man; the other, in the
familiar green of the press-cutter, had lain in her pantry since the
early post.

"Ah, a press cutting!" ejaculated Hubert.

"Splendid. How exciting!" Helena replied, as though delighted and
surprised.

Lily went out. She did not even really want to smile by now. She had
been in three places before this, and in each of them the husband had
needed humouring in one way or another. She probably would never marry.

"It's very late," said Hubert expectantly. Two months had passed since
the last straggling notice of _Was It Worth While?_ and after this gap
he could open his green envelopes without a sense of irritation; yes,
even with excitement.

"The last one is sometimes the best, isn't it?" Helena threw the hope
out soothingly, but from the corner of her eyes she watched him with a
little nervousness. Certainly the most restful times were those like
the last weeks, when there were no reviews. They did seem to upset him
so. She wished now that she had opened this--except that she would
never dare to give it him if it chanced to be good.

She wished this wicked wish a thousand times more strongly, half a
minute later. Never, in these three years, had she seen Hubert so
affected by a notice. Great veins swelled out on his forehead, till
she was really terrified. She could pretend no longer not to notice.

"What is it, Hubert?" she asked as he said nothing. "I hope not a bad
one?"

"This is too scandalous," he cried, half choked and speaking like a
pompous old man in his anger. "Where will the newspapers ever stop?"

"What have they said now, dear?" He missed the tragic resignation in
that one word "now."

"Read it," he said and thrust it almost roughly at her, as though
blaming the whole world.

It did not seem, however, as though he could wait for her opinion.
"Newer," "practically unknown," he fired out at intervals, and other
adjectives.

But she heard none of them.

The paper swam before her eyes and every dim word filled her with a
sick dread, a resentful wonder, an absolute despair, for this is what
she saw:

"AUTHOR'S WIFE FIASCO

"OFFICIAL REVELATIONS

"Suburban tea-tables need buzz no more with questions as to the
identity of that now famous Author's Wife whose recent confessions have
raised such a pother. A representative of this paper found Mr.
Blatchley, this morning, at last in an unbending mood.

"'The secret is out,' said the publisher, 'the auth