oh, can't you see I'm not that kind of a woman? Idon't want to be bought. I want you, whatever you are, if you are. I wantto be saved. Take care of me--see a little more of me--be a littleinterested in what I think. God gave me a mind, and--other men havediscovered it. You don't know, you can't know, what temptations yousubject me to. It isn't right, Howard. And oh, it is humiliating not tobe able to interest one's husband. "

"But you do interest me, " he protested. 

She shook her head. 

"Not so much as your business, " she said; "not nearly so much. "

"Perhaps I have been too absorbed, " he confessed. "One thing has followedanother. I didn't suspect that you felt this way. Come, I'll try to braceup. " He pressed her to him. "Don't feel badly. You're overwrought. You'veexaggerated the situation, Honora. We'll go in on the eight o'clock traintogether and look at the house--although I'm afraid it's a little steep, "he added cautiously. 

"I don't care anything about the house, " said Honora. "I don't want it. "

"There!" he said soothingly, "you'll feel differently in the morning. We'll go and look at it, anyway. "

Her quick ear, however, detected an undertone which, if not preciselyresentment, was akin to the vexation that an elderly gentleman might bejustified in feeling who has taken the same walk for twenty years, and isone day struck by a falling brick. Howard had not thought of consultingher in regard to remaining all winter in Quicksands. And, although hemight not realize it himself, if he should consent to go to New York onereason for his acquiescence would be that the country in winter offered amore or less favourable atmosphere for the recurrence of similarunpleasant and unaccountable domestic convulsions. Business demands peaceat any price. And the ultimatum at Rivington, though delivered in sodifferent a manner, recurred to him. 

The morning sunlight, as is well known, is a dispeller of moods, adisintegrator of the night's fantasies. It awoke Honora at what for herwas a comparatively early hour, and as she dressed rapidly she heard herhusband whistling in his room. It is idle to speculate on the phenomenontaking place within her, and it may merely be remarked in passing thatshe possessed a quality which, in a man, leads to a career and fame. Unimagined numbers of America's women possess that quality--a fact thatis becoming more and more apparent every day. 

"Why, Honora!" Howard exclaimed, as she appeared at the breakfast table. "What's happened to you?"

"Have you forgotten already, " she asked, smilingly, as she poured out hercoffee, "that we are going to town together?"

He readjusted his newspaper against the carafe. 

"How much do you think Mrs. Farnham--or Mrs. Rindge--is worth?" he asked. 

"I'm sure I don't know, " she replied. 

"Old Marshall left her five million dollars. "

"What has that to do with it?" inquired Honora. 

"She isn't going to rent, especially in that part of town, for nothing. "

"Wouldn't it be wiser, Howard, to wait and see the house. You know youproposed it yourself, and it won't take very much of your time. "

He returned to a perusal of the financial column, but his eye from timeto time wandered from the sheet to his wife, who was reading her letters. 

"Howard, " she said, "I feel dreadfully about Mrs. Holt. We haven't beenat Silverdale all summer. Here's a note from her saying she'll be in townto-morrow for the Charities Conference, asking me to come to see her ather hotel. I think I'll go to Silverdale a little later. "

"Why don't you?" he said. "It would do you good. "

"And you?" she asked. 

"My only day of the week is Sunday, Honora. You know that. And I wouldn'tspend another day at Silverdale if they gave me a deed to the property, "he declared. 

On the train, when Howard had returned from the smoking car and they wereabout to disembark at Long Island City, they encountered Mr. TrixtonBrent. 

"Whither away?" he cried in apparent astonishment. "Up at dawn, and theeight o'clock train!"

"We were going to look at a house, " explained Honora, "and Howard has noother time. "

"I'll go, too, " declared Mr. Brent, promptly. "You mightn't think me ajudge of houses, but I am. I've lived in so many bad ones that I know agood one when I see it now. "

"Honora has got a wild notion into her head that I'm going to take theFarnham house, " said Howard, smiling. There, on the deck of theferryboat, in the flooding sunlight, the idea seemed to give himamusement. With the morning light Pharaoh must have hardened his heart. 

"Well, perhaps you are, " said Mr. Brent, conveying to Honora his delightin the situation by a scarcely perceptible wink. "I shouldn't like totake the other end of the bet. Why shouldn't you? You're fat and healthyand making money faster than you can gather it in. "

Howard coughed, and laughed a little, uncomfortably. Trixton Brent wasnot a man to offend. 

"Honora has got that delusion, too, " he replied. He steeled himself inhis usual manner for the ordeal to come by smoking a cigarette, for thearrival of such a powerful ally on his wife's side lent a differentaspect to the situation. 

Honora, during this colloquy, was silent. She was a little uncomfortable, and pretended not to see Mr. Brent's wink. 

"Incredible as it may seem, I expected to have my automobile ready thismorning, " he observed; "we might have gone in that. It landed three daysago, but so far it has failed to do anything but fire off revolvershots. "

"Oh, I do wish you had it, " said Honora, relieved by the change ofsubject. "To drive in one must be such a wonderful sensation. "

"I'll let you know when it stops shooting up the garage and consents tomove out, " he said. "I'll take you down to Quicksands in it. "

The prospective arrival of Mr. Brent's French motor car, which was lookedfor daily, had indeed been one of the chief topics of conversation atQuicksands that summer. He could appear at no lunch or dinner partywithout being subjected to a shower of questions as to where it was, andas many as half a dozen different women among whom was Mrs. Chandos--declared that he had promised to bring them out from New York on theoccasion of its triumphal entry into the colony. Honora, needless to say, had betrayed no curiosity. 

Neither Mr. Shorter nor Mr. Cuthbert had appeared at the real estateoffice when, at a little after nine o'clock; Honora asked for the keys. And an office boy, perched on the box seat of the carriage, drove withthem to the house and opened the wrought-iron gate that guarded theentrance, and the massive front door. Honora had a sense of unreality asthey entered, and told herself it was obviously ridiculous that sheshould aspire to such a dwelling. Yesterday, under the spell of thatsomewhat adventurous excursion with Mr. Cuthbert, she had picturedherself as installed. He had contrived somehow to give her a sense ofintimacy with the people who lived thereabout--his own friends. 

Perhaps it was her husband who was the disillusionizing note as he stoodon the polished floor of the sunflooded drawing-room. Although bare offurniture, it was eloquent to Honora of a kind of taste not to be foundat Quicksands: it carried her back, by undiscernible channels of thought, to the impression which, in her childhood, the Hanbury mansion had alwaysmade. Howard, in her present whimsical fancy, even seemed a littlegrotesque in such a setting. His inevitable pink shirt and obviouslyprosperous clothes made discord there, and she knew in this moment thathe was appraising the house from a commercial standpoint. His commentconfirmed her guess. 

"If I were starting out to blow myself, or you, Honora, " he said, pokingwith his stick a marmouset of the carved stone mantel, "I'd get a littlemore for my money while I was about it. "

Honora did not reply. She looked out of the window instead. 

"See here, old man, " said Trixton Brent, "I'm not a real estate dealer oran architect, but if I were in your place I'd take that carriage andhustle over to Jerry Shorter's as fast as I could and sign the lease. "

Howard looked at him in some surprise, as one who had learned thatTrixton Brent's opinions were usually worth listening to. Characteristically, he did not like to display his ignorance. 

"I know what you mean, Brent, " he replied, "and there may be something tothe argument. It gives an idea of conservativeness and prosperity. "

"You've made a bull's-eye, " said Trixton Brent, succinctly. 

"But--but I'm not ready to begin on this scale, " objected Howard. 

"Why, " cried Brent, with evident zest--for he was a man who enjoyed sportin all its forms, even to baiting the husbands of his friends, --"when Ifirst set eyes on you, old fellow, I thought you knew a thing or two, andyou've made a few turns since that confirmed the opinion. But I'mbeginning to perceive that you have limitations. I could sit down herenow, if there were any place to sit, and calculate how much living inthis house would be worth to me in Wall Street. "

Honora, who had been listening uneasily, knew that a shrewder or moredisturbing argument could not have been used on her husband; and it camefrom Trixton Brent--to Howard at least--ex cathedra. She was filled witha sense of shame, which was due not solely to the fact that she was alittle conscience-stricken because of her innocent complicity, nor thather husband did not resent an obvious attempt of a high-handed man tobrowbeat him; but also to the feeling that the character of thediscussion had in some strange way degraded the house itself. Why was itthat everything she touched seemed to become contaminated?

"There's no use staying any longer, " she said. "Howard doesn't like it. "

"I didn't say so, " he interrupted. "There's something about the placethat grows on you. If I felt I could afford it--"

"At any rate, " declared Honora, trying to control her voice, "I'vedecided, now I've seen it a second time, that I don't want it. I onlywished him to look at it, " she added, scornfully aware that she wastaking up the cudgels in his behalf. But she could not bring herself, inBrent's presence, to declare that the argument of the rent seemeddecisive. 

Her exasperation was somewhat increased by the expression on TrixtonBrent's face, which plainly declared that he deemed her last remarks tobe the quintessence of tactics; and he obstinately refused, as they wentdown the stairs to the street, to regard the matter as closed. 

"I'll take him down town in the Elevated, " he said, as he put her intothe carriage. "The first round's a draw. "

She directed the driver to the ferry again, and went back to Quicksands. Several times during the day she was on the point of telephoning Brentnot to try to persuade Howard to rent the house, and once she even got sofar as to take down the receiver. But when she reflected, it seemed animpossible thing to do. At four o'clock she herself was called to thetelephone by Mr. Cray, a confidential clerk in Howard's office, whoinformed her that her husband had been obliged to leave town suddenly onbusiness, and would not be home that night. 

"Didn't he say where he was going?" asked Honora. 

"He didn't even tell me, Mrs. Spence, " Cray replied, and Mr. Dallamdoesn't know. "

"Oh, dear, " said Honora, "I hope he realizes that people are coming fordinner to-morrow evening. "

"I'm positive, from what he said, that he'll be back some timeto-morrow, " Cray reassured her. 

She refused an invitation to dine out, and retired shortly after her owndinner with a novel so distracting that she gradually regained an equableframe of mind. The uneasiness, the vague fear of the future, wore away, and she slept peacefully. In the morning, however; she found on herbreakfast tray a note from Trixton Brent. 

Her first feeling after reading it was one of relief that he had notmentioned the house. He had written from a New York club, asking her tolunch with him at Delmonico's that day and drive home in the motor. Noanswer was required: if she did not appear at one o'clock, he would knowshe couldn't come. 

Honora took the eleven o'clock train, which gave her an hour after shearrived in New York to do as she pleased. Her first idea, as she stoodfor a moment amidst the clamour of the traffic in front of the ferryhouse, was to call on Mrs. Holt at that lady's hotel; and then sheremembered that the Charities Conference began at eleven, and decided topay a visit to Madame Dumond, who made a specialty of importing noveltiesin dress. Her costume for the prospective excursion in the automobile hadcost Honora some thought that morning. As the day was cool, she hadbrought along an ulster that was irreproachable. But how about the hatand veil?

Madame Dumond was enchanted. She had them both, --she had landed with themonly last week. She tried them on Honora, and stood back with her handsclasped in an ecstasy she did not attempt to hide. What a satisfaction tosell things to Mrs. Spence! Some ladies she could mention would look likefrights in them, but Madame Spence had 'de la race'. She could wearanything that was chic. The hat and veil, said Madame, with a simper, were sixty dollars. 

"Sixty dollars!" exclaimed Honora. 

"Ah, madame, what would you?" Novelties were novelties, the United StatesCustom authorities robbers. 

Having attended to these important details, Honora drove to therestaurant in her hansom cab, the blood coursing pleasantly in her veins. The autumn air sparkled, and New York was showing signs of animation. Sheglanced furtively into the little mirror at the side. Her veil was grey, and with the hat gave her somewhat the air of a religieuse, an aspectheightened by the perfect oval of her face; and something akin to areligious thrill ran through her. 

The automobile, with its brass and varnish shining in the sunlight, waswaiting a little way up the street, and the first person Honora met inthe vestibule of Delmonico's was Lula Chandos. She was, as usual, elaborately dressed, and gave one the impression of being lost, soanxiously was she scanning the face of every new arrival. 

"Oh, my dear, " she cried, staring hard at the hat and the veil, "have youseen Clara Trowbridge anywhere?"

A certain pity possessed Honora as she shook her head. 

"She was in town this morning, " continued Mrs. Chandos, "and I was sureshe was coming here to lunch. Trixy just drove up a moment ago in his newcar. Did you see it?"

Honora's pity turned into a definite contempt. 

"I saw an automobile as I came in, " she said, but the brevity of herreply seemed to have no effect upon Mrs. Chandos. 

"There he is now, at the entrance to the cafe, " she exclaimed. 

There, indeed, was Trixton Brent, staring at them from the end of thehall, and making no attempt to approach them. 

"I think I'll go into the dressing-room and leave my coat, " said Honora, outwardly calm but inwardly desperate. Fortunately, Lula made no attemptto follow her. 

"You're a dream in that veil, my dear, " Mrs. Chandos called after her. "Don't forget that we're all dining with you to-night in Quicksands. "

Once in the dressing-room, Honora felt like locking the doors and jumpingout of the window. She gave her coat to the maid, rearranged her hairwithout any apparent reason, and was leisurely putting on her hat again, and wondering what she would do next, when Mrs. Kame appeared. 

"Trixy asked me to get you, " she explained. "Mr. Grainger and I are goingto lunch with you. "

"How nice!" said Honora, with such a distinct emphasis of relief thatMrs. Kame looked at her queerly. 

"What a fool Trixy was, with all his experience, to get mixed up withthat Chandos woman, " that lady remarked as they passed through thehallway. "She's like molasses--one can never get her off. Lucky thing hefound Cecil and me here. There's your persistent friend, Trixy, " sheadded, when they were seated. "Really, this is pathetic, when aninvitation to lunch and a drive in your car would have made her sohappy. "

Honora looked around and beheld, indeed, Mrs. Chandos and two otherQuicksands women, Mrs. Randall and Mrs. Barclay, at a table in the cornerof the room. 

"Where's Bessie to-day, Cecil--or do you know?" demanded Mrs. Kame, afteran amused glance at Brent, who had not deigned to answer her. "I promisedto go to Newport with her at the end of the week, but I haven't been ableto find her. "

"Cecil doesn't know, " said Trixton Brent. "The police have been lookingfor him for a fortnight. Where the deuce have you been, Cecil?"

"To the Adirondacks, " replied Mr Grainger, gravely. 

This explanation, which seemed entirely plausible to Honora, appeared toafford great amusement to Brent, and even to Mrs. Kame. 

"When did you come to life?" demanded Brent. 

"Yesterday, " said Mr. Grainger, quite as solemnly as before. 

Mrs. Kame glanced curiously at Honora, and laughed again. 

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Trixy, " she said. 

"Why?" he asked innocently. "There's nothing wrong in going to theAdirondacks--is there, Cecil?"

"No, " said Mr. Grainger, blinking rapidly. 

"The Adirondacks, " declared Mrs. Kame, "have now become classic. "

"By the way, " observed Mr. Grainger, "I believe Bessie's in town to-dayat a charity pow-wow, reading a paper. I've half a mind to go over andlisten to it. The white dove of peace--and all that kind of thing. "

"You'd go to sleep and spoil it all, " said Brent. 

"But you can't, Cecil!" cried Mrs. Kame. "Don't you remember we're goingto Westchester to the Faunces' to spend the night and play bridge? And wepromised to arrive early. "

"That's so, by George, " said Mr. Grainger, and he drank the rest of hiswhiskey-and-soda. 

"I'll tell you what I'll do, if Mrs. Spence is willing, " suggested Brent. "If you start right after lunch, I'll take you out. We'll have plenty oftime, " he added to Honora, "to get back to Quicksands for dinner. "

"Are you sure?" she asked anxiously. "I have people for dinner tonight. "

"Oh, lots of time, " declared Mrs. Kame. "Trixy's car is some unheard-ofhorse-power. It's only twenty-five miles to the Faunces', and you'll beback at the ferry by half-past four. "

"Easily, " said Trixton Brent. 

CHAPTER X

ON THE ART OF LION TAMING

After lunch, while Mrs. Kame was telephoning to her maid and Mr. Graingerto Mrs. Faunce, Honora found herself alone with Trixton Brent in theautomobile at a moment when the Quicksands party were taking a cab. Mrs. Chandos parsed long enough to wave her hand. 

"Bon voyage!" she cried. "What an ideal party! and the chauffeur doesn'tunderstand English. If you don't turn up this evening, Honora, I'llentertain your guests. "

"We must get back, " said Honora, involuntarily to Brent. "It would be toodreadful if we didn't!"

"Are you afraid I'll run off with you?" he asked. 

"I believe you're perfectly capable of it, " she replied. "If I were wise, I'd take the train. "

"Why don't you?" he demanded. 

She smiled. 

"I don't know. It's because of your deteriorating influence, I suppose. And yet I trust you, in spite of my instincts and--my eyes. I'm seriouslyput out with you. "

"Why?"

"I'll tell you later, if you're at a loss, " she said, as Mrs. Kame andMr. Grainger appeared. 

Eight years have elapsed since that day and this writing--an aeon in thisrapidly moving Republic of ours. The roads, although far from perfectyet, were not then what they have since become. But the weather was dryand the voyage to Westchester accomplished successfully. It was half-pastthree when they drove up the avenue and deposited Mrs. Kame and CecilGrainger at the long front of the Faunce house: and Brent, who had beendriving, relinquished the wheel to the chauffeur and joined Honora in thetonneau. The day was perfect, the woods still heavy with summer foliage, and the only signs of autumn were the hay mounds and the yellowingcornstalks stacked amidst the stubble of the fields. 

Brent sat silently watching her, for she had raised her veil in sayinggood-by to Mrs. Kame, and--as the chauffeur was proceeding slowly--hadnot lowered it. Suddenly she turned and looked him full in the face. 

"What kind of woman do you think I am?" she demanded. 

"That's rather a big order, isn't it?" he said. 

"I'm perfectly serious, " continued Honora, slowly. 

"I'd really like to know. "

"Before I begin on the somewhat lengthy list of your qualities, " hereplied, smiling, "may I ask why you'd like to know?"

"Yes, " she said quickly. "I'd like to know because I think you'vemisjudged me. I was really more angry than you have any idea of at themanner in which you talked to Howard. And did you seriously suppose thatI was in earnest when we spoke about your assistance in persuading him totake the house?"

He laughed. 

"You are either the cleverest woman in the world, " he declared, "or elseyou oughtn't to be out without a guardian. And no judge in possession ofhis five senses would appoint your husband. "

Indignant as she was, she could not resist smiling. There was somethingin the way Brent made such remarks that fascinated her. 

"I shouldn't call you precisely eligible, either, " she retorted. 

He laughed again. But his eyes made her vaguely uneasy. 

"Are these harsh words the reward for my charity? he asked. 

"I'm by no means sure it's charity, " she said. "That's what is troublingme. And you have no right to say such things about my husband. "

"How was I to know you were sensitive on the subject? he replied. 

"I wonder what it would be like to be so utterly cynical as you, " shesaid. 

"Do you mean to say you don't want the house?"

"I don't want it under those conditions, " she answered with spirit. "Ididn't expect to be taken literally. And you've always insisted, " sheadded, "in ascribing to me motives that--that never occurred to me. Youmake the mistake of thinking that because you have no ideals, otherpeople haven't. I hope Howard hasn't said he'd take the house. He's goneoff somewhere, and I haven't been able to see him. "

Trixton Brent looked at her queerly. 

"After that last manoeuvre of yours, " he said, "it was all I could do toprevent him from rushing over to Jerry Shorter's--and signing the lease. "

She did not reply. 

"What do these sudden, virtuous resolutions mean?" he asked. "Resignation?Quicksands for life? Abandonment of the whole campaign?"

"There isn't any I campaign, " she said--and her voice caught in somethinglike a sob. "I'm not that sordid kind of a person. And if I don't likeQuicksands, it's because the whole atmosphere seems to be charged with--with just such a spirit. "

Her hand was lying on the seat. He covered it with his own so quicklythat she left it there for a moment, as though paralyzed, while shelistened to the first serious words he had ever addressed to her. 

"Honora, I admire you more than any woman I have ever known, " he said. 

Her breath came quickly, and she drew her hand away. 

"I suppose I ought to feel complimented, " she replied. 

At this crucial instant what had been a gliding flight of the automobilebecame, suddenly, a more or less uneven and jerky progress, accompaniedby violent explosions. At the first of these Honora, in alarm, leaped toher feet. And the machine, after what seemed an heroic attempt tocontinue, came to a dead stop. They were on the outskirts of a village;children coming home from school surrounded them in a ring. Brent jumpedout, the chauffeur opened the hood, and they peered together into whatwas, to Honora, an inexplicable tangle of machinery. There followed acolloquy, in technical French, between the master and the man. 

"What's the matter?" asked Honora, anxiously. 

"Nothing much, " said Brent, "spark-plugs. We'll fix it up in a fewminutes. " He looked with some annoyance at the gathering crowd. "Standback a little, can't you?" he cried, "and give us room. "

After some minutes spent in wiping greasy pieces of steel which thechauffeur extracted, and subsequent ceaseless grinding on the crank, theengine started again, not without a series of protesting cracks likepistol shots. The chauffeur and Brent leaped in, the bystanders partedwith derisive cheers, and away they went through the village, only toannounce by another series of explosions a second disaster at the otherend of the street. A crowd collected there, too. 

"Oh, dear!" said Honora, "don't you think we ought to take the train, Mr. Brent? If I were to miss a dinner at my own house, it would be tooterrible!"

"There's nothing to worry about, " he assured her. "Nothing broken. It'sonly the igniting system that needs adjustment. "

Although this was so much Greek to Honora, she was reassured. TrixtonBrent inspired confidence. There was another argument with the chauffeur, a little more animated than the first; more greasy plugs taken out andwiped, and a sharper exchange of compliments with the crowd; moregrinding, until the chauffeur's face was steeped in perspiration, andmore pistol shots. They were off again, but lamely, spurting a little attimes, and again slowing down to the pace of an ox-cart. Their progressbecame a series of illustrations of the fable of the hare and thetortoise. They passed horses, and the horses shied into the ditch: thenthe same horses passed them, usually at the periods chosen by the demonunder the hood to fire its pistol shots, and into the ditch went thehorses once more, their owners expressing their thoughts in language atonce vivid and unrestrained. 

It is one of the blessed compensations of life that in times ofprosperity we do not remember our miseries. In these enlightened days, when everybody owns an automobile and calmly travels from Chicago toBoston if he chooses, we have forgotten the dark ages when these machineswere possessed by devils: when it took sometimes as much as three hoursto go twenty miles, and often longer than that. How many of us have hadthe same experience as Honora!

She was always going to take the train, and didn't. Whenever her mind wasirrevocably made up, the automobile whirled away on all four cylindersfor a half a mile or so, until they were out of reach of the railroad. There were trolley cars, to be sure, but those took forever to getanywhere. Four o'clock struck, five and six, when at last the fiend whohad conspired with fate, having accomplished his evident purpose ofcompelling Honora to miss her dinner, finally abandoned them as suddenlyand mysteriously as he had come, and the automobile was a lamb once more. It was half-past six, and the sun had set, before they saw the lightstwinkling all yellow on the heights of Fort George. At that hour the lasttrain they could have taken to reach the dinner-party in time was leavingthe New York side of the ferry. 

"What will they think?" cried Honora. "They saw us leave Delmonico's attwo o'clock, and they didn't know we were going to Westchester. "

It needed no very vivid imagination to summon up the probable remarks ofMrs. Chandos on the affair. It was all very well to say the motor brokedown; but unfortunately Trixton Brent's reputation was not much betterthan that of his car. 

Trixton Brent, as might have been expected, was inclined to treat thematter as a joke. 

"There's nothing very formal about a Quicksands dinner-party, " he said. "We'll have a cosey little dinner in town, and call 'em up on thetelephone. "

She herself was surprised at the spirit of recklessness stealing overher, for there was, after all, a certain appealing glamour in theadventure. She was thrilled by the swift, gliding motion of theautomobile, the weird and unfamiliar character of these upper reaches ofa great city in the twilight, where new houses stood alone or m rows onwide levelled tracts; and old houses, once in the country, were seen highabove the roadway behind crumbling fences, surrounded by gloomy old treeswith rotting branches. She stole a glance at the man close beside her; adelightful fear of him made her shiver, and she shrank closer into thecorner of the seat. 

"Honora!"

All at once he had seized her hand again, and held it in spite of herefforts to release it. 

"Honora, " he said, "I love you as I have never loved in my life. As Inever shall love again. "

"Oh--you mustn't say that!" she cried. 

"Why not?" he demanded. "Why not, if I feel it?"

"Because, " faltered Honora, "because I can't listen to you. "

Brent made a motion of disdain with his free hand. 

"I don't pretend that it's right, " he said. "I'm not a hypocrite, anyway, thank God! It's undoubtedly wrong, according to all moral codes. I'venever paid any attention to them. You're married. I'm happy to say I'mdivorced. You've got a husband. I won't be guilty of the bad taste ofdiscussing him. He's a good fellow enough, but he never thinks about youfrom the time the Exchange opens in the morning until he gets home atnight and wants his dinner. You don't love him--it would be a miracle ifa woman with any spirit did. He hasn't any more of an idea of what hepossesses by legal right than the man I discovered driving in a cart oneof the best hunters I ever had in my stables. To say that he doesn'tappreciate you is a ludicrous understatement. Any woman would have donefor him. "

"Please don't!" she implored him. "Please don't!"

But for the moment she knew that she was powerless, carried along like achip on the crest of his passion. 

"I don't pretend to say how it is, or why it is, " he went on, paying noheed to her protests. "I suppose there's one woman for every man in theworld--though I didn't use to think so. I always had another idea ofwoman before I met you. I've thought I was in love with 'em, but now Iunderstand it was only--something else. I say, I don't know what it is inyou that makes me feel differently. I can't analyze it, and I don't wantto. You're not perfect, by a good deal, and God knows I'm not. You'reambitious, but if you weren't, you'd be humdrum--yet there's no pitifulartifice in you as in other women that any idiot can see through. And itwould have paralyzed forever any ordinary woman to have married HowardSpence. "

A new method of wooing, surely, and evidently peculiar to Trixton Brent. Honora, in the prey of emotions which he had aroused in spite of her, needless to say did not, at that moment, perceive the humour in it. Hiswords gave her food for thought for many months afterwards. 

The lion was indeed aroused at last, and whip or goad or wile of noavail. There came a time when she no longer knew what he was saying: whenspeech, though eloquent and forceful, seemed a useless medium. Herappeals were lost, and she found herself fighting in his arms, whensuddenly they turned into one of the crowded arteries of Harlem. She madea supreme effort of will, and he released her. 

"Oh!" she cried, trembling. 

But he looked at her, unrepentant, with the light of triumph in his eyes. 

"I'll never forgive you!" she exclaimed, breathless. 

"I gloried in it, " he replied. "I shall remember it as long as I live, and I'll do it again. "

She did not answer him. She dropped her veil, and for a long space wassilent while they rapidly threaded the traffic, and at length turned intoupper Fifth Avenue, skirting the Park. She did not so much as glance athim. But he seemed content to watch her veiled profile in the dusk. 

Her breath, in the first tumult of her thought, came and went deeply. Butgradually as the street lights burned brighter and familiar sights beganto appear, she grew more controlled and became capable of reflection. Sheremembered that there was a train for Quicksands at seven-fifteen, whichHoward had taken once or twice. But she felt that the interval was tooshort. In that brief period she could not calm herself sufficiently toface her guests. Indeed, the notion of appearing alone, or with Brent, atthat dinner-party, appalled her. And suddenly an idea presented itself. 

Brent leaned over, and began to direct the chauffeur to a well-knownhotel. She interrupted him. 

"No, " she said, "I'd rather go to the Holland House. "

"Very well, " he said amicably, not a little surprised at thisunlooked-for acquiescence, and then told his man to keep straight on downthe Avenue. 

She began mechanically to rearrange her hat and veil; and after that, sitting upright, to watch the cross streets with feverish anticipation, her hands in her lap. 

"Honora?" he said. 

She did not answer. 

"Raise the veil, just for a moment, and look at me. "

She shook her head. But for some reason, best known to herself, shesmiled a little. Perhaps it was because her indignation, which would havefrightened many men into repentance, left this one undismayed. At anyrate, he caught the gleam of the smile through the film of her veil, andlaughed. 

"We'll have a little table in the corner of the room, " he declared, "andyou shall order the dinner. Here we are, " he cried to the chauffeur. "Pull up to the right. "

They alighted, crossed the sidewalk, the doors were flung open to receivethem, and they entered the hotel. 

Through the entrance to the restaurant Honora caught sight of the redglow of candles upon the white tables, and heard the hum of voices. Inthe hall, people were talking and laughing in groups, and it came as adistinct surprise to her that their arrival seemed to occasion no remark. At the moment of getting out of the automobile, her courage had almostfailed her. 

Trixton Brent hailed one of the hotel servants. 

"Show Mrs. Spence to the ladies' parlour, " said he. And added to Honora, "I'll get a table, and have the dinner card brought up in a few moments. "

Honora stopped the boy at the elevator door. 

"Go to the office, " she said, "and find out if Mrs. Joshua Holt is in, and the number of her room. And take me to the telephone booths. I'llwait there. "

She asked the telephone operator to call up Mr. Spence's house atQuicksands--and waited. 

"I'm sorry, madam, " he said, after a little while, which seemed like halfan hour to Honora, "but they've had a fire in the Kingston exchange, andthe Quicksands line is out of order. "

Honora's heart sank; but the bell-boy had reappeared. Yes, Mrs. Holt wasin. 

"Take me to her room, " she said, and followed him into the elevator. 

In response to his knock the door was opened by Mrs. Holt herself. Shewore a dove-coloured gown, and in her hand was a copy of the report ofthe Board of Missions. For a moment she peered at Honora over the glasseslightly poised on the uncertain rim of her nose. 

"Why--my dear!" she exclaimed, in astonishment. Honora!"

"Oh, " cried Honora, "I'm so glad you're here. I was so afraid you'd beout. "

In the embrace that followed both the glasses and the mission report fellto the floor. Honora picked them up. 

"Sit down, my dear, and tell me how you happen to be here, " said Mrs. Holt. "I suppose Howard is downstairs. "

"No, he isn't, " said Honora, rather breathlessly; "that's the reason Icame here. That's one reason, I mean. I was coming to see you thismorning, but I simply didn't have time for a call after I got to town. "

Mrs. Holt settled herself in the middle of the sofa, the only piece offurniture in the room in harmony with her ample proportions. Her attitudeand posture were both judicial, and justice itself spoke in herdelft-blue eyes. 

"Tell me all about it, " she said, thus revealing her suspicions thatthere was something to tell. 

"I was just going to, " said Honora, hastily, thinking of Trixton Brentwaiting in the ladies' parlour. "I took lunch at Delmomico's with Mr. Grainger, and Mr. Brent, and Mrs. Kame--"

"Cecil Grainger?" demanded Mrs. Holt. 

Honora trembled. 

"Yes, " she said. 

"I knew his father and mother intimately, " said Mrs. Holt, unexpectedly. "And his wife is a friend of mine. She's one of the most executive womenwe have in the 'Working Girls' Association, ' and she read a paper todaythat was masterful. You know her, of course. "

"No, " said Honora, "I haven't met her yet. "

"Then how did you happen to be lunching with her husband?

"I wasn't lunching with him, Mrs. Holt, " said Honora; "Mr. Brent wasgiving the lunch. "

"Who's Mr. Brent?" demanded Mrs. Holt. "One of those Quicksands people?"

"He's not exactly a Quicksands person. I scarcely know how to describehim. He's very rich, and goes abroad a great deal, and plays polo. That'sthe reason he has a little place at Quicksands. He's been awfully kindboth to Howard and me, " she added with inspiration. 

"And Mrs. Kame?" said Mrs. Holt. 

"She's a widow, and has a place at Banbury. 

"I never heard of her, " said Mrs. Holt, and Honora thanked her stars. 

"And Howard approves of these mixed lunches, my dear? When I was young, husbands and wives usually went to parties together. "

A panicky thought came to Honora, that Mrs. Holt might suddenly inquireas to the whereabouts of Mr. Brent's wife. 

"Oh, Howard doesn't mind, " she said hastily. "I suppose times havechanged, Mrs. Holt. And after lunch we all went out in Mr. Brent'sautomobile to the Faunces' in Westchester--"

"The Paul Jones Faunces?" Mrs. Holt interrupted. 

"What a nice woman that young Mrs. Faunce is! She was Kitty Esterbrook, you know. Both of them very old families. "

"It was only, " continued Honora, in desperation, "it was only to leaveMr. Grainger and Mrs. Kame there to spend the night. They all said we hadplenty of time to go and get back to Quicksands by six o'clock. Butcoming back the automobile broke down--"

"Of course, " said Mrs. Holt, "it serves any one right for trusting tothem. I think they are an invention of the devil. "

"And we've only just got back to New York this minute. "

"Who?" inquired Mrs. Holt. 

"Mr. Brent and I, " said Honora, with downcast eyes. 

"Good gracious!" exclaimed the elder lady. 

"I couldn't think of anything else to do but come straight here to you, "said Honora, gazing at her friend. "And oh, I'm so glad to find you. There's not another train to Quicksands till after nine. "

"You did quite right, my dear, under the circumstances. I don't say youhaven't been foolish, but it's Howard's fault quite as much as yours. Hehas no business to let you do such things. "

"And what makes it worse, " said Honora, "is that the wires are down toQuicksands, and I can't telephone Howard, and we have people to dinner, and they don't know I went to Westchester, and there's no usetelegraphing: it wouldn't be delivered till midnight or morning. "

"There, there, my dear, don't worry. I know how anxious you feel on yourhusband's account--"

"Oh--Mrs. Holt, I was going to ask you a great, great favour. Wouldn'tyou go down to Quicksands with me and spend the night--and pay us alittle visit? You know we would so love to have you!"

"Of course I'll go down with you, my dear, " said Mrs. Holt. "I'msurprised that you should think for an instant that I wouldn't. It's myobvious duty. Martha!" she called, "Martha!"

The door of the bedroom opened, and Mrs. Holt's elderly maid appeared. The same maid, by the way, who had closed the shutters that memorablestormy night at Silverdale. She had, it seemed, a trick of appearing atcrises. 

"Martha, telephone to Mrs. Edgerly--you know her number-and say that I amvery sorry, but an unexpected duty calls me out of town to-night, and askher to communicate with the Reverend Mr. Field. As for staying with you, Honora, " she continued, "I have to be back at Silverdale to-morrow night. Perhaps you and Howard will come back with me. My frank opinion is, thata rest from the gayety of Quicksands will do you good. "

"I will come, with pleasure, " said Honora. "But as for Howard--I'm afraidhe's too busy. "

"And how about dinner?" asked Mrs. Holt. 

"I forgot to say, " said Honora, that Mr. Brent's downstairs. He broughtme here, of course. Have you any objection to his dining with us?"

"No, " answered Mrs. Holt, "I think I should like to see him. "

After Mrs. Holt had given instructions to her maid to pack, and Honorahad brushed some of the dust of the roads from her costume, theydescended to the ladies' parlour. At the far end of it a waiter holding acard was standing respectfully, and Trixton Brent was pacing up and downbetween the windows. When he caught sight of them he stopped in histracks, and stared, and stood as if rooted to the carpet. Honora cameforward. 

"Oh, Mr. Brent!" she cried, "my old friend, Mrs. Holt, is here, and she'sgoing to take dinner with us and come down to Quicksands for the night. May I introduce Mr. Brent. "

"Wasn't it fortunate, Mr. Brent, that Mrs. Spence happened to find me?"said Mrs. Holt, as she took his hand. "I know it is a relief to you. "

It was not often, indeed, that Trixton Brent was taken off his guard; butsome allowance must be made for him, since he was facing a situationunparalleled in his previous experience. Virtue had not often been sotriumphant, and never so dramatic as to produce at the critical instantso emblematic a defender as this matronly lady in dove colour. For amoment, he stared at her, speechless, and then he gathered himselftogether. 

"A relief?" he asked. 

"It would seem so to me, " said Mrs. Holt. "Not that I do not think youare perfectly capable of taking care of her, as an intimate friend of herhusband. I was merely thinking of the proprieties. And as I am a guest inthis hotel, I expect you both to do me the honour to dine with me beforewe start for Quicksands. "

After all, Trixton Brent had a sense of humour, although it must not beexpected that he should grasp at once all the elements of a joke onhimself so colossal. 

"I, for one, " he said, with a slight bow which gave to his words a touchsomewhat elaborate, "will be delighted. " And he shot at Honora a glancecompounded of many feelings, which she returned smilingly. 

"Is that the waiter?" asked Mrs. Holt. 

"That is a waiter, " said Trixton Brent, glancing at the motionlessfigure. "Shall I call him?"

"If you please, " said Mrs. Holt. "Honora, you must tell me what youlike. "

"Anything, Mrs. Holt, " said Honora. 

"If we are to leave a little after nine, " said that lady, balancing herglasses on her nose and glancing at the card, "we have not, I'm afraid, time for many courses. "

The head waiter greeted them at the door of the dining-room. He, too, wasa man of wisdom and experience. He knew Mrs. Holt, and he knew TrixtonBrent. If gravity had not been a life-long habit with him, one might havesuspected him of a desire to laugh. As it was, he seemed palpablyembarrassed, --for Mr. Brent had evidently been conversing with him. 

"Two, sir?" he asked. 

"Three, " said Mrs. Holt, with dignity. 

The head waiter planted them conspicuously in the centre of the room; oneof the strangest parties, from the point of view of a connoisseur of NewYork, that ever sat down together. Mrs. Holt with her curls, and herglasses laid flat on the bosom of her dove-coloured dress; Honora in acostume dedicated to the very latest of the sports, and Trixton Brent inEnglish tweeds. The dining-room was full. But here and there amongst thediners, Honora observed, were elderly people who smiled discreetly asthey glanced in their direction--friends, perhaps, of Mrs. Holt. Andsuddenly, in one corner, she perceived a table of six where the mirth wasless restrained. 

Fortunately for Mr. Brent, he had had a cocktail, or perhaps two, inHonora's absence. Sufficient time had elapsed since their administrationfor their proper soothing and exhilarating effects. At the sound of thelaughter in the corner he turned his head, a signal for renewed merrimentfrom that quarter. Whereupon he turned back again and faced his hostessonce more with a heroism that compelled Honora's admiration. As asportsman, he had no intention of shirking the bitterness of defeat. 

"Mrs. Grainger and Mrs. Shorter, " he remarked, "appear to be enjoyingthemselves. "

Honora felt her face grow hot as the merriment at the corner table roseto a height it had not heretofore attained. And she did not dare to lookagain. 

Mrs. Holt was blissfully oblivious to her surroundings. She was, asusual, extremely composed, and improved the interval, while drinking hersoup, with a more or less undisguised observation of Mr. Brent; evidentlyregarding him somewhat in the manner that a suspicious householder wouldlook upon a strange gentleman whom he accidentally found in his fronthall. Explanations were necessary. That Mr. Brent's appearance, on thewhole, was in his favour did not serve to mitigate her suspicions. Good-looking men were apt to be unscrupulous. 

"Are you interested in working girls, Mr. Brent?" she inquired presently. 

Honora, in spite of her discomfort, had an insane desire to giggle. Shedid not dare to raise her eyes. 

"I can't say that I've had much experience with them, Mrs. Holt, " hereplied, with a gravity little short of sublime. 

"Naturally you wouldn't have had, " said Mrs. Holt. "What I meant was, areyou interested in the problems they have to face?"

"Extremely, " said he, so unexpectedly that Honora choked. "I can't saythat I've given as many hours as I should have liked to a study of thesubject, but I don't know of any class that has a harder time. As a rule, they're underpaid and overworked, and when night comes they are eithertired to death or bored to death, and the good-looking ones are subjectto temptations which some of them find impossible to resist, in a naturaldesire for some excitement to vary the routine of their lives. "

"It seems to me, " said Mrs. Holt, "that you are fairly conversant withthe subject. I don't think I ever heard the problem stated so succinctlyand so well. Perhaps, " she added, "it might interest you to attend one ofour meetings next month. Indeed, you might be willing to say a fewwords. "

"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me, Mrs. Holt. I'm a rather busy man, and nothing of a public speaker, and it is rarely I get off in thedaytime. "

"How about automobiling?" asked Mrs. Holt, with a smile. 

"Well, " said Trixton Brent, laughing in spite of himself, "I like theworking girls, I have to have a little excitement occasionally. And Ifind it easier to get off in the summer than in the winter. "

"Men cover a multitude of sins under the plea of business, " said Mrs. Holt, shaking her head. I can't say I think much of your method ofdistraction. Why any one desires to get into an automobile, I don't see. "

"Have you ever been in one?" he asked. "Mine is here, and I was about toinvite you to go down to the ferry in it. I'll promise to go slow. "

"Well, " said Mrs. Holt, "I don't object to going that distance, if youkeep your promise. I'll admit that I've always had a curiosity. "

"And in return, " said Brent, gallantly, "allow me to send you a chequefor your working girls. "

"You're very good, " said Mrs. Holt. 

"Oh, " he protested, I'm not in the habit of giving much to charities, I'msorry to say. I'd like to know how it feels. "

"Then I hope the sensation will induce you to try it again, " said Mrs. Holt. 

"Nobody, Mrs. Holt, " cried Honora, "could be kinder to his friends thanMr. Brent!"

"We were speaking of disinterested kindness, my dear, " was Mrs. Holt'sreply. 

"You're quite right, Mrs. Holt, " said Trixton Brent, beginning, as thedinner progressed, to take in the lady opposite a delight that surprisedhim. "I'm willing to confess that I've led an extremely selfishexistence. "

"The confession isn't necessary, " she replied. "It's written all overyou. You're the type of successful man who gets what he wants. I don'tmean to say that you are incapable of kindly instincts. " And her eyetwinkled a little. 

"I'm very grateful for that concession, at any rate, " he declared. 

"There might be some hope for you if you fell into the hands of a goodwoman, " said Mrs. Holt. "I take it you are a bachelor. Mark my words, thelonger you remain one, the more steeped in selfishness you are likely tobecome in this modern and complex and sense-satisfying life which so manypeople lead. "

Honora trembled for what he might say to this, remembering his bitterreferences of that afternoon to his own matrimonial experience. Visionsof a scene arose before her in the event that Mrs. Holt should discoverhis status. But evidently Trixton Brent had no intention of discussinghis marriage. 

"Judging by some of my married friends and acquaintances, " he said, "Ihave no desire to try matrimony as a remedy for unselfishness. "

"Then, " replied Mrs. Holt, "all I can say is, I should make new friendsamongst another kind of people, if I were you. You are quite right, andif I were seeking examples of happy marriages, I should not begin mysearch among the so-called fashionable set of the present day. They areso supremely selfish that if the least difference in taste develops, orif another man or woman chances along whom they momentarily fancy morethan their own husbands or wives, they get a divorce. Their idea ofmarriage is not a mutual sacrifice which brings happiness through trialsborne together and through the making of character. No, they have anotion that man and wife may continue to lead their individual lives. That isn't marriage. I've lived with Joshua Holt thirty-five years lastApril, and I haven't pleased myself in all that time. "

"All men, " said Trixton Brent, "are not so fortunate as Mr. Holt. "

Honora began to have the sensations of a witness to a debate betweenMephistopheles and the powers of heaven. Her head swam. But Mrs. Holt, who had unlooked-for flashes of humour, laughed, and shook her curls atBrent. 

"I should like to lecture you some time, " she said; "I think it would doyou good. "

He shook his head. 

"I'm beyond redemption. Don't you think so, Honora?" he asked, with anunexpected return of his audacity. 

"I'm afraid I'm not worthy to judge you, " she replied, and coloured. 

"Stuff and nonsense, " said Mrs. Holt; "women are superior to men, andit's our duty to keep them in order. And if we're really going to riskour lives in your automobile, Mr. Brent, you'd better make sure it'sthere, " she added, glancing at her watch. 

Having dined together in an apparent and inexplicable amity, their exitwas of even more interest to the table in the corner than their entrancehad been. Mrs. Holt's elderly maid was waiting in the hall, Mrs. Holt'slittle trunk was strapped on the rear of the car; and the lady herself, with something of the feelings of a missionary embarking for the wilds ofAfrica, was assisted up the little step and through the narrow entranceof the tonneau by the combined efforts of Honora and Brent. An expressionof resolution, emblematic of a determination to die, if necessary, in theperformance of duty, was on her face as the machinery started; and herbreath was not quite normal when, in an incredibly brief period, theydescended at the ferry. 

The journey to Quicksands was accomplished in a good fellowship whichHonora, an hour before, would not have dreamed of. Even Mrs. Holt was notwholly proof against the charms of Trixton Brent when he chose to exerthimself; and for some reason he did so choose. As they stood in thestarlight on the platform of the deserted little station while he wentacross to Whelen's livery stable to get a carriage, Mrs. Holt remarked toHonora:

"Mr. Brent is a fascinating man, my dear. "

"I am so glad that you appreciate him, " exclaimed Honora. 

"And a most dangerous one, " continued Mrs. Holt. "He has probably, in hisday, disturbed the peace of mind of a great many young women. Not that Ihaven't the highest confidence in you, Honora, but honesty forces me toconfess that you are young and pleasure-loving, and a little heedless. And the atmosphere in which you live is not likely to correct thosetendencies. If you will take my advice, you will not see too much of Mr. Trixton Brent when your husband is not present. "

Indeed, as to the probable effect of this incident on the relationsbetween Mr. Brent and herself Honora was wholly in the dark. Although, from her point of view, what she had done had been amply justified by theplea of self-defence, it could not be expected that he would accept it inthe same spirit. The apparent pleasure he had taken in the presentsituation, once his amazement had been overcome, profoundly puzzled her. 

He returned in a few minutes with the carriage and driver, and theystarted off. Brent sat in front, and Honora explained to Mrs. Holt theappearance of the various places by daylight, and the names of theirowners. The elderly lady looked with considerable interest at the blazinglights of the Club, with the same sensations she would no doubt have hadif she had been suddenly set down within the Moulin Rouge. Shortlyafterwards they turned in at the gate of "The Brackens. " The lightstreamed across the porch and driveway, and the sound of music floatedout of the open windows. Within, the figure of Mrs. Barclay could beseen; she was singing vaudeville songs at the piano. Mrs. Holt's lipswere tightly shut as she descended and made her way up the steps. 

"I hope you'll come in, ", said Honora to Trixton Brent, in a low voice. 

"Come in!" he replied, "I wouldn't miss it for ten thousand dollars. "

Mrs. Holt was the first of the three to appear at the door of thedrawing-room, and Mrs. Barclay caught sight of her, and stopped in themiddle of a bar, with her mouth open. Some of the guests had left. Atable in the corner, where Lula Chandos had insisted on playing bridge, was covered with scattered cards and some bills, a decanter of whiskey, two soda bottles, and two glasses. The blue curling smoke from Mrs. Chandos' cigarette mingled with the haze that hung between the ceilingand the floor, and that lady was in the act of saying cheerfully toHoward, who sat opposite, --"Trixy's run off with her. "

Suddenly the chill of silence pervaded the room. Lula Chandos, whose backwas turned to the door, looked from Mrs. Barclay to Howard, who, with theother men had risen to his feet. 

"What's the matter?" she said in a frightened tone. And, following theeyes of the others, turned her head slowly towards the doorway. 

Mrs. Holt, who filled it, had been literally incapable of speech. Closebehind her stood Honora and Trixton whose face was inscrutable. 

"Howard, " said Honora, summoning all the courage that remained in her, "here's Mrs. Holt. We dined with her, and she was good enough to comedown for the night. I'm so sorry not to have been here, " she added to herguests, "but we went to Westchester with Mrs. Kame and Mr. Grainger, andthe automobile broke down on the way back. "

Mrs. Holt made no attempt to enter, but stared fixedly at the cigarettethat Mrs. Chandos still held in her trembling fingers. Howard crossed theroom in the midst of an intense silence. 

"Glad to see you, Mrs. Holt, " he said. "Er--won't you come in and--andsit down?"

"Thank you, Howard" she replied, "I do not wish to interrupt your party. It is my usual hour for retiring. 

"And I think, my dear, " she added, turning to Honora, "that I'll ask youto excuse me, and show me to my room. "

"Certainly, Mrs. Holt, " said Honora, breathlessly. 

"Howard, ring the bell. "

She led the way up the stairs to the guest-chamber with the rose paperand the little balcony. As she closed the door gusts of laughter reachedthem from the floor below, and she could plainly distinguish the voicesof May Barclay and Trixton Brent. 

"I hope you'll be comfortable, Mrs. Holt, " she said. "Your maid will bein the little room across the hall and I believe you like breakfast ateight. "

"You mustn't let me keep you from your guests, Honora. "

"Oh, Mrs. Holt, " she said, on the verge of tears, "I don't want to go tothem. Really, I don't. "

"It must be confessed, " said Mrs. Holt, opening her handbag and takingout the copy of the mission report, which had been carefully folded, "that they seem to be able to get along very well without you. I supposeI am too old to understand this modern way of living. How well I rememberone night--it was in 1886--I missed the train to Silverdale, and mytelegram miscarried. Poor Mr. Holt was nearly out of his head. "

She fumbled for her glasses and dropped them. Honora picked them up, andit was then she perceived that the tears were raining down the goodlady's cheeks. At the same moment they sprang into Honora's eyes, andblinded her. Mrs. Holt looked at her long and earnestly. 

"Go down, my dear, " she said gently, "you must not neglect your friends. They will wonder where you are. And at what time do you breakfast?"

"At--at any time you like. "

"I shall be down at eight, " said Mrs. Holt, and she kissed her. 

Honora, closing the door, stood motionless in the hall, and presently thefootsteps and the laughter and the sound of carriage wheels on the graveldied away. 

CHAPTER XI

CONTAINING SOME REVELATIONS

Honora, as she descended, caught a glimpse of the parlour maid picking upthe scattered cards on the drawing-room floor. There were voices on theporch, where Howard was saying good-by to Mrs. Chandos and Trixton Brent. She joined them. 

"Oh, my dear!" cried Mrs. Chandos, interrupting Honora's apologies, "I'msure I shan't sleep a wink--she gave me such a fright. You might havesent Trixy ahead to prepare us. When I first caught sight of her, Ithought it was my own dear mother who had come all the way fromCleveland, and the cigarette burned my fingers. But I must say I think itwas awfully clever of you to get hold of her and save Trixy's reputation. Good night, dear. "

And she got into her carriage. 

"Give my love to Mrs. Holt, " said Brent, as he took Honora's hand, "andtell her I feel hurt that she neglected to say good night to me. Ithought I had made an impression. Tell her I'll send her a cheque for herrescue work. She inspires me with confidence. "

Howard laughed. 

"I'll see you to-morrow, Brent, " he called out as they drove away. Thoughalways assertive, it seemed to Honora that her husband had an increasedair of importance as he turned to her now with his hands in his pockets. He looked at her for a moment, and laughed again. He, too, had apparentlyseen the incident only in a humorous light. "Well, Honora, " he remarked, "you have a sort of a P. T. Barnum way of doing things once in awhile--haven't you? Is the old lady really tucked away for the night, oris she coming down to read us a sermon? And how the deuce did you happento pick her up?"

She had come downstairs with confession on her lips, and in the agitationof her mind had scarcely heeded Brent's words or Mrs. Chandos'. She hadcome down prepared for any attitude but the one in which she found him;for anger, reproaches, arraignments. Nay, she was surprised to find nowthat she had actually hoped for these. She deserved to be scolded: it washer right. If he had been all of a man, he would have called her toaccount. There must be--there was something lacking in his character. Andit came to her suddenly, with all the shock of a great contrast, withwhat different eyes she had looked upon him five years before atSilverdale. 

He went into the house and started to enter the drawing-room, still indisorder and reeking with smoke. 

"No, not in there!" she cried sharply. 

He turned to her puzzled. Her breath was coming and going quickly. Shecrossed the hall and turned on the light in the little parlour there, andhe followed her. 

"Don't you feel well?" he asked. 

"Howard, " she said, "weren't you worried?"

"Worried? No, why should I have been? Lula Chandos and May Barclay hadseen you in the automobile in town, and I knew you were high and drysomewhere. "

"High and dry, " she repeated. What?"

"Nothing. They said I had run off with Mr. Brent, didn't they?"

He laughed. 

"Yes, there was some joking to that effect. "

"You didn't take it seriously?

"No--why should I?"

She was appalled by his lack of knowledge of her. All these years she hadlived with him, and he had not grasped even the elements of her nature. And this was marriage! Trixton Brent--short as their acquaintance hadbeen--had some conception of her character and possibilities her husbandnone. Where was she to begin? How was she to tell him the episode in theautomobile in order that he might perceive something of its sinistersignificance?

Where was she to go to be saved from herself, if not to him?

"I might have run away with him, if I had loved him, " she said after apause. "Would you have cared?"

"You bet your life, " said Howard, and put his arm around her. 

She looked up into his face. So intent had she been on what she had meantto tell him that she did not until now perceive he was preoccupied, andonly half listening to what she was saying. 

"You bet your life, " he said, patting her shoulder. "What would I havedone, all alone, in the new house?"

"In the new house?" she cried. "Oh, Howard--you haven't taken it!"

"I haven't signed the lease, " he replied importantly, smiling down ather, and thrusting his hands in his pockets. 

"I don't want it, " said Honora; "I don't want it. I told you that I'ddecided I didn't want it when we were there. Oh, Howard, why did you takeit?"

He whistled. He had the maddening air of one who derives amusement fromthe tantrums of a spoiled child. 

"Well, " he remarked, "women are too many for me. If there's any way ofpleasing 'em I haven't yet discovered it. The night before last you hadto have the house. Nothing else would do. It was the greatest find in NewYork. For the first time in months you get up for breakfast--a prettysure sign you hadn't changed your mind. You drag me to see it, and whenyou land me there, because I don't lose my head immediately, you say youdon't want it. Of course I didn't take you seriously--I thought you'd setyour heart on it, so I wired an offer to Shorter to-day, and he acceptedit. And when I hand you this pleasant little surprise, you go right up inthe air. "

He had no air of vexation, however, as he delivered this somewhatreproachful harangue in the picturesque language to which he commonlyresorted. Quite the contrary. He was still smiling, as Santa Claus mustsmile when he knows he has another pack up the chimney. 

"Why this sudden change of mind?" he demanded. "It can't be because youwant to spend the winter in Quicksands. "

She was indeed at a loss what to say. She could not bring herself to askhim whether he had been influenced by Trixton Brent. If he had, she toldherself, she did not wish to know. He was her husband, after all, and itwould be too humiliating. And then he had taken the house. 

"Have you hit on a palace you like better?" he inquired, with a clumsyattempt at banter. "They tell me the elder Maitlands are going abroad--perhaps we could get their house on the Park. "

"You said you couldn't afford Mrs. Rindge's house, " she answereduneasily, "and I--I believed you. "

"I couldn't, " he said mysteriously, and paused. 

It seemed to her, as she recalled the scene afterwards, that in thispause he gave the impression of physically swelling. She rememberedstaring at him with wide, frightened eyes and parted lips. 

"I couldn't, " he repeated, with the same strange emphasis and a palpableattempt at complacency. "But--er--circumstances have changed since then. "

"What do you mean, Howard?" she whispered. 

The corners of his mouth twitched in the attempt to repress a smile. 

"I mean, " he said, "that the president of a trust company can afford tolive in a better house than the junior partner of Dallam and Spence. "

"The president of a trust company!" Honora scarcely recognized her ownvoice--so distant it sounded. The room rocked, and she clutched the armof a chair and sat down. He came and stood over her. 

"I thought that would surprise you some, " he said, obviously pleased bythese symptoms. "The fact is, I hadn't meant to break it to you untilmorning. But I think I'll go in on the seven thirty-five. " (He glancedsignificantly up at the ceiling, as though Mrs. Holt had something to dowith this decision. ) "President of the Orange Trust Company at fortyisn't so bad, eh?"

"The Orange Trust Company? Did you say the Orange Trust Company?"

"Yes. " He produced a cigarette. "Old James Wing and Brent practicallycontrol it. You see, if I do say it myself, I handled some things prettywell for Brent this summer, and he's seemed to appreciate it. He and Wingwere buying in traction stocks out West. But you could have knocked medown with a paper-knife when he came to me--"

"When did he come to you?" she asked breathlessly. 

"Yesterday. We went down town together, you remember, and he asked me tostep into his office. Well, we talked it over, and I left on the oneo'clock for Newport to see Mr. Wing. Wonderful old man! I sat up with himtill midnight--it wasn't any picnic" . . . 

More than once during the night Honora awoke with a sense of oppression, and each time went painfully through the whole episode from the evening--some weeks past when Trixton Brent had first mentioned the subject ofthe trust company, to the occurrence in the automobile and Howard'striumphant announcement. She had but a vague notion of how that scene hadfinished; or of how, limply, she had got to bed. Round and round thecircle she went in each waking period. To have implored him to relinquishthe place had been waste of breath; and then--her reasons? These were themoments when the current was strongest, when she grew incandescent withhumiliation and pain; when stray phrases in red letters of Brent's wereilluminated. Merit! He had a contempt for her husband which he had nottaken the trouble to hide. But not a business contempt. "As good as thenext man, " Brent had said--or words to that effect. "As good as the nextman!" Then she had tacitly agreed to the bargain, and refused to honourthe bill! No, she had not, she had not. Before God, she was innocent ofthat! When she reached this point it was always to James Wing that sheclung--the financier, at least, had been impartial. And it was he whosaved her. 

At length she opened her eyes to discover with bewilderment that the roomwas flooded with light, and then she sprang out of bed and went to theopen window. To seaward hung an opal mist, struck here and there withcrimson. She listened; some one was whistling an air she had heardbefore--Mrs. Barclay had been singing it last night! Wheels crunched thegravel--Howard was going off. She stood motionless until the horse'shoofs rang on the highroad, and then hurried into her dressing-gown andslippers and went downstairs to the telephone and called a number. 

"Is this Mr. Brent's? Will you say to Mr. Brent that Mrs. Spence would begreatly, obliged if he stopped a moment at her house before going totown? Thank you. "

She returned to her room and dressed with feverish haste, trying togather her wits for an ordeal which she felt it would have killed her todelay. At ten minutes to eight she emerged again and glanced anxiously atMrs. Holt's door; and scarcely had she reached the lower hall before hedrove into the circle. She was struck more forcibly than ever by thephysical freshness of the man, and he bestowed on her, as he took herhand, the peculiar smile she knew so well, that always seemed to have anenigma behind it. At sight and touch of him the memory of what she hadprepared to say vanished. 

"Behold me, as ever, your obedient servant, " he said, as he followed herinto the screened-off portion of the porch. 

"You must think it strange that I sent for you, I know, " she cried, asshe turned to him. "But I couldn't wait. I--I did not know until lastnight. Howard only told me then. Oh, you didn't do it for me! Please sayyou didn't do it for me!"

"My dear Honora, " replied Trixton Brent, gravely, "we wanted your husbandfor his abilities and the valuable services he can render us. "

She stood looking into his eyes, striving to penetrate to the soulbehind, ignorant or heedless that others before her had tried and failed. He met her gaze unflinchingly, and smiled. 

"I want the truth, " she craved. 

"I never lie--to a woman, " he said. 

"My life--my future depends upon it, " she went on. "I'd rather scrubfloors, I'd rather beg--than to have it so. You must believe me!"

"I do believe you, " he affirmed. And he said it with a gentleness and asincerity that startled her. 

"Thank you, " she answered simply. And speech became very difficult. "If--if I haven't been quite fair with you--Mr. Brent, I am sorry. I--Iliked you, and I like you to-day better than ever before. And I can quitesee now how I must have misled you into thinking--queer things about me. I didn't mean to. I have learned a lesson. "

She took a deep, involuntary breath. The touch of lightness in his replyserved to emphasize the hitherto unsuspected fact that sportsmanship inTrixton Brent was not merely a code, but assumed something of thegrandeur of a principle. 

"I, too, have learned a lesson, " he replied. "I have learned thedifference between nature and art. I am something of a connoisseur inart. I bow to nature, and pay my bets. "

"Your bets?" she asked, with a look. 

"My renunciations, forfeits, whatever you choose to call them. I havebeen fairly and squarely beaten--but by nature, not by art. That is myconsolation. "

Laughter struck into her eyes like a shaft of sunlight into a well; heremotions were no longer to be distinguished. And in that moment shewondered what would have happened if she had loved this man, and why shehad not. And when next he spoke, she started. 

"How is my elderly dove-coloured friend this morning?" he asked. "Thatdinner with her was one of the great events of my life. I didn't supposesuch people existed any more. "

"Perhaps you'll stay to breakfast with her, " suggested Honora, smiling. "I know she'd like to see you again. "

"No, thanks, " he said, taking her hand, "I'm on my way to the train--I'dquite forgotten it. Au revoir!" He reached the end of the porch, turned, and called back, "As a 'dea ex machina', she has never been equalled. "

Honora stood for a while looking after him, until she heard a footstepbehind her, --Mrs. Holt's. 

"Who was that, my dear?" she asked, "Howard?"

"Howard has gone, Mrs. Holt, " Honora replied, rousing herself. "I mustmake his apologies. It was Mr. Brent. "

"Mr. Brent!" the good lady repeated, with a slight upward lift of thefaint eyebrows. "Does he often call this early?"

Honora coloured a little, and laughed. 

"I asked him to breakfast with you, but he had to catch a train. He--wished to be remembered. He took such a fancy to you. "

"I am afraid, " said Mrs. Holt, "that his fancy is a thing to be avoided. Are you coming to Silverdale with me, Honora?"

"Yes, Mrs. Holt, " she replied, slipping her arm through that of herfriend, "for as long as you will let me stay. "

And she left a note for Howard to that effect.