Jadwin was not home yet, and
she was distressed at the thought of keeping dinner waiting. He usually
came back from down town at five o'clock, and even earlier. To-day she
had expected that quite possibly the business implied in the Liverpool
cable of the morning might detain him, but surely he should be home by
now; and as the minutes passed she listened more and more anxiously for
the sound of hoofs on the driveway at the side of the house.

At five minutes of the hour, when Corthell was announced, there was
still no sign of her husband. But as she was crossing the hall on her
way to the drawing-room, one of the servants informed her that Mr.
Jadwin had just telephoned that he would be home in half an hour.

"Is he on the telephone now?" she asked, quickly. "Where did he
telephone from?"

But it appeared that Jadwin had "hung up" without mentioning his
whereabouts.

"The buggy came home," said the servant. "Mr. Jadwin told Jarvis not to
wait. He said he would come in the street cars."

Laura reflected that she could delay dinner a half hour, and gave
orders to that effect.

"We shall have to wait a little," she explained to Corthell as they
exchanged greetings in the drawing-room. "Curtis has some special
business on hand to-day, and is half an hour late."

They sat down on either side of the fireplace in the lofty apartment,
with its sombre hangings of wine-coloured brocade and thick, muffling
rugs, and for upwards of three-quarters of an hour Corthell interested
her with his description of his life in the cathedral towns of northern
Italy. But at the end of that time dinner was announced.

"Has Mr. Jadwin come in yet?" Laura asked of the servant.

"No, madam."

She bit her lip in vexation.

"I can't imagine what can keep Curtis so late," she murmured. "Well,"
she added, at the end of her resources, "we must make the best of it. I
think we will go in, Mr. Corthell, without waiting. Curtis must be here
soon now."

But, as a matter of fact, he was not. In the great dining-room, filled
with a dull crimson light, the air just touched with the scent of
lilies of the valley, Corthell and Mrs. Jadwin dined alone.

"I suppose," observed the artist, "that Mr. Jadwin is a very busy man."

"Oh, no," Laura answered. "His real estate, he says, runs itself, and,
as a rule, Mr. Gretry manages most of his Board of Trade business. It
is only occasionally that anything keeps him down town late. I scolded
him this mor