o'clock sharp.

"Late again!" growled Sir Francis Letchmere. "Clifford makes a deuced
casual sort of husband. Bad form, you know!"

Good form and bad form were the foot-rules by which he measured mankind.

Olive bit her lip. It galled her pride that Clifford should not be
early on the platform to see to her comforts. The attentions of her
father and maid did not satisfy her; she wanted Clifford to be there to
fetch and carry for her.

Pride was the keynote of her character. It was pride and not love that
had decided her, five years before, to marry the financier. She had
admired the way in which he had slashed out for himself his place in the
world of London and Paris finance, from his humble beginning as a clerk
in a Montreal broker's office. It ministered to her pride to be the wife
of a man who had plucked success from the whirlpool of life. As to the
methods by which he had amassed his money, with these she was not
concerned. She knew, of course, that there were many who had bitter
things to say about his methods.

"Probably it's his brother who's delayed him," said Olive, looking for
an explanation which would salve her _amour propre_. "They both seem to
be crazy over their rubbishy scientific experiments."

"Who's this brother?"

"I know scarcely anything about him. His name's Riviere--he's a
half-brother. He turns up unexpectedly from the wilds of Canada, and
lives like a hermit, so Clifford tells me, in some tumbledown villa
outside Paris."

"What's he like?"

"I've never seen him."

"What's the scientific experiment?"

"Clifford told me something about it, but I forgot. I wasn't interested
in the slightest. No money in it, I could see at once. I told Clifford
so."

Sir Francis tugged at his watch impatiently. "He'll miss this train for
certain!"

"No; there he is!"

Matheson was striding rapidly through the press of people on the
platform. He quickly caught sight of his wife and father-in-law, and
came up with a gesture of apology.

"Sorry I'm so late. Very sorry, too, I shan't be able to travel with you
to-night."

"Experiment to finish?" queried Olive, with an unconcealed note of
contempt in her voice.

"A very important business engagement for this evening. Will you excuse
me? I can follow to-morrow."

"Can't it wait?"

"It's highly important."

"There's the 'phone to speak over."

"I have to come face to face with my man. Surely, Olive, you can spare
me for a day? Have you eve