' he said; he coughed.

'Don't think to deceive me,' said she. 'I have not read the contents, I
know them.'

'The invitation at last, for to-morrow, Sunday, four P.M. Odd, that next
day at eight of the evening I shall be addressing our meeting in the
Theatre. Simeon speaks. Beaves Urmsing insists on coming, Tory though he
is. Those Tories are jollier fellows than--well, no wonder! There will be
no surgical . . . the poor woman is very low. A couple of days at the
outside. Of course, I go.'

'Hand me the note, dear.'

It had to be given up, out of the pocket.

'But,' said Victor, 'the mention of you is merely formal.'

She needed sleep: she bowed her head.

Nataly was the first at the breakfast-table in the morning, a fair Sunday
morning. She was going to Mrs. John Cormyn's Church, and she asked Nesta
to come with her.

She returned five minutes before the hour of lunch, having left Nesta
with Mrs. John. Louise de Seilles undertook to bring Nesta home at the
time she might choose. Fenellan, Mr. Pempton, Peridon and Catkin, lunched
and chatted. Nataly chatted. At a quarter to three o'clock Victor's
carriage was at the door. He rose: he had to keep an appointment. Nataly
said to him publicly: 'I come too.' He stared and nodded. In the
carriage, he said: 'I'm driving to the Gardens, for a stroll, to have a
look at the beasts. Sort of relief. Poor crazy woman! However, it 's a
comfort to her: so . . . !'

'I like to see them,' said Nataly. 'I shall see her. I have to do it.'

Up to the gate of the Gardens Victor was arguing to dissuade his dear
soul from this very foolish, totally unnecessary, step. Alighting, he put
the matter aside, for good angels to support his counsel at the final
moment.

Bears, lions, tigers, eagles, monkeys: they suggested no more than he
would have had from prints; they sprang no reflection, except, that the
coming hour was a matter of indifference to them. They were about him,
and exercised so far a distraction. He took very kindly to an old mother
monkey, relinquishing her society at sight of Nataly's heave of the
bosom. Southward, across the park, the dread house rose. He began quoting
Colney Durance with relish while sarcastically confuting the cynic, who
found much pasture in these Gardens. Over Southward, too, he would be
addressing a popular assembly to-morrow evening. Between now and then
there was a ditch to jump. He put on the sympathetic face of grief.
'After all, a caged wi