st lie, and she told it badly, flushing and stammering.
Mahaly understood only too well. The woman seemed oddly reluctant; tried
once again to say what she had to say, and failed.

When she had gone, Kate felt in the reaction as if her heart had been
released from some heavy weight. "Why haven't I written before?" she
thought. "Shyness, pride between people who love--what a silly thing! He
shall see how strong I am; how much better and truer a friend, now that
we know."

To prove the purely friendly nature of her intentions, she donned her
most becoming dress, in case he chose to bring his answer in person.

Mahaly brought the answer, however, written across a leaf of a
prescription-pad:

I do not dare to come. It is myself I cannot trust. Forgive me!

It was her one love-letter from Jacques Benoix. She wore it out with
reading.

Some days later the bomb fell. Her husband said casually, at the
supper-table, "I bought the Benoix place to-day, Kate."

"Bought--the Benoix place?"

"Yes; not that I could afford it! God knows I'm land-poor enough as it
is. But they needed the money, and I knew you would like me to help
them, my dear. They're such friends of yours."

Kate moistened her lips. "Of yours, too, Basil. But--why do they need
money?"

He looked at her. "Oh, haven't you heard?" He spoke slowly, as if the
words were pleasant to him. "Has Jacques not told you that they are
going away to live, to the mountains? Mrs. Benoix' health; lungs, you
know."

The room was whirling; around her. Clutching the tablecloth to steady
herself, she was aware of Mahaly behind her master's chair, looking at
her sharply, warningly. "Isn't it rather foolish of Jacques?" she heard
herself asking, evenly, "to give up his practice a second time?"

Kildare laughed. "Not much practice to give up, my dear! Old Jones is
good enough for us--he's not a d----d Frenchman, at least," he said with
sudden savagery. "In fact," he added, smoothly again, "it was I who
advised Jacques to try the mountains. He has worn out his welcome here."

At last Kate understood. Her husband had seen. He meant to guard what he
did not value. He had forced Benoix to sell his home, and to give up his
means of livelihood. He was driving him out of the neighborhood because
he was her lover.

She rose, and walked steadily from the room. The girl Mahaly followed.

"Tek keer, tek keer!" she muttered, in a low voice. "He's watchin' you,
Miss Kate!"

"He