with a _gentleman_.'

The remark sounded surprising to Mrs. Strangeways.

'I'm so glad you have quite got over your annoyance, dear,' she replied.

'It was as bad for you as for me, under the circumstances. But I'm sure
Mr. Redgrave won't give it another thought.'

And Alma chatted very pleasantly all the way back to town, where she
dined with Mrs. Strangeways. At eleven o'clock she reached home. Her
husband, who was recovering from a sore throat, sat pipeless and in no
very cheerful mood by the library fire; but the sight of Alma's radiant
countenance had its wonted effect upon him; he stretched his arms, as
if to rouse himself from a long fit of reverie, and welcomed her in a
voice that was a little husky.

'Well, how did it go?'

'Not badly, I think. And how have you been getting on, poor old boy?'

'So so; swearing a little because I couldn't smoke. But Hughie has a
cold tonight; caught mine, I dare say, confound it! Miss Smith took
counsel with me about it, and we doctored him a little.'

'Poor dear little man! I wish I had been back in time to see him. But
there was no getting away--had to stay to dinner----'

Alma had not the habit of telling falsehoods to her husband, but she
did it remarkably well--even better, perhaps, than when she deceived
her German friend, Fraulein Steinfeld, in the matter of Cyrus
Redgrave's proposal; the years had matured her, endowing her with
superior self-possession, and a finish of style in dealing with these
little difficulties. She was unwilling to say that she had dined in
Porchester Terrace, for Harvey entertained something of a prejudice
against that household. His remoteness nowadays from the world in which
Alma amused herself made it quite safe to venture on a trifling
misstatement.

'I have a note from Carnaby,' said Rolfe. 'He wants to see me in town
tomorrow. Says he has good news--"devilish good news", to be accurate.
I wonder what it is.'

'The lawsuit won, perhaps.'

'Afraid not; that'll take a few more years. Odd thing, I have another
letter--from Cecil Morphew, and he, too, says that he has something
hopeful to tell me about.'

Alma clapped her hands, an unusual expression of joy for her. 'We are
cheering up all round!' she exclaimed. 'Now, if only _you_ could light
on something fortunate.'

He gave her a quick look.

'What do you mean by that?'

'Only that you haven't seemed in very good spirits lately.'

'Much as usual, I think.--Many people at