esses, for endearments, the time was not yet; that kind of
thing, among self-respecting people of a certain class, came only with
the honeymoon. Yet Arnold never for a moment doubted that the girl was
very fond of him. Of course it was for his sake that she had refused
Trafford Romaine--a most illuminating incident. That she was proud of
him, went without saying. He noted with satisfaction how thoroughly she
had embraced his political views, what a charming Imperialist she had
become. In short, everything promised admirably. At moments, Arnold
felt the burning of a lover's impatience.

They parted. The Derwents returned to London; Arnold set off to pay a
hasty visit or two in the North. The wedding was to take place a couple
of months hence, and the pair would spend their Christmas in Egypt.

A few days after her arrival in Bryanston Square, Irene went to see the
Hannafords. She found her aunt in a deplorable state, unable to
converse, looking as if on the verge of a serious illness. Olga behaved
strangely, like one in harassing trouble of which she might not speak.
It was a painful visit, and on her return home Irene talked of it to
her father.

"Something wretched is going on of which we don't know," she declared.
"Anyone could see it. Olga is keeping some miserable secret, and her
mother looks as if she were being driven mad."

"That ruffian, I suppose," said the Doctor. "What can he be doing?"

The next day he saw his sister. He came home with a gloomy countenance,
and called Irene into his study.

"You were right. Something very bad indeed is going on, so bad that I
hardly like to speak to you about it. But secrecy is impossible; we
must use our common sense--Hannaford is bringing a suit for divorce."

Irene was so astonished that she merely gazed at her father, waiting
his explanation. Under her eyes Dr. Derwent suffered an increase of
embarrassment, which tended to relieve itself in anger.

"It will kill her," he exclaimed, with a nervous gesture. "And then, if
justice were done, that scoundrel would be hanged!"

"You mean her husband?"

"Yes. Though I'm not sure that there isn't another who deserves the
name. She wants to see you, Irene, and I think you must go at once. She
says she has things to tell you that will make her mind easier. I'm
going to send a nurse to be with her: she mustn't be left alone. It's
lucky I went to-day. I won't answer for what may happen in
four-and-twenty hours. Olga isn't