ebody who
takes it seriously. It's only humbug, anyway; you know that, don't you,
Shiela?"

He untwisted the paper in his hand and held it in the candle flame until
it burned to cinders.

"What was there on that paper?" asked Shiela, managing to control her
voice.

"Why, merely a suggestion that I travel," he said coolly. "I can't see
why my sister should make a fool of herself over the idea of my going on
a journey. I've meant to, for years--to rest myself. I've told you that
often, haven't I, Shiela?"

She nodded slowly, but her eyes reverted to the woman crouching in the
chair, face buried in her brilliantly jewelled hands. Portlaw and
Tressilvain were also staring at her.

"You'd better go to bed, Helen," said Malcourt coolly; and turned on his
heel, lighting a cigarette.

A little later the Tressilvains and Shiela started across the lawn to
their own apartments, and Malcourt went with them to hold an umbrella
over his wife.

In the lower hall they separated with scarcely a word, but Malcourt
detained his brother-in-law by a significant touch on the arm, and drew
him into the library.

"So you're leaving to-morrow?" he asked.

"What?" said Tressilvain.

"I say that I understand you and Helen are leaving us to-morrow."

"I had not thought of leaving," said Tressilvain.

"Think again," suggested Malcourt.

"What do you mean?"

Malcourt walked up very close and looked him in the face.

"Must I explain?" he asked contemptuously. "I will if you like--you
clumsy card-slipping, ace-pricking blackguard!... The station-wagon will
be ready at seven. See that you are, too. Now go and tell my sister. It
may reconcile her to various ideas of mine."

And he turned and, walking to a leather-covered chair drawn up beside
the library table, seated himself and opened a heavy book.

Tressilvain stood absolutely still, his close-set eyes fairly starting
from his face, in which not a vestige of colour now remained; and when
at length he left the room he left so noiselessly that Malcourt did not
hear him. However, Malcourt happened to be very intent upon his own
train of thought, so absorbed, in fact, that it was a long while before
he looked up and around, as though somebody had suddenly spoken his
name.

But it was only the voice which had sounded so often and familiarly in
his ears; and he smiled and inclined his graceful head to listen,
folding his hands under his chin.

He seemed very young and boyish, the