to the personal side of the case. She was not hurt,
she was enormously relieved.

"I'm not inclined to be a pensioner on my wife," he said.

She opened her lips to speak; she was within an ace of telling him that,
if this and that went well, he would have so assured and recognized a
position that none could throw stones at him. Her words died away in
face of the peremptory finality of his words and the bitter anger on
his face. She sat silent and forlorn, wondering what had become of her
resolve and her inspiration.

"In my place you would feel as I do," he said a moment later. His tone
was milder. "You can't deny it," he insisted. "Look me in the face and
deny it if you can. I know you too well."

For some minutes longer she sat still. Then she got up with a desolate
air. Everything seemed over; the great offer, with its great scene, had
come to very little. Anticlimax, foe to emotion! She remembered how the
scene in the Long Gallery had gone. So much better, so much better! But
Harry dominated her--and he had stopped the scene. Without attempting to
bid him any farewell she moved toward the door slowly and drearily.

She was arrested by his voice--a new voice, very good-natured, rather
chaffing.

"Are you doing anything particular to-night?" he asked.

She turned round; he was smiling at her in an open but friendly
amusement.

"No," she murmured. "I'm going back home, I suppose."

"To Blent?" he asked quickly.

"No, to our house. Mina's there and----" Her face was puzzled; she left
her sentence unfinished.

"Well, I've got nothing to do. Let's have dinner and go somewhere
together?"

Their eyes met. Gradually Cecily's lightened into a sparkle as her lips
bent and her white teeth showed a little. She was almost laughing
outright as she answered readily, without so much as a show of
hesitation or a hint of surprise, "Yes."

Nothing else can be so ample as a monosyllable is sometimes. If it had
been Harry's object to escape from a tragic or sensational situation he
had achieved it triumphantly. The question was no longer who should have
Blent, but where they should have dinner. Nothing in his manner showed
that he had risked and succeeded in a hazardous experiment; he had
brought her down to the level of common-sense--that is, to his own view
of things; incidentally he had secured what he hoped would prove a very
pleasant evening. Finally he meant to have one more word with her on the
matter of her visit