aight,
then--I've tried to describe my people--you can imagine their feelings at
the inevitable outbreak. Besides, there's a more serious difficulty."
Jernyngham's tense face relaxed into a grim smile. "Can you imagine
Ellice an inmate of an English country house, patronizing local
charities, presiding over prim garden parties? The idea's preposterous!
And that's not all."

Prescott knew little about England, but he could imagine her making an
undesirable sensation in Montreal or Toronto.

"You force me to ask something. Is she Mrs. Jernyngham?" he said,
hesitatingly.

"I used to think so; there's a doubt about the matter now."

"One would have imagined that was a point you would have been sure
about."

"I understood her husband was dead when we were married in Manitoba. She
was a waitress in a second-rate hotel; the brute had ill-used and
deserted her. But there's now some reason to believe he's farming in
Alberta. I haven't made inquiries: I didn't think it would improve
matters."

Prescott said nothing. In face of such a situation, any remarks that he
could make would be superfluous. There was a long silence; and then
Jernyngham spoke again, slowly, but resolutely.

"You see how it is, Jack--where my interest lies. Against that, there's
the feelings of my father and sister to consider. Then my reinstatement
would have to be bought by casting off the woman who has borne with my
failings and stuck to me pluckily. I haven't sunk quite so far as that.
You'll have to tell Colston that I'm staying here!"

He got up and Prescott laid a hand on his arm.

"It's hard; but you're doing the square thing, Cyril."

Jernyngham shook off his hand.

"Don't let us talk in that strain. Come and see Ellice and try to amuse
her. Don't know what's wrong with the woman; she has been moody of late."

"I must get back as soon as I can and I've some business to do."

"Oh, well," acquiesced Jernyngham, walking with him to the bar, which was
the quickest way of leaving.

On reaching it he turned and glanced about sardonically. The room was
dark, filled with flies, and evil smelling, as well as thick with smoke;
half a dozen, untidy men leaned against the counter.

"What a set of loafing swine you are!" he coolly remarked. "It's not to
the point that I'm no better, but if any of you feel insulted, I'll be
happy to make what I've said good."

"Cut it out, Cyril! Can't have a circus here!" exclaimed the bar-tender.

"You need