ily. "You
ought to be ashamed of yourself. Really, I've no patience with you!
Such base ingratitude after all he has done for us! And so uncalled
for! If ever there was a model husband--"

"You don't say so!" he interrupted with a sneer.

There was something peculiar about her husband's manner that made
Fanny look at him more closely.

"What do you mean?" she demanded uneasily.

He grinned.

"Who told you that he was a model husband? Did Virginia ever say so?"

Fanny stared at him, not understanding.

"She never said he wasn't," she stammered.

He chuckled.

"Say--but you women are easy marks! Of course she didn't. A girl with
Virginia's spirit doesn't like to confess she's made a mess of it. I
guess she knows well enough by this time that her model husband is not
all that he should be, that he goes on periodical sprees and is apt to
come home any night dead drunk. All New York knows it."

Speechless with astonishment and consternation, Fanny stood still,
staring at her husband. Could this be true? Was Virginia unhappy, had
they made a mistake, after all? Now she came to think of it, she
recalled some peculiar remarks dropped by her sister from time to
time; there had been days when she was strangely depressed, as if she
lived in fear of something or someone. Was it possible that Robert was
not the man he seemed? Virginia had never even hinted at such a thing
directly, but one day, she remembered, her sister had brought up the
subject whether it was a woman's duty to go on living with a husband
after she had ceased to respect him.

For some days after Jimmie's revelation at the breakfast table, Fanny
went about her little flat listless and discouraged. Her usual high
spirits had gone; she felt nervous and ill at ease. If Virginia was
unhappy it was she alone who was responsible. She had encouraged the
match and really persuaded her sister into it. The very first
opportunity she would find out herself if there was any truth in the
story.

CHAPTER XII

The blow had fallen upon Virginia with the unexpectedness and
appalling swiftness of a bolt from the blue. From a tranquil state of
contentment and comparative happiness she suddenly awoke to the fact
that she had made a terrible mistake, and when she realized the full
significance of her misfortune, she sank nerveless on to a sofa in her
boudoir and gave way to a wild outburst of hysterical tears. What
could her life be henceforth? How could she h