I was
less fortunate in my specimen. I never met her myself, but she married
a man I knew well, and--ran away from him on their honeymoon!"

I laughed. I am so glad I laughed. So glad there was time to say
lightly, "She _was_ soon tired!" before, between the spreading leaves of
a palm, I caught Charmion's eyes--my Charmion!--staring into mine, and
knew that she had overheard--knew more--knew, in a blundering flash of
intuition, that the words which had just been spoken referred to no
stranger, but to herself! Fortunately for us both, Mrs Elliott was
facing me, so she did not see, as I did, the sudden pause, the blanching
face, the dumb appeal of the stricken eyes.

I flashed back reassurement, and at once led the way forward--out of the
conservatory, back to the drawing-room, affecting to be tired, to want
to sit down. Mrs Elliott followed, unperturbed. It didn't matter to
her where she went, the one indispensable necessity was to talk, and to
have someone to listen. She continued her history with voluble
emphasis.

"I should think it _was_ soon! Well, I guess she might have thought it
out before she went so far. Too hard on a man to be treated like that.
Kind of humiliates him before his friends, that a woman couldn't put up
with him one month--"

"I shouldn't worry about _his_ pride," I said curtly. "What about hers?
It would be worse than humiliating for a woman to be _obliged_ to go!
He must have been a poor thing!"

"Well, I don't know. He was a real popular man. He may have been a bit
careless and extravagant; quite a good many young men are that, but they
settle down into staid, steady-going husbands if the right woman comes
along to help. Doesn't seem to me, Miss Wastneys, that it's _possible_
for any man to be so bad, that in three weeks the woman who had promised
to stick to him till death should throw up the sponge!"

It did not seem so to me, either, so I made no comment. I should not
have been human if I had not burned to ask questions, but I would not
allow myself to do it. What Charmion wished me to hear, she would tell
me herself. The time had come when she _would_ tell me. I knew that.
This chance encounter had decided the moment when her silence should be
broken.

Mrs Elliott smothered a yawn, and straightened a diamond bracelet on
her wrist. The diamonds were massed together so heavily that the weight
dragged them to the inside of her arm, leaving only the plain gold band
i