glad--we shall
all be glad-to have you back; but you are a wicked man." She felt she
must say that.

Now he only nodded, and still looked at the portrait. "Where is--my
wife?" he added presently.

"She is in the ballroom." Marion was wondering what was best to do.

He caught his thumb-nail in his teeth. He winced in spite of himself. "I
will go to her," he said, "and then--the baby."

"I am glad," she replied, "that you have so much sense of justice left,
Frank: the wife first, the baby afterwards. But do you think you deserve
either?"

He became moody, and made an impatient gesture. "Lady Agnes Martling is
here, and also Lady Haldwell," she persisted cruelly. She did not mind,
because she knew he would have enough to compensate him afterwards.

"Marion," he said, "say it all, and let me have it over. Say what you
like, and I'll not whimper. I'll face it. But I want to see my child."

She was sorry for him. She had really wanted to see how much he was
capable of feeling in the matter.

"Wait here, Frank," she said. "That will be best; and I will bring your
wife to you."

He said nothing, but assented with a motion of the hand, and she left
him where he was. He braced himself for the interview. Assuredly a man
loses something of natural courage and self-confidence when he has done
a thing of which he should be, and is, ashamed.

It seemed a long time (it was in reality but a couple of minutes) before
the door opened again, and Marion said: "Frank, your wife!" and then
retreated.

The door closed, leaving a stately figure standing just inside it. The
figure did not move forwards, but stood there, full of life and fine
excitement, but very still also.

Frank Armour was confounded. He came forwards slowly, looking hard.
Was this distinguished, handsome, reproachful woman his wife--Lali, the
Indian girl, whom he had married in a fit of pique and brandy? He could
hardly believe his eyes; and yet hers looked out at him with something
that he remembered too, together with something which he did not
remember, making him uneasy. Clearly, his great mistake had turned from
ashes into fruit. "Lali!" he said, and held out his hand.

She reached out hers courteously, but her fingers gave him no response.

"We have many things to say to each other," she said, "but they cannot
be said now. I shall be missed from the ballroom."

"Missed from the ballroom!" He almost laughed to think how strange this
sounded in his ears