of it, longed for freedom in a garret, and now he
associated it with no thrill of pride or pleasure, but with boredom,
depression, quarrels and lack of liberty. Liberty! Ah! That was it; that
was what he felt more than anything else. He had married for money
chiefly to _get_ liberty. One was a slave, always in debt--but it was
much worse now. The master of the house lost all his vitality, gaiety
and air of command the moment he came into the hall.

"Where's Mrs. Hillier?"

"Mrs. Hillier is in the boudoir, sir."

The boudoir was a little pink and blue Louis Seize room on the ground
floor, opposite the dining-room. From the window Mary could watch for
Nigel. That was what she always did. She hardly ever did anything else.
Few women were so independent of such aids to idleness as light
literature (how heavy it generally is!), newspapers, needlework or a
piano. Few people indeed had such a concentrated interest in one
subject. She was sitting in an arm-chair, with folded hands, looking out
of the window. It was a point of vantage, whence she could see Nigel
arrive more quickly than from anywhere else.

As soon as he caught the first glimpse of her at the window it began to
get on his nerves. It was maddening to be waited for. ...

"You're five minutes late," she said abruptly, as he came in. She always
spoke abruptly, even when she wanted to be most amiable. He was
determined not to be bad-tempered, and smiled good-naturedly.

"Am I? So sorry." He was very quick and rapid in every word and
movement, but soft and suave--never blunt, as she was.

"Where have you been?"

"I went to look at those pictures in Bond Street," he replied, without a
moment's hesitation.

He had come straight from seeing Bertha--on the subject of Madeline and
Rupert--but he never thought of telling her that.

"Oh! Why didn't you take _me_?"

"I really don't know. I didn't think of it, I suppose. We'll go another
day."

He sat down opposite her and began to smoke a cigarette, having
permission always. She sat staring at him with clasped hands and eager
eyes.

Bertha's description of her as having flat red hair, a receding chin and
long ear-rings was impressionistically accurate. It was what one noticed
most. Mrs. Hillier was plain, and not at all pleasant-looking, though
she had a pretty figure, looked young, and might have been made
something of if she had had charm. There was something eager, sharp and
yet depressed about her, that