sly away from closer
examination of pain she had caused, and the disappearance of the man
was a relief to her.

As she descended the stairs that evening, in the gray frock and the
diamond circlet, she smiled the little smile that meant pleased
anticipation.

Teddy was a dear boy, and he had grown older in the last day or two.
After dinner she would play on her fiddle and--watch the dear boy.
Then there would be a rather picturesque good-by, for he was leaving
at dawn, and--that would be all.

Fate, grinning in his monk's sleeve, had settled things otherwise.

There was no music, and at half-past ten Lady Harden found herself in
a little boat on the lake, one of several parties, alone with Teddy
Cleeve. In the shadow of some willows he pulled in his oars.

His face was very white, his mouth fixed.

"Why have you done this?" he asked, abruptly.

She hesitated, and then, the obvious banality refusing to be uttered,
answered, slowly: "It isn't really done, Teddy, you only think it is."

"That is--a damned lie."

The woman never lived who did not enjoy being sworn at by the right
man, in the right way.

"Teddy!"

"Oh, yes, 'Teddy'! It _is_ a lie. Why tell it?"

"I mean that--if it hadn't been me it would have been--some one else.
Your time had come," she returned, nervously.

From across the lake came singing--some "coon song" anglicized into
quaint incomprehensibility. Cleeve folded his arms.

"Don't--look like that, Teddy."

"I look as I feel. I am not--you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you looked at me at dinner as if----"

"Hush! Don't say horrid things."

"You looked at me as though you loved me. And if truth is better than
lying, it was worse to look like that--without feeling it, than it
would have been to really feel it."

"You are talking nonsense. I am very nearsighted, and----"

He laughed harshly. "Can't you play the game even for five minutes? I
understood that it amused you to make a fool of me, but it didn't end
with that. You have made me really love you. Really love you, do you
understand?"

As he spoke, they heard peals of distant laughter, and saw six or
seven of the people who had been boating scampering across the moonlit
lawn toward the nearest park gates.

"They must be going over to the Westerleighs'--we must go, too," said
Lady Harden. "Will you row in?"

Cleeve did not answer; he did not appear to have heard her remark.

After a pause he said, slowly: "You ha