should be further interested in Barker for himself alone, and
did not urge him to stay. As he departed she turned to her husband, and,
indicating the group he had passed the moment before, said:--

"That horrid woman has been staring at us all the time. I don't see what
you see in her to admire."

Poor Barker's admiration had been limited to a few words of civility in
the enforced contact of that huge caravansary and in his quiet, youthful
recognition of her striking personality. But he was just then too
preoccupied with his interview with Stacy to reply, and perhaps he did
not quite understand his wife. It was odd how many things he did not
quite understand now about Kitty, but that he knew must be HIS fault.
But Mrs. Barker apparently did not require, after the fashion of her
sex, a reply. For the next moment, as they moved towards their rooms,
she said impatiently, "Well, you don't tell what Stacy said. Did you get
the money?"

I grieve to say that this soul of truth and frankness lied--only to his
wife. Perhaps he considered it only lying to HIMSELF, a thing of which
he was at times miserably conscious. "It wasn't necessary, dear," he
said; "he advised me to sell my securities in the bank; and if you only
knew how dreadfully busy he is."

Mrs. Barker curled her pretty lip. "It doesn't take very long to lend
ten thousand dollars!" she said. "But that's what I always tell you.
You have about made me sick by singing the praises of those wonderful
partners of yours, and here you ask a favor of one of them and he tells
you to sell your securities! And you know, and he knows, they're worth
next to nothing."

"You don't understand, dear"--began Barker.

"I understand that you've given your word to poor Harry," said
Mrs. Barker in pretty indignation, "who's responsible for the Ditch
purchase."

"And I shall keep it. I always do," said Barker very quietly, but with
that same singular expression of face that had puzzled Stacy. But
Mrs. Barker, who, perhaps, knew her husband better, said in an altered
voice:--

"But HOW can you, dear?"

"If I'm short a thousand or two I'll ask your father."

Mrs. Barker was silent. "Father's so very much harried now, George. Why
don't you simply throw the whole thing up?"

"But I've given my word to your cousin Henry."

"Yes, but only your WORD. There was no written agreement. And you
couldn't even hold him to it."

Barker opened his frank eyes in astonishment. Her own cousin