h a man. I'll
do without you."

"You had better come now, Cicely," said Dick.

Mackenzie gave a great laugh, with a movement of his whole body as if he
were throwing off a weight.

"Shake hands before you go," he said, as she rose obediently. "You're
making a mistake, you know; but I don't altogether wonder at it. If I'd
had a day longer they should never have taken you away. I nearly got
you, as it was."

Cicely put her hand into his and looked him squarely in the face.
"Good-bye," she said. "You thought too little of me after all. If you
had really been willing for me to share your life, I think I would have
stayed with you."

His face changed at that. He fixed her with a look, but she took her
hand out of his and turned away. "I am ready, Dick," she said, and again
he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I wish I had it to do over again," he said. "Well, gentlemen, you have
won and I have lost. I don't often lose, but when I do I don't whine
about it. You can make your minds easy. Not a word about this shall pass
my lips."

Dick turned round suddenly. "Will you swear that?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, if you like. I mean it."

Dick and Cicely went out of the room. "Well, Graham, I hope you'll get
her now I've lost her," said Mackenzie.

Jim took no notice of him, but went out after the other two.

CHAPTER XVIII

AFTER THE STORM

Cicely had an air at once ashamed and defiant as she stepped up into the
cab. Dick gave the cabman the address. "See you to-night, then," he said
to Jim. It had been arranged between them that when Cicely had been
rescued Jim should fall out, as it were, for a time. "Good-bye, Cicely,"
he said. "Give my love to Walter and Muriel," and walked off down the
pavement.

"You can tell me now," said Dick, when the cab had started, "what went
wrong with you to make you do such a thing as that."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," said Cicely. "I know I have made a
mistake, and I know you will punish me for it--you and father and the
boys. You can do what you like, but I'm not going to help you."

Tears of self-pity stood in her eyes, and her face was now very white
and tired, but very childish too. Dick was struck with some compunction.
"I dare say you have had enough for the present," he said, not unkindly.
"But how you could!--a low-bred swine like that!"

Cicely set her lips obstinately. She knew very well that this weapon
would be used freely in what she had called her punis