ds from my husband, a sympathetic
one from his groomsman, and then found myself once more alone, with a
title and plenty of money, and--that's all."

"What was his friend's name?"

"Talbot Lowry. He lives about three miles from here, and"--with an airy
laugh--"is rather too fond of me."

"What a strange story!" says Molly, regarding her wistfully. "Do you
never wish you had married some one you loved?"

"I never do," gayly. "Don't look to me for sentiment, Molly, because I
am utterly devoid of it. I know I suffer in your estimation by this
confession, but it is the simple truth. I don't wish for anything. And
yet"--pausing suddenly--"I do. I have been wishing for something ever
since that old person down-stairs tried to take me back this morning,
and failed so egregiously."

"And your wish is----"

"That I could make my husband fall madly in love with me. Oh, Molly,
what a revenge that would be! And why should he not, indeed?" Going
over to a glass and gazing earnestly at herself. "I am pretty,--very
pretty, I think. Speak, Molly, and encourage me."

"You know you are lovely," says Molly, in such good faith that Cecil
kisses her on the spot. "But what if you should fall in love with him?"

"Perhaps I have done so long ago," her ladyship replies, in a tone
impossible to translate, being still intent on the contemplation of her
many charms. Then, quickly, "No, no, Molly, I am fire-proof."

"Yet any day you may meet some one to whom you must give your love."

"Not a bit of it. I should despise myself forever if I once found
myself letting my pulse beat half a second faster for one man than for
another."

"Do you mean to tell me you have never loved?"

"Never, never, never. And, indeed, to give myself due credit, I believe
the fact that I have a husband somewhere would utterly prevent anything
of the sort."

"That is a good thing, if the idea lasts. But won't you feel awkward in
meeting him this evening?"

"I? No, but I dare say he will; and I hope so too," says her ladyship,
maliciously. "For three long years he has never been to see whether I
were well or ill--or pining for him," laughing. "And yet, Molly, I do
feel nervous, awfully, ridiculously nervous, at the bare idea of our so
soon coming face to face.

"Is he handsome?"

"Ye--es, pretty well. Lanky sort of man, with a good deal of nose, you
know, and very little whisker. On my word, now I think of it, I don't
think he had any at all."

"Nose?"