ddenly she sank into an arm-chair, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh, what a fool--what a fool I am!" she exclaimed aloud. "Why have I not
strength of mind to go out before he comes, to show him that I don't
care? Why, at least, can I not call up grandpapa, and pretend I had
forgotten he was coming? That would be the best way to treat him; the way
to show him that I am not the miserable slave he thinks me. Why can I,
who know so well how to manage all other men, never manage the one man
whose love I want? That horrid old man was right--he does not want me--he
never did. Oh, if I only could be proud, and pretend I do not care! But I
can't, I can't--there is always this miserable sickening pain at my heart
for him, and he knows it. I have let him know it!"

A ring at the bell made her spring to her feet, whilst a glad flush
suddenly covered her face.

In another minute the man she loved was in the room.

"Nearly three-quarters of an hour late!" she cried, angrily, as he
entered. "How shamefully you treat me!"

He stood in front of the fire, pulling off his dogskin gloves:
a broad-shouldered, handsome fellow, with an aquiline nose and a
close-cropped head.

"Am I late?" he said, indifferently. "I really did not know it. I have
had fifty places to go to in as many minutes."

"Of course I shall forgive you if you have been so busy," she said,
softening at once. "Maurice, darling, are you not going to kiss me?" She
stood up by his side upon the hearthrug, looking at him with all her
heart in her eyes, whilst his were on the fire. She wound her arms round
his neck, and drew his head down. He leant his cheek carelessly towards
her lips, and she kissed him passionately; and he--he was thinking of
something else.

"Poor little woman," he said, almost with an effort recalling himself
to the present; he patted her cheek lightly and turned round to toss
his gloves into his hat on the table behind him. "How cold it has
turned--aren't you going to give me some tea?" And then he sat down on
the further side of the fire and stretched himself back in his arm-chair,
throwing his arms up behind his head.

Helen rang the bell for the tea.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" she said, poutingly.

Maurice Kynaston looked distressed.

"Upon my word, Helen, I am sure I don't know what you expect. I haven't
heard any particular news. I saw you only yesterday, you know. I don't
know what you want me to say."

Helen was sile