e answered, and poured him his tincture. "You'll be
back before you can think."

He looked at himself in the mirror, surprised that his face had not been
branded by the hells of the past three months. The noise of the decks
worried him, and he lay down, his tongue only a little pressed against
his palate.

An hour later he said: "Sophie, I feel sorry about taking you away from
everything like this. I--I suppose we're the two loneliest people on
God's earth to-night."

Said Sophie his wife, and kissed him: "Isn't it something to you that
we're going together?"

They drifted about Europe for months--sometimes alone, sometimes with
chance met gipsies of their own land. From the North Cape to the Blue
Grotto at Capri they wandered, because the next steamer headed that way,
or because some one had set them on the road. The doctors had warned
Sophie that Chapin was not to take interest even in other men's
interests; but a familiar sensation at the back of the neck after one
hour's keen talk with a Nauheimed railway magnate saved her any trouble.
He nearly wept.

"And I'm over thirty," he cried. "With all I meant to do!"

"Let's call it a honeymoon," said Sophie. "D' you know, in all the six
years we've been married, you've never told me what you meant to do with
your life?"

"With my life? What's the use? It's finished now." Sophie looked up
quickly from the Bay of Naples. "As far as my business goes, I shall
have to live on my rents like that architect at San Moritz."

"You'll get better if you don't worry; and even if it rakes time, there
are worse things than--How much have you?"

"Between four and five million. But it isn't the money. You know it
isn't. It's the principle. How could you respect me? You never did, the
first year after we married, till I went to work like the others. Our
tradition and upbringing are against it. We can't accept those ideals."

"Well, I suppose I married you for some sort of ideal," she answered,
and they returned to their forty-third hotel.

In England they missed the alien tongues of Continental streets that
reminded them of their own polyglot cities. In England all men spoke one
tongue, speciously like American to the ear, but on cross-examination
unintelligible.

"Ah, but you have not seen England," said a lady with iron-grey hair.
They had met her in Vienna, Bayreuth, and Florence, and were grateful
to find her again at Claridge's, for she commanded situations, and knew
w