ew near he thought how often he had seen it blazing with lights, its
steps awninged and carpeted, and carriages waiting in double line to
draw up at the curbstone. It was in the conservatory that stretched
its dead-black bulk down the side street that he had taken his first
kiss from May; it was under the myriad candles of the ball-room that he
had seen her appear, tall and silver-shining as a young Diana.

Now the house was as dark as the grave, except for a faint flare of gas
in the basement, and a light in one upstairs room where the blind had
not been lowered. As Archer reached the corner he saw that the
carriage standing at the door was Mrs. Manson Mingott's. What an
opportunity for Sillerton Jackson, if he should chance to pass! Archer
had been greatly moved by old Catherine's account of Madame Olenska's
attitude toward Mrs. Beaufort; it made the righteous reprobation of New
York seem like a passing by on the other side. But he knew well enough
what construction the clubs and drawing-rooms would put on Ellen
Olenska's visits to her cousin.

He paused and looked up at the lighted window. No doubt the two women
were sitting together in that room: Beaufort had probably sought
consolation elsewhere. There were even rumours that he had left New
York with Fanny Ring; but Mrs. Beaufort's attitude made the report seem
improbable.

Archer had the nocturnal perspective of Fifth Avenue almost to himself.
At that hour most people were indoors, dressing for dinner; and he was
secretly glad that Ellen's exit was likely to be unobserved. As the
thought passed through his mind the door opened, and she came out.
Behind her was a faint light, such as might have been carried down the
stairs to show her the way. She turned to say a word to some one; then
the door closed, and she came down the steps.

"Ellen," he said in a low voice, as she reached the pavement.

She stopped with a slight start, and just then he saw two young men of
fashionable cut approaching. There was a familiar air about their
overcoats and the way their smart silk mufflers were folded over their
white ties; and he wondered how youths of their quality happened to be
dining out so early. Then he remembered that the Reggie Chiverses,
whose house was a few doors above, were taking a large party that
evening to see Adelaide Neilson in Romeo and Juliet, and guessed that
the two were of the number. They passed under a lamp, and he
recognised Lawrence Le