to analyze deeply or reflect long. He removed
his coat, walked slowly down the long hallway, and entered the back
drawing-room door. Mrs. Osgood was gracefully ensconced in the corner of
a divan from the Orient, and her eyes were fixed apparently upon the
latest work of Paul Bourget. A tall, bronze lamp was at her side and its
rays were tempered by a carefully selected shade of the most becoming
tinge. The other lights were dimmed, and beyond could be seen the
subdued forms of graceful plants, while beneath her feet the yielding
fur of an Arctic bear half hid two tiny bronze-tipped slippers and just
enough of scarlet silk.

Duncan stood silently before her. Uncurbed natures are the most
capricious, and as he gazed his anger turned to admiration, and he
softly sat down beside her, took her hand, and said winningly, "Nell,
dear, let's be friends."

She pushed him away, and with a quick, proud toss of her head coldly
said, "Not till my lord Duncan has humbly sued for pardon."

"Pardon for what?"

"For intended flight to the West without permission and leave-taking."

"Am I not, then, the master of my actions?" Duncan replied in a somewhat
ruffled tone.

"Not if you expect my favor." Then, lowering her large, black eyes, and
pointing authoritatively to the floor, she continued: "Down on your
knees and confess you were attempting to act without my knowledge."

Duncan started angrily. He was nettled at the tone of authority she
assumed, so he replied: "I will do nothing of the kind. I see no reason
why my actions should be accounted to, much less pardoned by, you."

"You big, foolish fellow," she laughingly said. "You have been spoilt by
women. You expect that a declaration of independence delivered with so
much bluster will anger me. Down on your knees and ask forgiveness."

Duncan jumped to his feet and paced the floor. He was too angry to speak
at first, but he finally said in defiant tones: "I should think that my
intended departure without your being informed of it, would be
sufficient to advise you that your possible feelings on the subject were
of supreme indifference to me."

"Indeed!" she replied, carelessly tossing aside the Bourget novel. "So I
am to infer that Mr. Duncan Grahame, being weary of the woman upon whom
he has previously pretended to bestow his favors, imagines that the
easiest, and of course the most manly, way to rid himself of her is
surreptitiously to steal away and leave her to discover