dresses--women always seem to. Still, we can't afford to miss an
opportunity, and it may prove a good investment," he added,
reflectively.

Millicent sighed as she took the letter, and, ignoring her husband's
words, read it through again. It had been written by a relative, a
member of the legal profession, and requested her to return at once to
England. The stern old man, who had reared her, was slowly dying, and
had expressed an urgent wish to see her.

"Isn't that the man who wanted you to marry Thurston, and when you
disappointed him washed his hands of both of you?" Leslie inquired.
"There were reasons why I hadn't the pleasure of duly making the
acquaintance of your relatives, but I think you said he was tolerably
wealthy, and, as he evidently desires a reconciliation, you must do
your best to please him. Let me see. You might catch the next New
York Cunarder or the Allan boat from Quebec."

Millicent looked up at him angrily. She was not wholly heartless, and
her kinsman had not only provided for her after her parents died in
financial difficulties, but in his own austere fashion he had been kind
to her. Accordingly, her husband's comments jarred upon her.

"I should certainly go, even if I had to travel by Colonist car and
steerage," she declared. "I should do so if there were no hope of
financial benefit, which is, after all, very uncertain, for Anthony
Thurston is not the man to change his mind when he has once come to a
determination. The fact that he is dying and asks for me is
sufficient--though it is perhaps useless to expect you to believe it."

"We must all die some day," was the abstracted answer. "Hardly an
original observation, is it? But it would be folly to let such a
chance pass, and I must try to spare you. If you really feel it, I
sympathize with you, and had no intention of wounding your
sensibilities, but as, unfortunately, circumstances force us to
consider these questions practically, you will--well, you will do your
best with the old man, Millicent. To put it so, you owe a duty to me."

Leslie and his wife had by this time learned to see each other's real
self, naked and stripped of all disguise, and the sight was not
calculated to inspire either with superfluous delicacy. The man,
however, overlooked the fact that his partner in life still clung to a
last grace of sentiment, and could, on occasion, deceive herself.

"I owe you a duty! How have you discharged yours to