e, and at any
costs, society not wholly agreeable to him. He bowed coldly to the man
who was already greeting Berenice, and who was carrying a great bunch
of Parma violets.

Mr. Thorndyke was evidently astonished at his presence--and not
agreeably.

"Have you come, Mr. Matravers," he asked coldly, "to make your peace?"

"I am not aware," Matravers answered calmly, "of any reason why I
should do so."

Mr. Thorndyke raised his eyebrows, and drew an afternoon paper from
his pocket.

"This is your writing, is it not?" he asked.

Matravers glanced at the paragraph.

"Certainly!"

Mr. Thorndyke threw the paper upon the table.

"Well," he said, "I have no doubt it is an excellent piece of literary
work--a satire I suppose you would call it--and I must congratulate
you upon its complete success. I don't mind running the theatre at a
financial loss, but I have a distinct objection to being made a
laughing stock of. I suppose this paper appeared about two hours ago,
and already I can't move a yard without having to suffer the
condolences of some sympathizing ass. I shall close the theatre next
week."

"That is naturally," Matravers said, "a matter of complete
indifference to me. In the cause of art I should say that you will do
well, unless you can select a play from a very different source. What
I wrote of the performance last night, I wrote according to my
convictions. You," he added, turning to Berenice, "will at least
believe that, I am sure!"

"Most certainly I do," she assured him, holding out her hand. "Must
you really go? You will come and see me again--very soon?"

He bowed over her fingers, and then their eyes met for a moment. She
was very pale, but she looked at him bravely. He realized suddenly
that Mr. Thorndyke's threat was a serious blow to her.

"I am very sorry," he said. "You will not bear me any ill will?"

"None!" she answered; "you may be sure of that!"

She walked with him to the open door, outside which the servant was
waiting to show him downstairs.

"You will come and see me again--very soon?" she repeated.

"Yes," he answered simply, "if I may I shall come again! I will come
as soon as you care to have me!"

CHAPTER V

Matravers passed out into the street with a curious admixture of
sensations in a mind usually so free from any confusion of sentiments
or ideas. The few words which he had been compelled to exchange with
Thorndyke had grated very much against his sense o