ved her and had never ceased to love her.
Poor Bottles! she had been very fond of him once. They had grown up
together, and it really gave her some cruel hours when a sense of what
she owed to herself and her family had forced her to discard him.

She remembered, as she sat there this evening, how at the time she had
wondered if it was worth it--if life would not be brighter and happier
if she made up her mind to fight through it by her honest lover's side.
Well, she could answer that question now. It had been well worth it. She
had not liked her husband, it is true; but on the whole she had enjoyed
a good time and plenty of money, and the power that money brings. The
wisdom of her later days had confirmed the judgment of her youth. As
regards Bottles himself, she had soon got over that fancy; for years
she had scarcely thought of him, till Sir Eustace told her that he was
coming home, and she had that curious dream about him. Now he had come
and made love to her, not in a civilised, philandering sort of a way,
such as she was accustomed to, but with a passion and a fire and an
utter self-abandonment which, while it thrilled her nerves with a
curious sensation of mingled pleasure and pain, not unlike that she once
experienced at a Spanish bull-fight when she saw a man tossed, was yet
extremely awkward to deal with and rather alarming.

Now, too, the old question had come up again, and what was to be done?
She had sheered him off the question that afternoon, but he would want
to marry her, she felt sure of that. If she consented, what were they to
live on? Her own juncture, in the event of her re-marriage, would be cut
down to a thousand a year--she had four now, and was pinched on that;
and as for Bottles, she knew what he had--eight hundred, for Sir Eustace
had told her. He was next heir to the baronetcy, it was true, but Sir
Eustace looked as though he would live for ever, and besides, he might
marry after all.

For a few minutes Lady Croston contemplated the possibility of existing
on eighteen hundred a year, and what Chancery would give her as guardian
of her children in a poky house somewhere down at Kensington. Soon she
realised that the thing was not to be done.

"Unless Sir Eustace will do something for him, it is very clear that we
cannot be married," she said to herself with a sigh. "However, I need
not tell him that just yet, or he will be rushing back to South Africa
or something."

V

Sir Eus