s. But, as a matter
of fact, to-morrow is Christmas Day. Would you like to go home this
afternoon? We can order a car for two o'clock, and be at the Grange for
tea. Ronnie, wouldn't it be rather lovely? Think of the little cosy
tea-table, and your own especial chair, and the soft lamp-light--"

She paused abruptly. The mental picture had recalled to both the evening
on which they last stood together in that golden lamplight.

Ronnie hesitated, looking at the floor. Then he raised his eyes to
Helen's. "I don't think I could bear it," he said, turned from her
quickly, and went upstairs.

In his room he scribbled a note.

"My wife--I am awfully sorry, but I simply _had_ to bolt. Don't be
alarmed. I have gone home to the Grange. I believe, when I am by myself
in the house where we spent the three years I thought so perfect and so
happy, I shall find out what is the matter; I shall get to the very root
of the Upas tree.

"I know I somehow hurt you horribly on the night I reached home, by
asking you to come to the studio to hear me play my 'cello; but, before
God, I haven't the faintest idea why!

"You would not have said what you did, had you known I was ill; but
neither would you have said it, unless it had been true. If it was true
then, it is true now. If it is true now, we can't spend Christmas Day
together.

"I want you to go to the Dalmains by motor, as soon as you find this,
and have a jolly, restful time with them. You look worn out.

"RONNIE."

"P.S.--I am obliged to leave this in my room. I hope you will find it
there. I don't even know where your room is, Helen, in this beastly
hotel."

Ronnie considered his postscript; then crossed out "beastly" and
substituted "large." But "beastly" still showed, pathetically, beneath
the line. And, by-and-by, the heart of Ronnie's wife, from which all
clouds had suddenly rolled away, understood it, and wept over it, and
kissed it; and thought "beastly" a dear word! It was so quaintly like
Ronnie to substitute "large" for "beastly."

All clouds had rolled away, before Helen read the note; for this is what
had happened.

* * * * *

Ronnie had excused himself when lunch was half over.

Helen let him go, trying to act on Dr. Dick's advice not to worry him by
seeming to watch or follow him.

So she sat on alone, finishing luncheon, and thus did not see Ronnie
walk out of the