hour."

Blandford knew little of horseflesh, but like all men he was not
superior to this implied compliment to his knowledge. He resigned
himself to his companion as he had been in the habit of doing, and
Demorest hurried the horse at a rapid gait down the street until they
left the lamps behind, and were fully on the dark turnpike. The sleet
rattled against the hood and leathern apron of the buggy, gusts of
fierce wind filled the vehicle and seemed to hold it back, but Demorest
did not appear to mind it. Blandford thrust his hands deeply into
his pockets for warmth, and contracted his shoulders as if in dogged
patience. Yet, in spite of the fact that he was tired, cold, and anxious
to see his wife, he was conscious of a secret satisfaction in submitting
to the caprices of this old friend of his boyhood. After all, Dick
Demorest knew what he was about, and had never led him astray by his
autocratic will. It was safe to let Dick have his way. It was true it
was generally Dick's own way--but he made others think it was theirs
too--or would have been theirs had they had the will and the knowledge
to project it. He looked up comfortably at the handsome, resolute
profile of the man who had taken selfish possession of him. Many women
had done the same.

"Suppose if you were to tell your wife I was going to reform," said
Demorest, "it might be different, eh? She'd want to take me into the
church--'another sinner saved,' and all that, eh?"

"No," said Blandford, earnestly. "Joan isn't as rigid as all that, Dick.
What she's got against you is the common report of your free way of
living, and that--come now, you know yourself, Dick, that isn't exactly
the thing a woman brought up in her style can stand. Why, she thinks
I'm unregenerate, and--well, a man can't carry on business always like a
class meeting. But are you thinking of reforming?" he continued, trying
to get a glimpse of his companion's eyes.

"Perhaps. It depends. Now--there's a woman I know--"

"What, another? and you call this going to reform?" interrupted
Blandford, yet not without a certain curiosity in his manner.

"Yes; that's just why I think of reforming. For this one isn't exactly
like any other--at least as far as I know."

"That means you don't know anything about her."

"Wait, and I'll tell you." He drew the reins tightly to accelerate the
horse's speed, and, half turning to his companion, without, however,
moving his eyes from the darkness before