er pass her exam, not if she lives to be a hundred,'
said Ethel. 'And can you imagine father making me go to the works? Can
you imagine the sense of it?'

'He won't let you walk up with Fred at nights,' said Milly, 'so you
needn't think.'

'And your housekeeping!' Ethel exclaimed. 'What a treat father will have
at meals!'

'Oh! I can easily get round mother,' said Milly with confidence. 'I
_can't_ housekeep, and ma knows that perfectly well.'

'Well, father will forget all about it in a week or two, that's one
comfort,' Ethel concluded the matter. 'Are you going down to Burgesses
to see Harry?' she inquired, observing Milly put on her hat.

'Yes,' said Milly. 'Cissie said she'd come for me if I was late. You'd
better stay in and be dutiful.'

'I shall offer to play duets with mother. Don't you be long. Let's try
that chorus for the Operatic before supper.'

* * * * *

That night, after the girls had kissed them and gone to bed, John and
Leonora remained alone together in the drawing-room. The first fire of
autumn was burning in the grate, and at the other end of the long room
dark curtains were drawn across the French window. Shaded candles
lighted the grand piano, at which Leonora was seated, and a single gas
jet illuminated the region of the hearth, where John, lounging almost at
full length in a vast chair, read the newspaper; otherwise the room was
in shadow. John dropped the 'Signal,' which slid to the hearthrug with a
rustle, and turned his head so that he could just see the left side of
his wife's face and her left hand as it moved over the keys of the
piano. She played with gentle monotony, and her playing seemed
perfunctory, yet agreeable. John watched the glinting of the four rings
on her left hand, and the slow undulations of the drooping lace at her
wrist. He moved twice, and she knew he was about to speak.

'I say, Leonora,' he said in a confidential tone.

'Yes, my dear,' she responded, complying generously with his appeal for
sympathy. She continued to play for a moment, but even more softly; and
then, as he kept silence, she revolved on the piano-stool and looked
into his face.

'What is it?' she asked in a caressing voice, intensifying her
femininity, forgiving him, excusing him, thinking and making him think
what a good fellow he was, despite certain superficial faults.

'You knew nothing of this Ryley business, did you?' he murmured.

'Oh, no. Are you sur