ounded oddly familiar; and it was not until she
felt the dampness of the coverlet and looked at the white square of her
open windows that she realized there was a fog. And it had not lifted
when Chiltern came in the afternoon. They discussed literature--but the
book had fallen to the floor. 'Absit omen'! If printing had then been
invented, undoubtedly there would have been a book instead of an
apple in the third chapter of Genesis. He confided to her his plan
of collecting his father's letters and of writing the General's life.
Honora, too, would enjoy writing a book. Perhaps the thought of the
pleasure of collaboration occurred to them both at once; it was Chiltern
who wished that he might have her help in the difficult places; she had,
he felt, the literary instinct. It was not the Viking who was talking
now. And then, at last, he had risen reluctantly to leave. The afternoon
had flown. She held out her hand with a frank smile.

"Good-by," she said. "Good-by, and good luck."

"But I may not go," he replied.

She stood dismayed.

"I thought you told me you were going on Friday--to-morrow."

"I merely set that as a probable date. I have changed my mind. There is
no immediate necessity. Do you wish me to go?" he demanded.

She had turned away, and was straightening the books on the table.

"Why should I?" she said.

"You wouldn't object to my remaining a few days more?" He had reached
the doorway.

"What have I to do with your staying?" she asked.

"Everything," he answered--and was gone.

She stood still. The feeling that possessed her now was rebellion, and
akin to hate.

Her conduct, therefore, becomes all the more incomprehensible when we
find her accepting, the next afternoon, his invitation to sail on
Mr. Farnham's yacht, the 'Folly'. It is true that the gods will not
exonerate Mrs. Shorter. That lady, who had been bribed with Alfred
Dewing, used her persuasive powers; she might be likened to a skilful
artisan who blew wonderful rainbow fabrics out of glass without breaking
it; she blew the tender passion into a thousand shapes, and admired
every one. Her criminal culpability consisted in forgetting the fact
that it could not be trusted with children.

Nature seems to delight in contrasts. As though to atone for the fog
she sent a dazzling day out of the northwest, and the summer world was
stained in new colours. The yachts were whiter, the water bluer, the
grass greener; the stern grey rocks themse