aid Marion sympathetically, "can't you trust me?"

"It is not because I can't trust you, my dear," she replied. "You
understand me, don't you? I think it would be kinder for me not to
remain, and then," she added hesitatingly, "I want to be away where I
can better think it over."

"Yes, I understand," Marion answered. "You are such a queer girl,
though; how could you keep so quiet about it?"

"I didn't feel that I could talk about it. I am queer, I suppose, but
you will forgive me if I go away, won't you? I have thought it over for
three days and I feel it is best."

"I will forgive you, of course, my dear; but, O, Florence, do be sure
you are doing right. Don't make a mistake."

"That is why I am going away. I will know better then."

At this moment a man quietly entered the room. He had delicately cut
features and a determined mouth, softened by gentle, brown eyes. His
dark hair was slightly tinged with grey upon the temples, and his
colorless complexion indicated a man whose life was little spent in the
open air, a fact somewhat emphasized by his slightly stooping shoulders
and thin, nervous hands. His clothes were plain and neat, but without
any of the pronounced effects of fashion, and his entire appearance was
decidedly that of one who is termed in America "a business man."

"Why don't you speak when you enter a room, Roswell?" said Mrs.
Sanderson, looking up suddenly, startled at seeing her husband. "Did you
hear what we were talking about?"

"I am not an eavesdropper, my dear," he said quietly. "I merely came to
tell you that I am back from the bank. Are you ready to go to the tea?"

"I had no idea it was so late," said Marion looking at her watch. "We
must hurry, Florence." The two women went to put on their hats, and when
they returned all three entered the carriage waiting at the door and
were driven quickly toward the rooms of the "Renaissance Club" in lower
Wabash Avenue.

The institution which bore the name of "Renaissance Club" was a ladies'
literary society devoted to studying the effect of humanism upon the
literature of the world. It held meetings in its tastefully arranged
rooms on each alternate Thursday afternoon throughout the season, and on
these occasions original papers were read and discussed with an amount
of erudition which astonished the members unacquainted with the usual
works of reference, and rendered the club the admiration and pride of
feminine Chicago. It is true that liter