en o'clock."

"I must, however, go."

"Nonsense. Where will you pass the next hour and a half? There's not
a cat in town."

"Nevertheless, I promised a man to meet him at the...."

"_Jimmy_!"

He had reached the door, making his way with a dogged determination
and, like a man who has touched terra firma after months on a dancing
brig, still not feeling quite sure of the land or its tricks.

"How you hurry from me," she said softly.

"Oh, I'm hurrying off," he explained brightly, "because I want to get
hold of that chap out there and take him to supper, and to find out why
he isn't on the operatic stage. He's got a jolly voice. Good night,
good night."

He was gone from her with scant courtesy and a brusquerie she knew
well, adored and hated! During these last years she had done her cruel
best, her wicked best, to soften and change and break it down.

The curtains, as she drew them back, showed that the fog had for the
most part lifted, and she was just in time to see the piano and the two
musicians disappear in the mist which still tenaciously held the end of
the street in shadow--a gentleman in long evening cloak and high hat
hurried after the street people. The woman's face was tender as she
watched the distinguished figure melt into the fog, and at her last
glimpse of her friend she blew a kiss against the pane.

Bulstrode did not go back that night to Westboro'. He wired out that
Mrs. Falconer and himself would be down for dinner the following day
and he also wired for a motor to meet him some few miles from Penhaven
Abbey, as the motor did the next day.

As he speeded towards Penhaven Bulstrode leaned towards the man who
drove him.

"Stop first at the inn, will you, Bowles? I'll order tea there, and
then drive on to the station at the Hants. It's the three o'clock from
London we're to meet, you know, and we've just the time."

The Abbey and its clustering village hung on the hill side some fifteen
lovely miles away to the south of them. And Bulstrode, who was at
length obediently answering the call of it, and in response to the
fancied bell of the entire country side, religiously hastening to
whatever might reward him, settled himself back in his corner.

He saw the mist fly by him as his carriage cut out its way rapidly
through Glousceshire. The air was not too cold in spite of the
dampness, for the vapor rose high, and above and below it the
atmosphere was clear.

Mrs. Falconer he