ho made you my master, Mr. Ackroyd?'

'I've nothing more to say, but you've heard me. And you'll do it,
because your own heart 'll tell you it's the right thing to do. I don't
often use words like that, but I mean it to-night. Good-bye!'

She allowed him to walk away.

CHAPTER XXV

A BIRD OF THE AIR

When Paula had been three or four days wedded, it occurred to her to
examine her husband's countenance. They were at breakfast at Biarritz,
and certain words that fell from Mr. Dalmaine, as he sat sideways from
the table with his newspaper, led her eyes to rest for a few moments on
his face. He was smiling, but with depressed brows. Paula noted the
smile well, and it occupied her thoughts now and then during the day.
She was rather in want of something to think of just then, feeling a
little lonely, and wishing her mother, or her brother, or somebody whom
she really knew, were at hand to talk to.

It was with that same peculiar smile--the bushy eyebrows closing
together, the lips very tight--that her husband approached her late one
evening in the first week of May. They were in their house in
Kensington now; there had been a dinner party, the last guest was gone,
and Paula sat in the drawing-room, thinking how she had impressed a
certain polite old member of Parliament, a man whom it was worth while
impressing. Mr. Dalmaine took a seat near her, and leaned forward with
his hands clasped between his knees.

He asked: 'What were you saying to Puggerton when I passed and looked
at you--you remember? Something about working men and intelligent
voting.'

'Oh, I was telling that tale of yours about the candidate whose name
was Beere, and who got in so easily for--'

'I thought so,' he remarked, before she had finished. 'And you went on
to say that I thought it a pity that there were not more men on our
side with names of similar sound?'

'Yes, I did. Mr. Puggerton laughed ever so much.'

'H'm. Paula, my dear, I think it won't be amiss if you leave off
talking about politics.'

'Why? I'm sure I've been talking very cleverly all the evening. Mr.
Liggs said I was an acquisition to--something, I forget what.'

'No doubt. For all that, I think you had better give your attention to
other things. In fact--it's not a polite thing to say--but you're
making a fool of yourself.'

Paula's features hardened. She looked very beautiful tonight, and had,
in truth, been charming. Her appearance suffered when the delicate