a few thousand pounds of additional
capital, would yield enormous returns." And she might have added that
so emphatic had been her refusal that, for the first time in all their
intercourse, Dalton's eyes had been opened to something he had never
realized in her before, the quality of the blood that runs in some
Englishwomen's veins--this time the blood of the Carnavons, who for two
centuries had been noted for their indomitable will.

Her defiance had seemed all the more remarkable to him because as he
well knew their combined resources were dwindling. She had, in fact,
only a few finger-rings left, together with some cheap trinkets; among
them a pair of sleeve-buttons then in her cuff's, a pair which she had
given Felix and which she found in her jewel-box the day after she left
him, and which she had determined to return until she realized how small
was their value.

The rest of her sad story came by fits and starts.

With her head on Martha's shoulder she told of the horror of that rainy
April night when, with agonized hands against her hot cheeks, she had
heard him stumbling up the narrow stairs staggering drunk, lunging
through the door, and falling headlong at her feet. Of the deadly fear
born in her, for the first time in her life, she, helpless and alone,
without a human being to whom she could appeal, not daring to disclose
her own identity lest graver results might follow; he, prostrate before
her, naked to his inmost bone, with all his perfidy exposed. Of his
cursing her conscientious scruples and family pride, her milk-and-water
principles, demanding again that she should write her father and that
very night, ending his entreaties with a blow of his fiat hand on her
cheek which sent her reeling toward her narrow bed.

She had watched her chance, caught up her hat and cloak, and had slipped
down-stairs, avoiding the crowd about the side-door, and had then fled
as if for her life, to be found an hour later by an expressman's wife,
who had put her to bed with a kindness and tenderness she had not known
since she left her husband's roof.

Then there had followed a long, weary day's search for work, ending at
last in defeat when, disheartened and footsore, she had dragged herself
once more up the hotel stairs, with another tightening of her resolution
to fight it out to the end.

Greatly to her surprise, Dalton had received her with marked politeness.
He had begged her forgiveness, pleading that his nerves