efore to-day?" said Cheesacre, nodding his head at the
doorway through which Bellfield had passed.

"Who? The Captain? Oh dear no. The Captain don't come here much
now;--not to say often, by no means."

"He's a confounded rascal."

"Oh, Mr Cheesacre!" said Jeannette.

"He is;--and I ain't sure that there ain't others nearly as bad as he
is."

"If you mean me, Mr Cheesacre, I do declare you're a wronging me; I
do indeed."

"What's the meaning of his going on in this way?"

"I don't know nothing of his ways, Mr Cheesacre; but I've been as
true to you, sir;--so I have;--as true as true." And Jeannette put
her handkerchief up to her eyes.

He moved to the door, and then a thought occurred to him. He put his
hand to his trousers pocket, and turning back towards the girl, gave
her half-a-crown. She curtsied as she took it, and then repeated her
last words. "Yes, Mr Cheesacre,--as true as true." Mr Cheesacre said
nothing further, but followed his enemy up to the drawing-room. "What
game is up now, I wonder," said Jeannette to herself, when she was
left alone. "They two'll be cutting each other's throatses before
they've done, and then my missus will take the surwiver." But she
made up her mind that Cheesacre should be the one to have his throat
cut fatally, and that Bellfield should be the survivor.

Cheesacre, when he reached the drawing-room, found Bellfield sitting
on the same sofa with Mrs Greenow looking at a book of photographs
which they both of them were handling together. The outside rim of
her widow's frill on one occasion touched the Captain's whisker, and
as it did so the Captain looked up with a gratified expression of
triumph. If any gentleman has ever seen the same thing under similar
circumstances, he will understand that Cheesacre must have been
annoyed.

"Yes," said Mrs Greenow, waving her handkerchief, of which little but
a two-inch-deep border seemed to be visible. Bellfield knew at once
that it was not the same handkerchief which she had waved before they
went down to dinner. "Yes,--there he is. It's so like him." And then
she apostrophized the _carte de visite_ of the departed one. "Dear
Greenow; dear husband! When my spirit is false to thee, let thine
forget to visit me softly in my dreams. Thou wast unmatched among
husbands. Whose tender kindness was ever equal to thine? whose sweet
temper was ever so constant? whose manly care so all-sufficient?"
While the words fell from her lips her lit