ogre's
castle! I shall never dare to face them again."

She laughed, well pleased at his words.

"I shall not be late," she said. "I shall be so anxious to get back and
see how my boy has behaved. If you have not been good I shan't go
again."

They kissed and parted, and at eleven she returned to the room. She told
him what a delightful evening it had been, and bragged a little of her
own success.

The nurse told her that he had been more cheerful that evening than for
many nights.

So every day the farce was played for him. One day it was to a luncheon
that she went, in a costume by Redfern; the next night to a ball, in a
frock direct from Paris; again to an "At Home," or concert, or dinner-
party. Loafers and passers-by would stop to stare at a haggard, red-eyed
woman, dressed as for a drawing-room, slipping thief-like in and out of
her own door.

I heard them talking of her one afternoon, at a house where I called, and
I joined the group to listen.

"I always thought her heartless, but I gave her credit for sense," a
woman was saying. "One doesn't expect a woman to be fond of her husband,
but she needn't make a parade of ignoring him when he is dying."

I pleaded absence from town to inquire what was meant, and from all lips
I heard the same account. One had noticed her carriage at the door two
or three evenings in succession. Another had seen her returning home. A
third had seen her coming out, and so on.

I could not fit the fact in with my knowledge of her, so the next evening
I called. The door was opened instantly by herself.

"I saw you from the window," she said. "Come in here; don't speak."

I followed her, and she closed the door behind her. She was dressed in a
magnificent costume, her hair sparkling with diamonds, and I looked my
questions.

She laughed bitterly.

"I am supposed to be at the opera to-night," she explained. "Sit down,
if you have a few minutes to spare."

I said it was for a talk that I had come; and there, in the dark room,
lighted only by the street lamp without, she told me all. And at the end
she dropped her head on her bare arms; and I turned away and looked out
of the window for a while.

"I feel so ridiculous," she said, rising and coming towards me. "I sit
here all the evening dressed like this. I'm afraid I don't act my part
very well; but, fortunately, dear Billy never was much of a judge of art,
and it is good enough for him. I tell him the m