and holding his eye, defying so hurried a
departure, while she kept up a chattering about the last night's party.
Her husband hesitated, but his hunger (he had the voracious appetite
of such shrivelled atomies) and a wholesome fear of being accused of
jealousy made him withdraw, leaving the office to the pair.

All MacTaggart's anger rose against madame for her machination. "You saw
me from the window," said he; "it's a half-cooked dinner for the goodman
to-day, I'll warrant!"

She laughed a most intoxicating laugh, all charged with some sweet
velvety charm, put out her hands, and caught his. "Oh, Lord! I wish it
would choke him, Sim," said she, fervently, then lifted up her mouth and
dropped a swooning eyelash over her passionate orbs.

"Adorable creature," he thought: "she'll have rat-bane in his broth some
day." He kissed her with no more fervour than if she had been a wooden
figurehead, but she was not thus to be accepted: she put an arm quickly
round his neck and pressed her passionate lips to his. Back he drew
wincing. "Oh, damnation!" he cried.

"What's the matter?" she exclaimed in wonder, and turned to assure
herself that it was not that some one spied from the inner door, for
Mac-Taggart's face had become exceeding pale.

"Nothing, nothing," he replied; "you are--you are so ferocious."

"Am I, Sim?" said she. "Who taught me? Oh, Sim," she went on,
pleadingly, "be good to me. I'm sick, I'm _sick_ of life, and you don't
show you care for me a little bit. Do you love me, Sim?"

"Heavens!" he cried, "you would ask the question fifty times a-day if
you had the opportunity."

"It would need a hundred times a-day to keep up with your changing
moods. Do you love me, Sim?" She was smiling, with the most pathetic
appeal in her face.

"You look beautiful in that gown, Kate," said he, irrelevantly, not
looking at it at all, but out at the window, where showed the gabbarts
tossing in the bay, and the sides of the hill of Dunchuach all splashed
with gold and crimson leafage.

"Never mind my gown, Sim," said she, stamping her foot, and pulling at
the buttons of his coat. "Once--oh, Sim, do you love me? Tell me,
tell me, tell me! Whether you do or not, say it, you used to be such a
splendid liar."

"It was no lie," said he curtly; then to himself: "Oh, Lord, give me
patience with this! and I have brought it on myself."

"It _was_ no lie. Oh, Sim!" (And still she was turning wary eyes upon
the door that led to h