ed on the girl's face.
'The poor thing is very miserable, I am sure. Her husband seems to
leave her entirely to herself.'

Milly looked surprised.

'Monica made quite the opposite complaint to me. She said that was a
prisoner.'

'That's very odd. She certainly goes about a good deal and alone.'

'I didn't know that,' said Milly. 'She has very often talked to me
about a woman's right to the same freedom as a man, and I always
understood that Mr. Widdowson objected to her going anywhere without
him, except just to call here, or at my lodgings.'

'Do you think she has any acquaintance that he dislikes?'

The direct answer was delayed, but it came at length.

'There is some one. She hasn't told me who it is.'

'In plain words, Mr. Widdowson thinks he has cause for jealousy?'

'Yes, I understand Monica to mean that.'

Rhoda's face had grown very dark. She moved her hands nervously.

'But--you don't think she could deceive him?'

'Oh, I can't think that!' replied Miss Vesper, with much earnestness.
'But what I couldn't help fearing, after I saw her last, was that she
might almost be tempted to leave her husband. She spoke so much of
freedom--and of a woman's right to release herself if she found her
marriage was a mistake.'

'I am so grateful to you for telling me all this. We must try to help
her. Of course I will make no mention of you, Miss Vesper. Then you are
really under the impression that there's some one she--prefers to her
husband?'

'I can't help thinking there is,' admitted the other very solemnly. 'I
was so sorry for her, and felt so powerless. She cried a little. All I
could do was to entreat her not to behave rashly. I thought her sister
ought to know--'

'Oh, Miss Madden is useless. Monica cannot look to her for advice or
support.'

After this conversation Rhoda passed a very unquiet night, and gloom
appeared in her countenance for the next few days.

She wished to have a private interview with Monica, but doubted whether
it would in any degree serve her purpose--that of discovering whether
certain suspicions she entertained had actual ground. Confidence
between her and Mrs. Widdowson had never existed, and in the present
state of things she could not hope to probe Monica's secret feelings.
Whilst she still brooded over the difficulty there came a letter for
her from Everard Barfoot. He wrote formally; it had occurred to him
that he might be of some slight service, in view of her approach