alluring charms of suicide.

"No doubt, when you are old and ugly. But at present life is what you
have got to consider, my dear."

"Life and buttered buns," replies Eleanor drily, as Mrs. Mounteagle
hands the dish. "No, thank you, Giddy. I don't want any tea."

Her voice trembles with agitation, as Carol, who has never taken his
eyes off her, draws a little nearer.

"If you won't eat anything, dear," murmurs Giddy, "at least you must
drink something just to settle your nerves. Suction is so much more
romantic than mastication."

But Eleanor shakes her head.

"I am going to play peacemaker," declares Mrs. Mounteagle, "and leave
you two to make it up. I have an important letter to write, which must
catch the half-past five post. You owe Carol an apology, and that is
always difficult in the presence of a third party."

Eleanor is about to demur, when she catches Mr. Quinton's expression,
and his look withers the words on her tongue, and forces them back.

She only stammers, "Don't be long," and collapses into silence.

Giddy's important letter is addressed to the Fur Store. She orders the
muff.

* * * * *

If things have been going badly at "Lyndhurst" before the day on which
Philip makes his fatal error, they do not bear comparison with the bad
times that follow.

Even Erminie's sweet influence cannot bring peace to the
ill-conditioned home. True she does her best, coming frequently, and
spending long days in Eleanor's society. But though Mrs. Roche
entertains her charmingly, she refuses to discuss Philip, and flees
from good advice with the clever tact that can conceal rudeness and yet
repel in a breath.

"I don't know why," says Philip one day, in confidence to Erminie, "but
though I do all in my power to win back my wife's love, it seems I have
lost it for ever."

Erminie knows the reason, and so does he, only he dares not own it.

"She has tried me a good deal at times," he continues, "yet I love her
just as madly, and that is what makes me seem to her fiendishly cruel
occasionally, when the spirit of jealousy robs me of reason. I can't
bear it, Erminie, to see her restless and dissatisfied in my presence,
to feel her shudder from my kiss. An insurmountable barrier is rising
between us. Can you guess what it is?"

"Yes."

Erminie's answer startles Philip.

"Then, you, too, have noticed--all the world sees it? That man who is
trying to steal my wife from m