wo
players who were just coming in.

"It is a long way to come," she remarked, "for so short a time."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"The aftermath of a contested election is a thing to escape from," he
said. "I felt that I wanted to get as far away as possible, and then
again I wanted to find out who it was who had sent that telegram."

They sat apart at luncheon, and Blanche was much quieter than usual. The
others were all old friends. It seemed to her more than ordinarily
apparent that she was present on sufferance, accepted as Mannering's
wife, as an evil to be endured, and, so far as possible, ignored.
Mannering himself spoke to her now and then across the table. Lord
Redford, always good-natured, made a few efforts to draw her into the
conversation. But it seemed to her that she had lost her confidence. The
freemasonry of old acquaintance which existed between all of them left
her outside an invisible but very real circle. Words came to her with
difficulty. She felt stupid, almost shy. When she made an effort to break
through it she was acutely conscious of her failure. Her laugh was too
hard, it lacked sincerity or restraint. The cigarette which she smoked
out of bravado with her coffee, seemed somehow out of place. When at last
luncheon was over Mannering left his place and came over to her.

"The Duchess and I," he said, "are going to play Lord Redford and Mrs.
Arbuthnot. Won't you walk round with us? The links are really very
pretty."

"Thanks, I hate watching golf," she answered, rising and shaking out her
skirt. "Hester and I will walk home."

"Do take the car, Mrs. Mannering," Berenice said. "It will simply be
waiting here doing nothing."

"Thank you," Blanche answered. "I shall enjoy the walk."

The foursome was played in very leisurely fashion. There was plenty of
time for conversation.

"I don't quite understand your wife," Berenice said to Mannering. "Her
dislike of me is a little too obvious. What does it mean? Do you know?"

He shook his head. He was looking very pale and tired.

"I am not sure that I know anything about it at all," he said. "I am
beginning to distrust my own judgment."

"Your marriage--" she began, thoughtfully.

"Don't let us talk about it," he interrupted. "I tried to pay a debt.
It seems to me that I have only incurred a fresh one."

They were silent for some time. Then their opponents lost a ball and
displayed no particular diligence in attempting to find it. Bere