he
looked at him reproachfully, and, standing on one side to let him pass,
closed the door behind him. Then she led the way into her sitting room.

"I am glad that you have come to see me," she said. "Won't you sit
down?"

He ignored her invitation, and stood looking around him. There was a
noticeable change in the little room. There were no flowers, some of the
ornaments and the silver trifles from her table were missing. The place
seemed to have been swept bare of everything, except the necessary
furniture. Then he looked at her. She was perceptibly thinner, and there
were black rings under her eyes.

"Where is Mrs. Tresfarwin?" he asked.

"In Cornwall," she answered.

"Why?"

"I could not afford to keep her here any longer."

"What are you doing for a living--painting still?"

She shook her head a little piteously.

"They can't sell any more of my pictures," she said. "I am trying to get
a situation as governess or companion or--anything."

"When did you have anything to eat last?" he asked.

"Yesterday," she answered, and he was just in time to catch her. She had
fainted.

He laid her upon the sofa, poured some water over her face, and fanned
her with a newspaper. His expression of cold indifference remained
unmoved. It was there in his face when she opened her eyes.

"Are you well enough to walk?" he asked.

"Quite, thank you," she answered. "I am so sorry!"

"Put on your hat," he ordered.

She disappeared for a few minutes, and returned dressed for the street.
He drove her to a restaurant and ordered some dinner. He made her drink
some wine, and while they waited he buried himself in a newspaper.
They ate their meal almost in silence. Afterwards, Wingrave asked her a
question.

"Where is Aynesworth?"

"Looking for work, I think," she answered.

"Why did you not stay down in Cornwall?"

"Miss Pengarth was away--and I preferred to return to London," she told
him quietly.

"When are you going to marry Aynesworth?" he asked.

She looked down into her glass and was silent. He leaned a little
towards her.

"Perhaps," he remarked quietly, "you are already married?"

Still she was silent. He saw the tears forced back from her eyes. He
heard the sob break in her throat. Yet he said nothing. He only waited.
At last she spoke.

"Nothing is settled yet," she said, still without looking at him.

"I see no reason," he said calmly, "why, until that time, you should
refuse to accept your allowa