o more living in the clouds! It was time, indeed, that he
lived as other men. He lifted one of the glasses to his lips and drained
its contents.

Then the bell rang. He moved forward to answer its summons with beating
heart. As he opened it, he received a shock. A messenger-boy stood
outside. He took the note which the boy handed him and tore it open
under the lamp. There were only a few lines:

John, my heart is breaking, but I know you do not mean what you
said. I know it was only a moment of madness with you. I know
you will love Louise all your life, and will bless me all your
life because I am giving up the one thing which could make my
life a paradise. I shall be in the train when you read this, on
my way to Bath. I have wired my young man, as you call him, to
meet me. I am going to ask him to marry me, if he will, next
week.

Good-by! I give you no advice. Some day I think that life will
right itself with you.

SOPHY.

The letter dropped upon the table. John stood for a moment dazed.
Suddenly he began to laugh. Then he remembered the messenger-boy, gave
him half a crown, and closed the door. He came back into the room and
took his place at the table. He looked at the empty chair by his side,
looked at the full glass on the sideboard. It seemed to him that he was
past all sensations. The waiter came in silently.

"You can serve the dinner," John ordered, shaking out his napkin. "Open
the champagne before you go."

"You will be alone, sir?" the man inquired.

"I shall be alone," John answered.

XXXVIII

It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the green logs that
burned on the open hearth, and for the slow movements of Jennings as he
cleared the table. Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper by
his side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. Opposite to him,
almost as grim, equally silent, sat John.

"Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, John?" Stephen asked
at last.

"There was nothing doing," was the brief reply.

That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, was the sole attempt
at conversation between the two brothers. Then Jennings appeared with a
decanter of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. Stephen
held his up to the light and looked at it critically. John's remained by
his side, unnoticed.

"A glas