she tell you why?"

"She says that you are her sister, that you have no money of your own
and that your husband has left you," Tavernake answered, deliberately.

"Is that all?"

"No, it is not all," he continued. "As to the rest, she told me nothing
definite. It is quite clear, however, that she is very anxious to keep
away from you."

"But her reason?" Elizabeth persisted. "Did she give you no reason?"

Tavernake looked her in the face.

"She gave me no reason," he said.

"Do you believe that she is justified in treating me like this?"
Elizabeth asked, playing nervously with a pendant which hung from her
smooth, bare neck.

"Of course I do," he replied. "I am quite sure that she would not
feel as she does unless you had been guilty of something very terrible
indeed."

The woman on the couch winced as though some one had struck her. A more
susceptible man than Tavernake must have felt a little remorseful at the
tears which dimmed for a moment her beautiful eyes. Tavernake, however,
although he felt a moment's uneasiness, although he felt himself
assailed all the time by a curious new emotion which he utterly failed
to understand, was nevertheless still immune. The things which were to
happen to him had not yet, arrived.

"Of course," he continued, "I was very much disappointed to hear this,
because I had hoped that we might have been able to let Grantham House
to you. We cannot consider the matter at all now unless you pay for
everything in advance."

She uncovered her eyes and looked at him. People so direct of speech as
this had come very seldom into her life. She was conscious of a thrill
of interest. The study of men was a passion with her. Here was indeed a
new type!

"So you think that I am an adventuress," she murmured.

He reflected for a moment.

"I suppose," he admitted, "that it comes to that. I should not have
returned at all if I had not promised. If there is any message which you
wish me to give your sister, I will take it, but I cannot tell you her
address."

She laid her hand suddenly upon his, and raising herself a little on the
couch, leaned towards him. Her eyes and her lips both pleaded with him.

"Mr. Tavernake," she said slowly, "Beatrice is such a dear, obstinate
creature, but she does not quite appreciate my position. Do me a favor,
please. If you have promised not to give me her address let me at least
know some way or some place in which I could come across her. I am sure