e so reckless and wicked, my love," said Mrs. Wylie. "You will
break your poor mother's heart."

Miss Wilson and Mr. Jansenius entered just then, and Agatha became
motionless and gazed abstractedly at a vase of flowers. Miss Wilson
invited her visitors to join the tennis players. Mr. Jansenius looked
sternly and disappointedly at Agatha, who elevated her left eyebrow and
depressed her right simultaneously; but he, shaking his head to signify
that he was not to be conciliated by facial feats, however difficult
or contrary to nature, went out with Miss Wilson, followed by Mrs.
Jansenius and Mrs. Wylie.

"How is your Hubby?" said Agatha then, brusquely, to Henrietta.

Mrs. Trefusis's eyes filled with tears so quickly that, as she bent her
head to hide them, they fell, sprinkling Agatha's hand.

"This is such a dear old place," she began. "The associations of my
girlhood--"

"What is the matter between you and Hubby?" demanded Agatha,
interrupting her. "You had better tell me, or I will ask him when I meet
him."

"I was about to tell you, only you did not give me time."

"That is a most awful cram," said Agatha. "But no matter. Go on."

Henrietta hesitated. Her dignity as a married woman, and the reality of
her grief, revolted against the shallow acuteness of the schoolgirl. But
she found herself no better able to resist Agatha's domineering than
she had been in her childhood, and much more desirous of obtaining her
sympathy. Besides, she had already learnt to tell the story herself
rather than leave its narration to others, whose accounts did not,
she felt, put her case in the proper light. So she told Agatha of her
marriage, her wild love for her husband, his wild love for her, and his
mysterious disappearance without leaving word or sign behind him. She
did not mention the letter.

"Have you had him searched for?" said Agatha, repressing an inclination
to laugh.

"But where? Had I the remotest clue, I would follow him barefoot to the
end of the world."

"I think you ought to search all the rivers--you would have to do that
barefoot. He must have fallen in somewhere, or fallen down some place."

"No, no. Do you think I should be here if I thought his life in danger?
I have reasons--I know that he is only gone away."

"Oh, indeed! He took his portmanteau with him, did he? Perhaps he
has gone to Paris to buy you something nice and give you a pleasant
surprise."

"No," said Henrietta dejectedly. "He knew th