had rung hollow. Yet, in spite of
his strict upbringing and the knowledge of danger, he had come to the
psychological point when Opportunity was certain to make him a thief,
for the memory of those kisses burned fiercely. He was as one who, by
steeping himself in the vice of intoxication, begets a craving for
alcohol, and he felt that his powers of resistance were on the wane. His
cherished "ideal" was forgotten, and her portrait reposed face downward
among envelopes and papers in his dispatch-box, while he kept out of
Mrs. Meredith's way and neglected Honor Bright.

"Jack's not the same man," Tommy confided to Honor. "He eats little and
talks less. That woman will bring him to grief. I'd cheerfully shoot
her."

"What's the matter with Jack?" Honor asked, surprised. "What does he
admire in her? I have no patience with him."

"I don't know that he admires her. It's an infatuation. She has cast a
spell over him somehow, since the night he dined with her alone, and he
can't resist it. She writes to him almost every day."

"And he answers her notes?"

"Of course."

"Jack is weak. I simply have no use for such weakness," said Honor
contemptuously. "There is more hope for the villain who is deliberately
bad than for the wobbly wretch who hasn't the strength to resist
temptation. When the one repents, he is at least sincere; the other can
never be depended upon to repent sincerely."

"I never heard that before," grinned Tommy. "You would rather have Jack
sin deliberately with his eyes open than fail in his efforts to keep
straight?"

"I have no patience for 'failures.' One could be angry with him for
sinning deliberately, but hardly contemptuous. As it is, I have no
opinion of Jack."

Tommy made no complaint, for it was all to his own advantage. Though he
was fond of Jack he had always regarded him as a dangerous rival, who so
far had been merciful in not exerting his fascinations upon the only
girl in their small circle at Muktiarbad. Since he was such a fool as to
prefer dangling after a married woman, ten years his senior, his blood
be on his own head.

One evening, a few days later, Mrs. Fox discovered Jack Darling alone in
the billiard-room knocking about the balls while waiting for someone to
join him in a game. The rules of the Muktiarbad Club were lenient
towards the ladies, who thus enjoyed privileges denied to them at larger
stations. Mrs. Fox was therefore free to enter, and Jack was obliged to
submit