, as though ashamed of
the outburst, he affected a little laugh and dropped back into the
conventional. Presently he rose and took his polar-eyes away. When he
had gone Eden smiled again. "He may have the genius of finance," she
mused, "but he has the genius of love as well."

III.

Eden had but recently returned to town and the claims of mantua-makers
and milliners were oppressive. They took her time, they came to her in
the morning, and she, with the courtesy of kings, returned the visit in
the afternoon. But to little purpose. They were vexatious people, she
discovered. They deceived her wantonly. They promised and did not
fulfill. The live-long day they had irritated her, they had obtained her
confidence by false pretences, and now, after a round of interviews each
more profitless than the last, on reaching her house the dust of shops
was on her mantle, and she could have gone in a corner and sworn.

Moreover it was late, dinner would presently be served. Arnswald, she
learned, had already arrived, he was in the parlor with her husband, and
as she hurried to her room she told herself that she would have to dress
in haste, an operation which to her was always fertile in annoyance. An
entire hour was never too much. But her maid was agile, dexterous of
hand, and before the clock marked seven she was fully equipped, arrayed
for dinner and the opera as well.

On leaving the room, Eden left her vexation behind her. It had been
fleeting and inoffensive as the anger of a canary. And now, on
descending the stairs, she was in great good spirits again, the crimes
of mantua-makers and milliners were forgotten, and she prepared to meet
her husband and her guest. Half-way on her journey to the drawing-room,
however, she discovered that she was empty-handed; she had omitted to
take a fan and she called to her maid to bring her one. And as she
called the front door-bell rang. She hesitated a second, and called
again. But presumably the maid did not hear. Thereupon Eden re-ascended
the stairs and went back to her room.

The maid was busying herself in a closet and the fan was on the table;
Eden picked it up, and as she did so she noticed that one of the sticks
was broken. It took several minutes to find another which suited her
gown, and when she again descended the stair some little time had
intervened.

On reaching the parlor she drew the portiere aside and peered into the
room. At the furthermost end stood Arnswal