ressing.

"Why don't you read your letters, Percival?"

"I haven't time. Dinner will be waiting."

She knew that he had plenty of time, and that dinner would not be
waiting; she knew quite certainly that there was something in both
letters she must not see. Rising from her seat in silence, she went out
of the room with her baby; resentment and an unhealthy curiosity doing
battle in her heart.

Lord Hartledon slipped the bolt of the door and read the letters at once;
the foreign one first, over which he seemed to take an instant's counsel
with himself. Before going down he locked them up in a small ebony
cabinet which stood against the wall. The room was his own exclusively;
his wife had nothing to do with it.

Had they been alone he might have observed her coolness to him; but, with
guests to entertain, he neither saw nor suspected it. She sat opposite
him at dinner richly dressed, her jewels and smiles alike dazzling: but
the smiles were not turned on him.

"Is that chosen sponsor of yours coming up for the christening; lawyer
Carr?" tartly inquired the dowager from her seat, bringing her face and
her turban, all scarlet together, to bear on Hartledon.

"He comes up by this evening's train; will be in London late to-night, if
the snow allows him, and stay with us until Sunday night," replied Val.

"Oh! _That's_ no doubt the reason why you settled the christening for
Saturday: that your friend might have the benefit of Sunday?"

"Just so, madam."

And Lady Hartledon knew, by this, that her husband must have read the
letters. "I wonder what he has done with them?" came the mental thought,
shadowing forth a dim wish that she could read them too.

In the drawing-room, after dinner, someone proposed a carpet quadrille,
but Lord Hartledon seemed averse to it. In his wife's present mood, his
opposition was, of course, the signal for her approval, and she began
pushing the chairs aside with her own hands. He approached her quietly.

"Maude, do not let them dance to-night."

"Why not?"

"I have a reason. My dear, won't you oblige me in this?"

"Tell me the reason, and perhaps I will; not otherwise."

"I will tell it you another time. Trust me, I have a good one. What is
it, Hedges?"

The butler had come up to his master in the unobtrusive manner of a
well-trained servant, and was waiting an opportunity to speak. He said a
word in Lord Hartledon's ear, and Lady Hartledon saw a shiver of surprise
run through