"He oughtn't to have left that to

you.

"I knew this horror was coming, and it took possession of me, there in the box, from one moment to the other the idea of making sure of some other life, some protection, some respectability. First I thought he liked me, he had behaved as if he did. And I like him, he is a very good man. So I asked him, I couldn't help it, it was too hideous-I offered myself!" Laura spoke as if she were telling that she had stabbed him, standing there with dilated

eyes.

Lady Davenant got up again and went to her; drawing off her glove she felt her cheek with the back of her hand. "You are ill, you are in a fever. I'm sure that whatever you said it was very charming."

"Yes, I am ill," said Laura.

"Upon my honor you shan't go home, you shall go straight to bed. And what did he say to you?"

"Oh, it was too miserable!" cried the girl, pressing her face again into her companion's kerchief. "I was all, all mistaken; he had never thought!"

Why the deuce, then, did he run about that way after you? He was a brute to say it!”

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'He didn't say it, and he never ran about. He behaved like a perfect gentleman."

nant said. "Make him understand that it interests him very nearly, so that no matter what his engagements may be he must give them up. Go quickly and you'll just find him; he'll be sure to be at home to dress for dinner." She had calculated justly, for a few minutes before ten o'clock the door of her drawing-room was thrown open and Mr. Wendover was announced.

Sit there," said the old lady; "no, not that one, nearer to me. We must talk low. My dear sir, I won't bite you!"

"Oh, this is very comfortable," Mr. Wendover replied, vaguely, smiling through his visible anxiety. It was no more than natural that he should wonder what Laura Wing's peremptory friend wanted of him at that hour of the night; but nothing could exceed the gallantry of his attempt to conceal the symptoms of mistrust.

"You ought to have come before, you know," Lady Davenant went on. "I have wanted to see you more than once." "I have been dining out-I hurried away. This was the first possible moment, I assure you."

"I too was dining out, and I stopped at home on purpose to see you. But I didn't mean to-night, for you have done very well. I was quite intending to send for you the other day. But something put it out of my head. Besides, I knew she wouldn't like it."

'Why, Lady Davenant, I made a point of calling, ever so long ago—after that day!" the young man exclaimed, not reassured, or at any rate not enlightened.

"I dare say you did-but you mustn't justify yourself; that's just what I don't want; it isn't what I sent for you for. I have something very particular to say to you, but it's very difficult. Voyons un peu !"

The old woman reflected a little, with her eyes on his face, which had grown more grave as she went on; its expression intimated that he didn't yet understand her and that he, at least, wasn't exactly trifling. Lady Davenant's musings didn't apparently help her much, if she was looking for an artful approach; for they ended in her saying, abruptly, "I wonder if you know what a capital girl she is."

"Do you mean-do you mean- ?" queried Mr. Wendover, pausing as if he had given her no right not to allow him to conceive alternatives.

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'Yes, I do mean. She's up-stairs, in bed."

"Up-stairs!" The young man stared. "Don't be afraid-I'm not going to send for her!" laughed his hostess; "her being here, after all, has nothing to do with it, except that she did come-yes, certainly, she did come. But my keeping her that was my doing. My maid has gone to Grosvenor Place to get her things and let them know that she will stay here for the present. Now am I clear?"

"Not the least," said Mr. Wendover, almost sternly.

Lady Davenant, however, was not of a composition to suspect him of sternness or to care very much if she did, and she went on, with her quick discursiveness: "Well, we must be patient; we shall work it out together. I was afraid you would go away, that's why I lost no time. Above all I want you to understand that she has not the least idea that I have sent for you, and you must promise me never, never, never to let her know. She would be monstrous angry. It is quite my own idea-I have taken the responsibility. I know very little about you, of course, but she has spoken to me well of you. Besides, I am very clever about people, and I liked you that day, though you seemed to think I was a hundred and eighty."

"You do me great honor," Mr. Wendover murmured.

"I'm glad you're pleased! You must be if I tell you that I like you now even better. I see what you are, except for the question of fortune. It doesn't perhaps matter much, but have you any money? I mean have you a fine in

come?"

"No, indeed I haven't!" And the young man laughed in his bewilderment. "I have very little money indeed." "Well, I dare say you have as much as I. Besides that would be a proof she is not mercenary."

"You haven't in the least made it plain whom you are talking about,” said Mr. Wendover. "I have no right to assume anything."

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It's

'You must remember where we were in a public place, with very little room for throwing!" Mr. Wendover exclaimed. "Ah, so far from blaming you she says your behavior was perfect. only I who want to have it out with you," Lady Davenant pursued. “She's so clever, so charming, so good, and so unhappy."

"When I said just now she was strange, I meant only in the way she turned against me."

"She turned against you?"

"She told me she hoped she should never see me again."

"And you, should you like to see her?"

Not now-not now!" Mr. Wendover exclaimed, eagerly.

"I don't mean now, I'm not such a fool as that. I mean some day or other, when she has stopped accusing herself, if she ever does."

"Ah, Lady Davenant, you must leave that to me," the young man returned, after a moment's hesitation.

"Don't be afraid to tell me I'm meddling with what doesn't concern me," said his hostess. "Of course I know I'm meddling; I sent for you here to meddle. Who wouldn't, for that creature? She makes one melt."

"I'm exceedingly sorry for her. I don't know what she thinks she said.“

"Then you are a dear good man. Vous faisiez votre cour, in short."

Mr. Wendover made no immediate response; the two sat looking at each other.

"It isn't easy for me to talk of these things," he said at last; "but if you mean that I wished to ask her to be my wife I am bound to tell you that I had no such intention."

"Ah, then I'm at sea. You thought her charming and you went to see her every day. What, then, did you wish?" "I didn't go every day. Moreover I think you have a very different idea in this country of what constitutes-well, what constitutes making love. A man commits himself much sooner.'

“Oh, I don't know what your odd ways may be!" Lady Davenant exclaimed, with a shade of irritation.

"Yes, but I was justified in supposing that those ladies did; they at least are American."

"They,' my dear sir! For heaven's sake don't mix up that nasty Selina with it!"

'Why not, if I admired her too? I do extremely, and I thought the house most interesting."

"Mercy on us, if that's your idea of a nice house! But I don't know-I have always kept out of it," Lady Davenant added, checking herself. Then she went on, "If you are so fond of Mrs. Berrington I am sorry to inform you that she is absolutely good-for-nothing.

"Good-for-nothing?"

"Nothing to speak of. I have been thinking whether I would tell you, and I have decided to do so because I take it that your learning it for yourself would be a question of but a very short time. Selina has bolted, as they say."

"Bolted?" Mr. Wendover repeated.

"I don't know what you call it in America."

'In America we don't do it." "Ah, well, if they stay, as they do usually abroad, that's better. I suppose you didn't think her capable of behaving herself, did you?"

"Do you mean she has left her husband-with someone else?"

"Neither more nor less; with a fellow named Crispin. It appears it all came off last evening, and she had her own reasons for doing it in the most offensive way-publicly, clumsily, with the vulgarest bravado. Laura has told me what took place, and you must permit me to express my surprise at your not having divined the miserable business."

"I saw something was wrong, but I didn't understand. I'm afraid I'm not very quick at these things."

"Your state is the more gracious; but certainly you are not quick if you could call there so often and not see through Selina."

"Mr. Crispin, whoever he is, was never there," said the young man.

"Oh, she was a clever hussy!" his companion rejoined.

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'I knew she was fond of amusement, but that's what I liked to see. I wanted to see a house of that sort."

"Fond of amusement is a very pretty phrase!" said Lady Davenant, laughing at the simplicity with which her visitor accounted for his assiduity. "And did Laura Wing seem to you in her place in a house of that sort?"

'Why, it was natural she should be with her sister, and she always struck me as very gay."

"That was your enlivening effect. And did she strike you as very gay last night, with this scandal hanging over her?"

"She didn't talk much," said Mr. Wendover.

"She knew it was coming-she felt it, she saw it, and that's what makes her sick now, that at such a time she should have challenged you, when she felt herself about to be associated (in people's minds, of course,) with such a vile business. In people's minds and in yourswhen you should know what had happened."

"Ah, Miss Wing isn't associated

ing London." That was the only answer Lady Davenant got to her inquiry.

"Good-bye then. She is the nicest girl I know. But once more, mind you don't let her suspect!"

"How can I let her suspect anything when I shall never see her again?" "Oh, don't say that," said Lady Davenant, very gently.

"She drove me away from her with a kind of ferocity."

"Dear me, how dreadful!" "Yes, dreadful enough. But don't betray me."

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Betray you?" he repeated, as if his thoughts had gone astray a moment. "I mean to the girl. Think of her shame!"

"Her shame?" Mr. Wendover said, in the same way.

"It seemed to her, with what was becoming so clear to her, that an honest man might save her from it, might give her his name and his faith and help her to traverse the bad place. She exaggerates the badness of it, the stigma of her relationship. Good heavens, at that rate where would some of us be? But those are her ideas, they are absolutely sincere, and they had possession of her at the opera. She had a sense of being lost and was in a kind of agony to be rescued. She saw before her a kind gentleman who had seemed-who had certainly seemed- And Lady Davenant, with her fine old face lighted by her bright sagacity and her eyes on Mr. Wendover's, paused, lingering on this word. "Of course she must have been in a state of nerves."

"I am very sorry for her," said Mr. Wendover, with his gravity that committed him to nothing.

"So am I! And of course if you were not in love with her you weren't, were you?"

"I must bid you good-bye, I am leav

"Oh, gammon !" cried the old woman. "I'm going home," he said, looking at her with his hand on the door.

Well, it's the best place for you. And for her too!" she added as he went out. She was not sure that the last words reached him.

XIII.

The

LAURA WING was sharply ill for three days, but on the fourth she made up her mind she was better, though this was not the opinion of Lady Davenant, who would not hear of her getting up. remedy she urged was lying still and yet lying still; but this specific the girl found wellnigh intolerable-it was a form of relief that only ministered to fever. She assured her friend that it killed her to do nothing: to which her friend replied by asking her what she had a fancy to do. Laura had her idea and held it tight, but there was no use in producing it before Lady Davenant, who would have covered it with derision. On the afternoon of the first day Lionel Berrington came, and though his intention was honest he brought no healing. Hearing she was ill he wanted to look after her he wanted to take her back to Grosvenor Place and make her comfortable; he spoke as if he had every convenience for producing that condition, though he confessed there was a little bar to it in his own case. This impediment was the " cheeky" aspect of Miss Steet, who went sniffing about as if she knew a lot, if she should only condescend to tell it. He saw more of the children now; "I'm going to have 'em in every day, poor little devils," he said; and he spoke as if the discipline of suffering had already begun for him and a kind of holy change had taken place in

his life. Nothing had been said yet in the house, of course, as Laura knew, about Selina's disappearance, in the way of treating it as irregular; but the servants pretended so hard not to be aware of anything in particular that they were like pickpockets looking with unnatural interest the other way after they have crabbed a fellow's watch. To a certainty, in a day or two, the governess would give him warning; she would come and tell him she couldn't stay in such a place, and he would tell her, in return, that she was a little ass for not knowing that the place was much more respectable now than it had ever been. This information Selina's husband imparted to Lady Davenant, to whom he discoursed with infinite candor and humor, taking a highly philosophical view of his position and declaring that it suited him down to the ground. His wife couldn't have pleased him better if she had done it on purpose; he knew where she had been every hour since she quitted Laura at the opera-he knew where she was at that moment, and he was expecting to find another telegram on his return to Grosvenor Place. So if it suited her it was all right, wasn't it? and the whole thing would go as straight as a shot. Lady Davenant took him up to see Laura, though she viewed their meeting with extreme disfavor, the girl being in no state for talking. In general Laura had little enough mind for it, but she insisted on seeing Lionel; she declared that if this were not allowed her she would go after him, ill as she was-she would dress herself and drive to his house. She dressed herself now, after a fashion; she got upon a sofa to receive him. Lady Davenant left him alone with her for twenty minutes, at the end of which she returned to take him away. This interview was not fortifying to the girl, whose idea-the idea of which I have said that she was tenacious-was to go after her sister, to take possession of her, cling to her and bring her back. Lionel, of course, wouldn't hear of taking her back, nor would Selina presumably hear of coming; but this made no difference in Laura's heroic plan. She would work it, she would compass it, she would go down on her knees, she would find the elo

quence of angels, she would achieve miracles. At any rate it made her frantic not to try, especially as in even fruitless action she should escape from herself-an object of which her horror was not yet extinguished.

As she lay there through hours of no sleep the picture of that hideous moment in the box alternated with the vision of her sister's guilty flight. She wanted to fly, herself to go off and keep going forever. Lionel was fussily kind to her and he didn't abuse Selina-he didn't tell her again how that lady's behavior suited his book. He simply resisted, with a little exasperating, dogged grin, her pitiful appeal for knowledge of her sister's whereabouts. He knew what she wanted it for, and he wouldn't help her in any such game. If she would promise, solemnly, to be quiet, he would tell her when she got better, but he wouldn't lend her a hand to make a fool of herself. Her work was cut out for her she was to stay and mind the children; if she was so keen to do her duty she needn't go farther than that for it. He talked a great deal about the children and figured himself as pressing the little deserted darlings to his bosom. He was not a comedian, and she could see that he really believed he was going to be better now. Laura said she was sure Selina would make an attempt to get them—or at least one of them; and he replied, grimly, "Yes, my dear, she had better try!" The girl was so angry with him, in her hot, tossing weakness, for refusing to tell her even whether the desperate pair had crossed the channel, that she was guilty of the immorality of regretting that the difference in badness between husband and wife was so distinct (for it was distinct, she could see that) as he made his dry little remark about Selina's trying. He told her he had already seen his solicitor, and she said she didn't care.

On the fourth day of her absence from Grosvenor Place she got up, at an hour when she was alone (in the afternoon, rather late), and prepared herself to go out. Lady Davenant had admitted, in the morning, that she was better, and fortunately she had not the complication of being subject to a medical opinion, having absolutely refused to see a