wrote out a telegram to send to you, and
that idiotic courier put it into the pocket of my overcoat instead
of sending it. I found it in my pocket when we had come as far as
Canterbury. I am not one of those foolish husbands who keep these
pleasant surprises for their wives--it is usually the husband who
receives the surprise in such cases."

"And the coachman told you that he had driven me here?" said Ella.

"Quite so," replied the husband. "But, you see, I had some little
hesitation in coming here at half-past ten o'clock to make inquiries
about my wife--you might have gone to some place else, you know, in
which case I should have looked a trifle foolish; so I though that, on
the whole, my best plan would be to drop in upon Mr. Ayrton at the
House of Commons and drive here with him when he was coming home for the
night. I took it for granted that even so earnest a legislator as Mr.
Ayrton allows himself his nights--after twelve, of course--at home. I'm
very sorry I startled you, Ella. It shall not occur again."

"What time did you reach home?" inquired Ella casually--so casually that
her husband, who had a very discriminating ear, gave a little glance in
her direction. She was disengaging a corner of her lace trimming that
had become entangled with a large sapphire in a pendant.

"I reached home at nine," he replied.

"At nine?" She spoke the words after him in a little gasp. Then she
said, walking across the room to a sofa, "I could not have left many
minutes before you arrived. I intended going to the opera."

"That toilet should not have been wasted," said he. "It is
exquisite--_ravissante_!"

"It was an inspiration, your putting it on," said Phyllis. "I wonder if
she really had no subtle suggestion from her own heart that you were on
your way to her, Mr. Linton," she added, turning to the husband.

"I dare say it was some inward prompting of that mysterious nature, Miss
Ayrton," he replied. "A woman's heart is barometric in its nature, it
is not? Its sensitiveness is so great that it moves responsive to a
suggestion of what is to come. Is a woman's heart prophetic, I wonder?"

"It would be a rank heresy to doubt it, after the example we have
had to-night," said Mr. Ayrton. "Yes, a woman's heart is a barometer
suggesting what is coming to her, and her toilet is a thermometer
indicating the degree of expectancy."

"A charming phrase," said Mr. Linton; "a charming principle, only one
that demands some yea