f-embarrassed, half-doubtful shake of the
head! In the darkened room, with the throb of the sea and the crackling
of the lop in his ears, and only Robert's silent form for company, he
felt a sudden craving for the things of his youth, for another side of
life, the restaurants, the bright eyes of women, the whispered words of
pleasant sentiment, the perfume shaken into the atmosphere they created,
the low music in the background "I beg your pardon, sir," Robert said in
his ear, "your soup. Gertrude has taken such pains with the dinner,
sir," he added diffidently. "If I might take the liberty of suggesting
it, it would be as well if you could eat something." Tallente took up
his spoon. Then they both started, they both turned to the window. A
light had flashed into the room, a low, purring sound came from outside.

"A car, sir!" Robert exclaimed, his face full of pleasurable
anticipation. "If you'll excuse me, I'll answer the door. Might it be
the lady, after all, sir?" He hurried out. Tallente rose slowly to his
feet. He was listening intently. The thing wasn't possible, he told
himself. It wasn't possible! Then he heard a voice in the hall.
Robert threw the door open and announced in a tone of triumph--

"Lady Jane Partington, sir."

She came towards him, smiling, self-possessed, but a little
interrogative. He had a lightning-like impression of her beautiful
shoulders rising from her plain black gown, her delightfully easy walk,
the slimness and comeliness and stateliness of her.

"I know that I ought to be ashamed of myself for coming after I had told
you I couldn't," she said. "It will serve me right if you've eaten all
the dinner, but I do hope you haven't."

"I had only just sat down," he told her, as he and Robert held her
chair, "and I think that this is the kindest action you ever performed
in your life."

Robert, his face glowing with satisfaction, had become ubiquitous. She
had scarcely subsided into her chair before he was offering her a
cocktail on a silver tray, serving Tallente with his forgotten glass, at
the sideboard ladling out soup, out of the room and in again, bringing
back the rejected bottle of champagne.

"You will never believe that I am a sane person again," she laughed.
"After you had gone, and all those foolish children had departed, I felt
it was quite impossible to sit down and dine alone. I wanted so much to
come and I realised how ridiculous it was of me not to have accepted at
onc