because he gave me that for which I married him. He
fulfilled his part of the bargain. I must fulfil mine. I was nothing but
his bailiff's daughter, remember; a bailiff who had robbed him--for whose
escape from penal servitude I paid the price."

"Great Heavens!" said Nap.

She turned to him quickly, with an impulsiveness that was almost girlish.
"I have never told anyone else," she said. "I tell you because I know
you are my friend and because I want you to understand. We will
never--please--speak of it again."

"Wait!" Nap's voice rang stern. "Was it part of the bargain that he
should insult you, trample on you, make you lead a dog's life without a
single friend to make it bearable?"

She did not attempt to answer him. "Let us go back," she said.

He wheeled at once, still holding her hands.

They skated a few yards in silence. Then suddenly, almost under his
breath, he spoke. "I am not going to give up my friendship with you. Let
that be clearly understood."

"You are very good to me," she said simply.

"No. I am not. I am human, that's all. I don't think this state of
affairs can last much longer."

She shuddered. Her husband's condition had been very much worse of late,
but she did not tell him so.

They were skating rapidly back towards the head of the lake. In front of
them sounded the swirling rush of skates and the laughter of many voices.

"I'm sorry I've been a beast to you," Nap said abruptly. "You mustn't
mind me. It's just my way."

"Oh, I don't mind you, Nap," she answered gently.

"Thanks!" he said.

And with that he stooped suddenly and shot forward like a meteor, bearing
her with him.

They flashed back into the gay throng of masqueraders, and mingled with
the crowd as though they had never left it.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE DESCENT FROM OLYMPUS

"Come and say good-bye to Lucas," said Bertie. "He is up and
asking for you."

So, with an impetuous hand upon Anne's arm, he whisked her away on the
following morning to his brother's room. She was dressed for departure,
and waiting for the motor that was to take her home. Of Nap she had seen
nothing. He had a way of absenting himself from meals whenever it suited
him to do so. She wondered if he meant to let her go without farewell.

She found the master of the house lying on a couch sorting his
correspondence. He pushed everything aside at her entrance.

"Come in, Lady Carfax! I am glad not to have missed you. A pity you have
t