decent to
her that day Mrs. Wyatt died; you've got a sort of way that I haven't.
I--I should be no end obliged. I'll--I'll keep out of the way myself
for a bit, and then----" He looked anxiously at his friend. "Will you
go?"

"She probably won't see me if I do."

"She will. She's sick of the sight of me."

Sangster smiled in spite of himself. He got up, stretching his arms;
he shook his head at Jimmy.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking," said Jimmy savagely. "But I swear
to you that it's not my fault this time, anyway. I swear to you that
I've done my best. I----"

"I'm not doubting it," said Sangster dryly. He fetched his hat and
coat from a room adjoining, and they went out into the street together.

"Take her out to lunch," said Jimmy nervously. "Take her for a walk in
the park--try to rouse her a bit; but for heaven's sake don't talk
about me."

He looked anxious and worried; he really was very upset; but he was
conscious of an enormous sense of relief as he and Sangster parted at
the street corner. As soon as Sangster was out of sight he hailed a
taxi, and told the man to drive him to his club. He ordered a stiff
brandy and soda, and dropped into one of the deep leathern arm-chairs
with a sigh. He had been married only three days, and already it
seemed like three years. Of course, he was not blaming Christine, poor
little girl; but--oh, if only she hadn't been quite such a child!

He lifted the glass, and looked at its contents with lugubrious eyes.

"Well, here's to a brighter future," said Jimmy Challoner drearily; but
he sighed heavily as he tossed off the brandy and soda.

* * * * * *

Sangster felt decidedly nervous when he reached the hotel where Jimmy
and his wife were staying. He had no faith in his own powers, though
apparently Jimmy had plenty for him; he was no ladies' man; he had
never troubled about a woman in his life, probably because none had
ever troubled about him. He asked punctiliously for Jimmy; it was only
when told that Mr. Challoner was out that he asked for Christine.

A little gleam of something like sympathy shot into the man's eyes.
The chambermaid who waited on Christine was voluble, and a friend of
his, and he had heard a great deal from her that was untrue, mixed up
with a smattering of truth.

He said that he was sure Mrs. Challoner was in; he sent a page-boy up
with Sangster's card.

It seemed a long time before the re