ll of joy, full of gifts, full of largesse.
The ornament on the woman's bosom stirred with her breathing, shot a
million fine sparkles, and below it the spray of mistletoe rose and
fell, rose and fell.

He put his hand out and took the spray and fastened it in his
buttonhole, saying that the mistletoe was above her head.

His voice, one she had never heard, made her unwisely turn to meet his
eyes, to shake with the emotion of the adventurer trembling on the edge
of the precipice; just to hang over which, and to shudder, he has
climbed high. She put her hand out between them, holding him back.

"I've had a telegram from my husband. He's very ill. He's in Palm
Beach and I'm going over to him next week."

[Illustration: "I've had a telegram from my husband"]

Falconer's name was sovereign for breaking spells as far as Jimmy was
concerned, but the wife's phrase this time gave him only a more violent
revelation of his cruel hope. She went on:

"It's not alarming, but with a heart like Jack's, anything might
happen. It's only when I'm with him that he keeps up any sort of
shape."

The fact of his holding in his the hand that she had put out to keep
him from her, did not serve to aid in a serene continuation of her
plans, and the silence became a burden which if she did not herself
lift would crush her.

She said hurriedly: "And you will help me to go."

And then Bulstrode spoke: "No," he said, "Oh, no."

For the briefest space she yielded to what he meant and was at last
wicked enough and human enough to promise to do. But she had on this
solemn evening--for it had so been--come too far, gone up too high to
drag down all the way with him on a single word. In supremest
happiness, however, at what he said and how he said it, she gave a
little soft laugh, and although she was under the mistletoe, she felt
that she looked down on him, loving him so much more that in adorable
weakness he had suddenly grown small and dear.

"Oh, Jimmy," she whispered, "how heavenly of you, but you can't go back
on ten years in one week. You can't, you know! You've thrown me like
a giant so _far_, I've gone right on up."

Still looking at her he shook his head as she repeated: "You'll help
me, you'll help me! You can't go back!"

"I _can_ go back," he said deeply, "_on everything and everybody in the
world_."

At the frank simple words, and the sense of what they meant, at the
sound of his new voice, it was as if all the