and hats!"

Dr. Derwent exploded in laughter.

"Acute young man! Now the ordinary male might have lost himself for a
day in wild conjectures. This points to the woolsack, Olga!"

She laughed for the first time in many days, and her appetite for
breakfast was at once improved.

In his heart, Dr. Derwent did not grieve over the singular events of
yesterday and this morning. He had no fault to find with Arnold Jacks,
and could cheerfully accept him as a son-in-law; but it was easy to
imagine a husband more suitable for such a girl as Irene. Moreover, he
had suspected, since the engagement, that she had not thoroughly known
her own mind. But he was far from anticipating such original and
decisive action on the girl's part. The thing being done, he could
secretly admire it, and the flight to Paris relieved his mind from a
prospect of domestic confusion. Just for a moment he questioned himself
as to Irene's security, but only to recognise how firm was his
confidence in her.

Socially, the position was awkward. He had a letter from Jacks, a
sensible and calmly worded letter, saying that Irene was overwrought by
recent agitations, that she had spoken of putting an end to their
engagement, but that doubtless a few days would see all right again.
Arnold must now be apprised of what had happened, and, as all
consideration was due to him, the Doctor despatched a telegram asking
him to call as soon as he could. This brought Jacks to Bryanston Square
at midday, and there was a conversation in the library. Arnold spoke
his mind; with civility, but in unmistakable terms; he accused the
Doctor of remissness. "Paternal authority," it seemed to him, should
have sufficed to prevent what threatened nothing less than a scandal.
Irene's father could not share this view; the girl was turned
three-and-twenty; there could be no question of dictating to her, and
as for expostulation, it had been honestly tried.

"You are aware, I hope," said Jacks stiffly, "that Mrs. Borisoff has
not quite an unclouded reputation?"

"I know no harm against her."

"She is as good as parted from her husband, and leads a very dubious
wandering life."

"Oh, it's all right. People countenance her who wouldn't do so if there
were anything really amiss."

"Well, Dr. Derwent," said the young man in a conclusive tone,
"evidently all is at an end. It remains for us to agree upon the manner
of making it known. Should the announcement come from your side or fro