with a book open on her lap. After the first
glance on his entering she kept her eyes down. He sauntered up and stood
before her in an easy attitude.

'Who has been writing to you from London?' he at once asked, abruptly in
consequence of the effort to speak without constraint.

Adela was not prepared for such a question. She remembered all at once
that Alice had seen the letter as it lay on the table. Why had Alice
spoken to her brother about it? There could be only one explanation of
that, and of his coming thus directly. She raised her eyes for a moment,
and a slight shock seemed to affect her.

She was unconscious how long she delayed her reply.

'Can't you tell me?' Richard said, with more roughness than he intended.
He was suffering, and suffering affected his temper.

Adela drew the letter from her pocket and in silence handed it to him.
He read it quickly, and, before the end was reached, had promptly chosen
his course.

'What do you think of this?' was his question, as he folded the
letter and rolled it in his hand. He was smiling, and enjoyed complete
self-command.

'I cannot think,' fell from Adela's lips. 'I am waiting for jour words.'

He noticed at length, now he was able to inspect her calmly, that she
looked faint, pain-stricken.

'Alice told me who had written to you,' Richard pursued, in his frankest
tones. 'It was well she saw the letter; you might have said nothing.'

'That would have been very unjust to you,' said Adela in a low regular
voice. 'I could only have done that if--if I had believed it.'

'You don't altogether believe it, then?'

She looked at him with full eyes and made answer:

'You are my husband.'

It echoed in his ears; not to many men does it fall to hear those words
so spoken. Another would have flung himself at her feet and prayed to
her. Mutimer only felt a vast relief, mingled with gratitude. The man
all but flattered himself that she had done him justice.

'Well, you are quite right,' he spoke. 'It isn't true, and if you knew
this woman you would understand the whole affair. I dare say you can
gather a good deal from the way she writes. It's true enough that I was
engaged to her sister, but it was broken off before I knew you, and for
the reasons she says here. I'm not going to talk to you about things of
that kind; I dare say you wouldn't care to hear them. Of course she says
I made it all up. Do you think I'm the kind of man to do that?'

Perhaps she did no