s in her
cold, living eyes, as in the prolonged silence they engaged themselves
with his; but I must not dwell upon it, for reasons extraneous to the
remarkable fact She was a truly amazing creature.

"Raymond!" she said, in a low voice, a voice which might represent
either a vague greeting or an appeal.

He took no heed of the exclamation, but asked her why she had
deliberately kept him waiting,--as if she had not made a fool enough of
him already. She could n't suppose it was for his pleasure he had come
into the house.

She hesitated a moment,--still with her smile. "I must tell you I have
a son,--the dearest little boy. His nurse happened to be engaged for the
moment, and I had to watch him. I am more devoted to him than you might
suppose."

He fell back from her a few steps. "I wonder if you are insane," he
murmured.

"To allude to my child? Why do you ask me such questions then? I tell
you the simple truth. I take every care of this one. I am older and
wiser. The other one was a complete mistake; he had no right to exist."

"Why didn't you kill him then with your own hands, instead of that
torture?"

"Why did n't I kill myself? That question would be more to the point You
are looking wonderfully well," she broke off in another tone; "had n't
we better sit down?"

"I did n't come here for the advantage of conversation," Benyon
answered. And he was going on, but she interrupted him--

"You came to say something dreadful, very likely; though I hoped you
would see it was better not But just tell me this before you begin. Are
you successful, are you happy? It has been so provoking, not knowing
more about you."

There was something in the manner in which this was said that caused him
to break into a loud laugh; whereupon she added,--

"Your laugh is just what it used to be. How it comes back to me! You
_have_ improved in appearance," she went on.

She had seated herself, though he remained standing; and she leaned back
in a low, deep chair, looking up at him, with her arms folded. He stood
near her and over her, as it were, dropping his baffled eyes on her,
with his hand resting on the corner of the chimney-piece. "Has it never
occurred to you that I may deem myself absolved from the promise made
you before I married you?"

"Very often, of course. But I have instantly dismissed the idea. How can
you be 'absolved'? One promises, or one doesn't. I attach no meaning
to that, and neither do you." And she g