disagreeable. But at the same time she was so
manifestly in need of sympathetic companionship, and allowed such sad
glimpses into her own wrecked life, that Cecily could not reject her,
nor even feel with actual coldness.

"Have you been home long?" the visitor asked, as they shook hands.

"A few hours only."

"Indeed? You have arrived to-day?"

They sat down. Mrs. Travis fixed her eyes on Cecily.

"I hardly hoped to find you."

"I should have let you know that I was back."

Their conversations were accustomed to begin awkwardly, constrainedly.
They never spoke of ordinary topics, and each seemed to wait for a
suggestion of the other's mood. At present Cecily was uneasy under her
visitor's gaze, which was stranger and more inquisitive than usual.

"So you have left the Denyers'?" she said.

"From whom did you hear?"

"I have just had a note from Zillah Denyer, about Madeline. She merely
mentions that you are no longer there."

"I ought to go and see them; but I can't to-day."

"Have you been in London all the time?"

"Yes.--I have gone back to my husband."

It was spoken in a matter-of-fact tone (obviously assumed) which was
very incongruous with the feeling it excited in Cecily. She could not
hear the announcement without an astonished look.

"Of your own free will?" she asked, in a diffident voice. "Oh yes. That
is to say, he persuaded me."

Their eyes met, and Cecily had an impulse of distrust, more decided
than she had ever felt. She could not find anything to say, and by
keeping silence she hoped the interview might be shortened.

"You are disposed to feel contempt for me," Mrs. Travis added, after a
few moments.

"No one can judge another in such things. It is your own affair, Mrs.
Travis."

"Yes, but you despise me for my weakness, naturally you do. Had you no
suspicion that it would end again in this way?"

"I simply believed what you told me."

"That nothing would induce me to return to him. That is how women talk,
you know. We are all very much the same."

Again Cecily kept silence. Mrs. Travis, observing her, saw an offended
look rise to her face.

"I mean, we are few of us, us women, strong enough to hold out against
natural and social laws. We feel indignant, we suffer more than men can
imagine, but we have to yield. But it is true that most women are wise
enough not to act in my way. You are quite right to despise me."

"Why do you repeat that? It is possible you are acting