ut she covered it with
instant defiance. "What do you mean, Aunt Philippa?"

Aunt Philippa made no direct reply. She knew the value of insinuation in
such a battle as this. "Ask yourself that question," she said
impressively.

It might have provided a way of escape, at least temporarily, but Chris
was too far goaded to see it. "Tell me what you mean," she said.

Aunt Philippa's thin lips smiled ironically. "My dear, are you really so
blind, or is deceit the very air you breathe? Can you look me in the face
and assure me that nothing has ever passed between you and your husband's
secretary of which you would not wish him to know?"

That went home, straight to her quivering heart. For a moment the pain of
it held her dumb. Then, with a gasp, she turned from the pitiless eyes
that watched her.

"Oh, how dare you, Aunt Philippa! How dare you!" she cried in impotence.

"I trust that I am not afraid to do my duty," said Aunt Philippa, very
gravely.

But Chris had already turned, completely routed, and fled from the scene
of her defeat; nor did she pause until she had reached her haven at the
top of the house, where, like a wounded bird, she crouched down in
solitude and so remained for a long, long time.

Not till the afternoon was far advanced did any measure of comfort come
to her stricken soul, and then at last she remembered that, after all,
she was comparatively safe. Her husband's trust was still hers, implicit
and unwavering, and she knew that he would not so much as notice a single
hint from Aunt Philippa, however adroitly offered. That was her one and
only safeguard, and as she realized it the bitterness of her heart gave
place to a sudden burst of anguished shame. What had she ever done to
deserve the generous, unquestioning trust he thus reposed in her?
Nothing--less than nothing!

CHAPTER II

FIREWORKS

When Chris emerged from her seclusion, she found that her aunt had
decided to suspend hostilities, and to treat her with the majestic
condescension of the conqueror. It was something of a relief, for Chris
was not fashioned upon fighting lines, and long-sustained animosity was
beyond her. She was thankful for Noel's plans for the evening's
entertainment as a topic of conversation, even though Aunt Philippa
openly disapproved of the enterprise. She had begun feverishly to count
the hours to her aunt's departure. She would not feel really safe,
reassure herself how she might, until she was final