t an extravagant price, considering the little time that remains of
the season."

"What opera-box?"

"Didn't I tell you? It's one I heard of yesterday. I was not going again
to put up with the wretched little box they palmed you off with. I did
tell you that."

"It was the only one I could get, Maude: there was no other choice."

"Yes, I know. Well, I have secured another for the rest of the season,
and you must not talk about extravagance, please."

"Very well," said Val, with a smile. "For what hour have you ordered
dinner?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Nine o'clock! That's awkward--and late."

"Why awkward? You may have to wait for me even then. It is impossible to
say when we shall get home from Chiswick. All the world will be there."

"I have just asked Carr to dine with us, and told him to come at six. I
don't fancy these hard-working men care to wait so long for their dinner.
And he has an appointment for half-past eight."

The colour came flushing into Lady Hartledon's face, an angry light into
her eyes.

"You have asked Carr to dinner! How dared you?"

Val looked up in quiet amazement.

"Dared!"

"Well--yes. Dared!"

"I do not understand you, Maude. I suppose I may exercise the right of
inviting a friend to dinner."

"Not when it is objectionable to me. I dislike that man Carr, and will
not receive him."

"You can have no grounds for disliking him," returned Lord Hartledon
warmly. "He has been a good and true friend to me ever since I knew what
friendship meant; and he is a good and true man."

"Too much of a friend," she sarcastically retorted. "You don't need him
now, and can drop him."

"Maude," said Lord Hartledon, very quietly, "I have fancied several times
lately that you are a little mistaking me. I am not to have a will of my
own; I am to bend in all things to yours; you are to be mistress and
master, I a nonentity: is it not so? This is a mistake. No woman ever had
a better or more indulgent husband than you shall find in me: but in all
necessary things, where it is needful and expedient that I should
exercise my own judgment, and act as master, I shall do it."

She paused in very astonishment: the tone was so calmly decisive.

"My dear, let us have no more of this; something must have vexed you
to-day."

"We will have no more of it," she passionately retorted; "and I'll have
no more of your Thomas Carrs. It is not right that you should bring a man
here who has deliberately insulted