he pettiness of
resentment and complaint. The suspicion under which he labored was a
grave thing--a trouble, a blow; but it had not made him sour, nor borne
him to the earth with a conviction of the injustice of mankind.

His wife looked and marveled, but recollected herself in time to say
after only a minute's hesitation:

"I know a little more about rough characters than I once did. We saw a
good many at the East End hospital, did we not, Mr. Kenyon?"

It was the first time that she had shown that she remembered Maurice's
face. Caspar pricked up his ears.

"_You_ at a hospital, Alice? Why, what were you doing there?"

"Visiting some of the patients," she answered, with a little blush.

"Visits which were much appreciated," put in Maurice, "although we found
that Lady Alice was too generous."

"Until I was warned by one of the patients that the others abused my
kindness and traded on it," said Lady Alice, laughing rather nervously,
"and then I drew in a little."

"What patient was that?"

"The name I think was Smith--the man who lost his memory in that curious
way."

"Ah yes, I remember." And then Maurice knitted his brows and became very
thoughtful: he looked as if a thoroughly new idea had been suggested to
him.

Miss Brooke remarked that it was almost time to set out if they were to
go to the club that afternoon, and Lady Alice went to her room for her
cloak. She was before the looking-glass, apparently studying the
reflection of her own face, when a knock at the door, to which she
absently said "Come in," was followed by Caspar's entrance. She,
thinking that it was her maid, did not look round, and he came behind
her without being perceived. The first token of his presence was
received by her when his arm was slipped round her waist, and his voice
said caressingly and almost playfully in her ear, "I don't know that I
want my dainty piece of china carried down into the slums."

"Am I nothing more to you than that?" said Lady Alice reproachfully.

He made no answer, but as he looked at the fair face in the glass, and
as their eyes met, she thought that she read a reply in his glance.

"I have been nothing more--I know," she said, with sudden humbleness,
"but if it is not too late--if I can make up now for the time I have
lost----"

The tears trembled in her eyes, but he kissed them away with new
tenderness, saying in a soothing tone--

"We will see, my dear, we will see. I was only in jest."

An