al, apparently soulless woman had
made on his mind and on his emotional memory! Even now, when he had no
desire, and, above all, must not allow himself to have any desire,
ever to see her again, Theodore Carden felt almost as keenly as he had
done during the period of their brief intimacy a morbid curiosity to
know where she lived and had her being.

* * * * *

It was late in the afternoon of the same day. Theodore Carden had just
come in from a long walk, and, as he passed through the circular hall
round which Watermead was built, he heard the low sound of voices,
those of his father and some other man, issuing from the square
drawing-room always occupied by the father and son on such idle days
as these. He stayed his steps, realized that the visitor was Major
Lane, and then made up his mind to go up and change, instead of going
straight in to his father, as he would have done had the latter been
alone.

As he came down again, and crossed the now lighted hall, he met the
parlourmaid, an elderly woman who had been in Thomas Carden's service
ever since his wife's death.

"I wonder if I can take in the lamps now, Mr. Theodore? It's getting
so dark, sir."

There was a troubled sound in her voice, and the young man stopped and
looked at her with some surprise. "Of course you can, Jane," he said
quickly, "why not? Why haven't you taken them in before?"

"I did go in with them half an hour ago, sir, but the master told me
to take them out again. There's firelight, to be sure, and it's only
Major Lane in there, but he's been here since three o'clock, and
master's not had his tea yet. I suppose they thought they'd wait till
you came in."

"Oh! well, if my father prefers to sit in the dark, and to put off tea
till he can have my company, you had better wait till I ring, and then
bring in the lamps and the tea together." He spoke with his usual
light good-nature, and then passed on, and so into the room which was
the only apartment in the large old house clearly associated in his
mind with the graceful, visionary figure of his young mother.

Thomas Carden and the Head Constable were sitting in the twilight, one
on each side of the fireplace, and when the young man came in they
both stirred perceptibly and abruptly stopped speaking.

Theodore came forward and stood on the hearth-rug.

"May Jane bring in the lamps, father?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose so."

And the lamps were brought in. The