e; that he
had not been honest with himself, and that all the time beneath his great
scheme had lain the belief that when the truth was known Christine would
prefer him and his moderate income to Linburne and his wealth; that, in
short, the great scheme had been all the time not a method of freeing
himself, but a test of her affection.

Now any such possibility was over. Now he himself was facing the problem
of mere existence--at least he would be as soon as he had collected his
wits enough to face anything.

The next day, which was Sunday, he spent entirely with his lawyer. When
he came back to his hotel, between the entrance and the elevator a figure
rose in his path. It was Hickson.

"Riatt, I'm awfully sorry about this," he said.

"Thank you, Hickson. It's very decent of you to be," Max answered as
cordially as he could, but he was tired and wanted to be let alone, and
there was not as much real gratitude in his heart as there should have
been. He did not ask Ned to sit down until he had explained with his
accustomed simplicity that he had something of importance to say. Then
Riatt let him lead the way to one of those remote and stuffy
sitting-rooms in which all hotels abound. He saw at once that Hickson
found it difficult to say what he had come to say, but Riatt was in no
humor this time to help him out.

"I'm awfully sorry this has happened," Hickson went on, "not only on your
account, but on Christine's. I mean that I did begin to hope that life
with you meant peace and happiness for her--"

To cut him short, Riatt said quickly: "Now, of course, the marriage is
out of the question."

Hickson's face brightened, as if the difficult words had been said for
him. "You do feel that?" he said, nodding a little as if to encourage
his friend.

Max did not answer at first in words; he laughed rather bitterly, and
then after a pause he said, "Yes, Hickson, I do."

Ned was clearly relieved. "Of course," he said, "I did not know how that
would be. But I own it did occur to me. The world is very censorious of
poor Christine. Every one will say that she is the kind of woman who
can't stick to a man in adversity. Yes, I assure you, Riatt, lots of
these women who can't put down one of their motors without having nervous
prostration will pillory Christine for breaking her engagement,
unless--" he paused.

"I don't follow your idea, Ned."

Hickson sighed. "Why, as long as you recognize the impossibility of the
marri