d him in her usual
tone. He, on the contrary, was extremely formal. He stroked his
pointed beard, looked out of the window, and made remarks about the
weather and the people in the streets, not avoiding the obvious, which
was a relief.

The hall-door was opened as soon as the carriage stopped, and they got
out.

"Thank you for your escort, and good night," Beth said, holding out
her hand to him, but he ignored it.

"I feel faint," he said, and he looked it. "Will you let me come in
and sit down a minute, and give me a glass of water?"

"Why, of course," Beth said. "But have something stronger than water.
Come this way, into the library. Roberts, bring Mr. Pounce something
to revive him."

"What will you have, sir?" the butler asked.

"A glass of water, nothing but a glass of water," Mr. Pounce said,
most preciously, sinking into an easy-chair as he spoke.

The butler brought the water, and told Beth that Mr. and Mrs. Kilroy
had not come in. She ordered some tea for herself.

Mr. Pounce sipped the water and appeared to revive.

"I have suffered terribly during the last three weeks," he said at
last.

"Have you really?" Beth rejoined with concern. "What was the matter?"

"Need you ask!" he ejaculated. "Why, why have you treated me so?"

"Really, Mr. Pounce, I do not see that you have any claim on my
special consideration," Beth answered coldly.

"I have the claim of one who is entirely devoted to you," he said.

"I have never accepted your devotion, and I will not have it forced
upon me," Beth answered decidedly. "I should like you better, to tell
the truth, if you were a little more devoted to your duty."

"You allude to my wife," he said. "Oh, how can I make you understand!
But you have said it yourself--duty! What is duty? The conscientious
performance of uncongenial tasks. But if a man does his duty, then he
deserves his reward. I do my duty with what heart I have for it. No
fault can be found with me either as a husband or a citizen.
Therefore, as a man, I consider myself entitled to claim my reward."

"I am afraid you are not well," Beth said. "Don't you think you had
better go home and rest?"

"Not until we come to an understanding," he answered tragically.

Beth shrugged her shoulders resignedly, folded her hands, and waited,
more interested in him as a human specimen in spite of herself than
disturbed by anything his attitude foreboded.

There was a bright wood fire burning on the hearth.