feeds on novelty; he passes from experience to
experience--liberal pleasures of mind and sense all the way. Well, he
tires of Egypt and its flesh-pots. He has seen as he hurried on--I hope
I am not growing too picturesque--too much of women, too many men. He
has been unwise--most men are. Perhaps he has been more than unwise; he
has made a great mistake, a social mistake--or crime--less or more.
If it is a small one, the remedy is not so difficult. Money, friends,
adroitness, absence, long retirement, are enough. If a great one, and he
is sensitive--and sated--he flies, he seeks seclusion. He is afflicted
with remorse. He is open to the convincing pleasures of the simple and
unadorned life; he is satisfied with simple people. The snuff of the
burnt candle of enjoyment he calls regret, repentance. He gives himself
the delights of introspection, and wishes he were a child again--yes,
indeed it is so, dear Miss Devlin."

Ruth sat regarding her, her deep eyes glowing. Mrs. Falchion continued:
"In short, he finds the bandbox, as you call it, suited to his
renunciations. Its simplicities, which he thinks is regeneration, are
only new sensations. But--you have often noticed the signification of
a 'but,'" she added, smiling, tapping her cheek lightly with the ivory
knife--"but the hour arrives when the bandbox becomes a prison, when
the simple hours cloy. Then the ordinary incident is merely gauche, and
expiation a bore.

"I see by your face that you understand quite what I mean.... Well,
these things occasionally happen. The great mistake follows the man,
and, by a greater misery, breaks the misery of the bandbox; or the man
himself, hating his captivity, becomes reckless, does some mad thing,
and has a miserable end. Or again, some one who holds the key to his
mistake comes in from the world he has left, and considers--considers,
you understand!--whether to leave him to work out his servitude, or,
mercifully--if he is not altogether blind--permit him the means of
escape to his old world, to the life to which he was born--away from
the bandbox and all therein.... I hope I have not tired you--I am sure I
have."

Ruth saw the full meaning of Mrs. Falchion's words. She realised
that her happiness, his happiness--everything--was at stake. All Mrs.
Falchion's old self was battling with her new self. She had determined
to abide by the result of this meeting. She had spoken in a half gay
tone, but her words were not everything; th