furious, but with a volcano
in her breast that threatened eruption and devastation shortly. "Will
you let me go, Captain Carey? Or must I call my servants to my
assistance? I have only servants now."

"Yes, yes"--and he released one hand--"I will, if you'll say you
forgive me, Francie. I've made an awful mess of it, I know--"

They rose together, and the other hand was freed. It was the right
hand, and she returned it to him immediately.

"Good-bye!" she said, between clenched teeth.

He held her tightly once more.

"May I come and see you again? May I write? I can say it better in
writing."

"You have said all that needs to be said. There is no necessity to
write. If you write to me, I shall return the letter unopened."

"But why? It is surely absurd for us to put on airs of dignity with one
another. Francie, you don't mean us to part like this?"

She stepped quickly across the hearthrug and, with a passionate
gesture, pressed the button of the bell--evidently to summon Willis to
show him out. So he took up his hat, offended in his turn, and for the
first time feeling fairly easy in his mind as to the way he was
treating her. But the tragedy of the moment was turned to vulgar comedy
by her alarm at the fact that she had struck the bell before relighting
the pink lamps.

"Oh, where are the matches?" she whispered excitedly. "I can't find
them."

"Here--here!" he cried, fumbling for his own pocket box.

And their flurried hands got mixed as she turned the taps while he
applied the light to the burners.

The instant after they had restored the room to its normal condition,
the butler appeared. Mrs Ewing turned to him with the amazing
self-possession of a woman accustomed to extricate herself at a
moment's notice from an awkward fix.

"Willis," she said sweetly--and even smiled as she spoke--"will you
please have a cab fetched for Captain Carey? He is rather late for a
dinner engagement." The butler acknowledged the order and withdrew. In
the light of the pink lamps the late combatants looked strangely at one
another.

"And you would have married MARY!" the woman commented upon the issue
of the fight. It was both a taunt and an accusation.

The man lifted his brows questioningly, as at a loss to comprehend her
meaning.

"Has that anything to do with it?' he asked. 'I don't see the
connection."

The sentences were short, but signified many things.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Frances Ewing was a shady