urbed. Herbert was keen-witted, and she would rather not have had
him take an interest in her affairs.

"I'm inclined to think it's fortunate I didn't bring Muriel," he
resumed with a smile. "She's rather conventional, and has stricter
views than seem to be general nowadays."

"I can't see why I should remain in complete seclusion; it's an
irrational idea. But I've no intention of concealing anything I think
fit to do."

"Of course not. Are you going to mention that you attended this
entertainment when you write to Muriel?"

Sylvia pondered her reply. In spite of its dullness, Mrs. Lansing's
house was a comfortable and secure retreat. She would have to go back
to it presently, and it was desirable that she should avoid any cause
of disagreement with her hostess.

"No," she said candidly; "I don't see any need for that; and I may not
write for some time. Of course, Muriel doesn't quite look at things as
I do, and on one or two points she's unusually sensitive."

Herbert looked amused.

"You're considerate; and I dare say you're right. There doesn't seem
to be any reason why Muriel should concern herself about the thing,
particularly as you're in Susan's hands."

The implied promise that he would not mention his having seen her
afforded Sylvia some relief, but when he went away to speak to Mrs.
Kettering, she wished she had not met him. Herbert was troubled by
none of his wife's prejudices, but on another occasion he had made her
feel that she owed him something for which he might expect some return,
and now the impression was more marked; their secret, though of no
importance, had strengthened his position. Herbert seldom granted a
favor without an end in view; and she did not wish him to get too firm
a hold on her. The feeling, however, wore off, and she had spent a
pleasant afternoon when Bland came for her as the shadows lengthened.

He reminded her of Ethel:

"We'll have to get off, if we're to pick up Miss West."

Sylvia said that she was ready, though she felt it would have been more
satisfactory had Ethel been allowed to go back by train. They began
the journey, but after a few miles the car stopped on a steep rise.
The driver with some trouble started the engine, but soon after they
had crossed the crest of the hill it stopped again, and he looked grave
as he supplied Bland with some details that Sylvia found unintelligible.

"You must get her along another mile; then you can go back on