which
streamed backward in smooth silky abundance, seemed more queenly than
usual. Perhaps it was that there was none of the latent fun and
tricksiness which had always pierced in her greeting of Rex. How much
of this was due to her presentiment from what he had said yesterday
that he was going to talk of love? How much from her desire to show
regret about his accident? Something of both. But the wisdom of ages
has hinted that there is a side of the bed which has a malign influence
if you happen to get out on it; and this accident befalls some charming
persons rather frequently. Perhaps it had befallen Gwendolen this
morning. The hastening of her toilet, the way in which Bugle used the
brush, the quality of the shilling serial mistakenly written for her
amusement, the probabilities of the coming day, and, in short, social
institutions generally, were all objectionable to her. It was not that
she was out of temper, but that the world was not equal to the demands
of her fine organism.

However it might be, Rex saw an awful majesty about her as she entered
and put out her hand to him, without the least approach to a smile in
eyes or mouth. The fun which had moved her in the evening had quite
evaporated from the image of his accident, and the whole affair seemed
stupid to her. But she said with perfect propriety, "I hope you are not
much hurt, Rex; I deserve that you should reproach me for your
accident."

"Not at all," said Rex, feeling the soul within him spreading itself
like an attack of illness. "There is hardly any thing the matter with
me. I am so glad you had the pleasure: I would willingly pay for it by
a tumble, only I was sorry to break the horse's knees."

Gwendolen walked to the hearth and stood looking at the fire in the
most inconvenient way for conversation, so that he could only get a
side view of her face.

"My father wants me to go to Southampton for the rest of the vacation,"
said Rex, his baritone trembling a little.

"Southampton! That's a stupid place to go to, isn't it?" said
Gwendolen, chilly.

"It would be to me, because you would not be there." Silence.

"Should you mind about me going away, Gwendolen?"

"Of course. Every one is of consequence in this dreary country," said
Gwendolen, curtly. The perception that poor Rex wanted to be tender
made her curl up and harden like a sea-anemone at the touch of a finger.

"Are you angry with me, Gwendolen? Why do you treat me in this way all
at