. "I got you--you'll
die young," he added to himself, as he drew another cigar from his
pocket, ostentatiously lighted it, and strolled out onto the veranda.

"Victor, is the motor here?" demanded Mrs. Dainton.

Victor shifted the Pomeranian to the other arm, stepped to the door of
the sun parlor, and reported that the chauffeur seemed to be tinkering
with the car.

"And must I breathe this horrible atmosphere while that lazy chauffeur
pretends to fix the car? You must discharge him and get another."

"But I say," broke in Gordon, "the man's the best driver I ever had. I
brought him from France."

"I don't care if you brought him from Hindoostan," retorted Mrs.
Dainton, coldly. "When I say I will not use him after to-day, I mean
it." Reaching two daintily gloved hands toward the Pomeranian, snugly
ensconced under Victor's arm, the actress grasped its little, fuzzy
head, pressed it to her cheek, and smothered it with kisses. "And my
poor 'ittle Fuzzy-Wuzzy. Must 'oo breafe ze awful smoke, too, bress um
baby heartsums. Ums 'ittle Fuzzy-Wuzzy is mamma's pet, isn't ums?"

"The motor is ready now, Madame," ventured Victor stolidly.

Mrs. Dainton handed the dog to Johanna.

"Wrap the precious darling up warmly, Johanna," she said. "You ride with
me, Victor. Lizette, my cloak. Crawley, you ride in front with the
chauffeur and keep any dust from entering Fuzzy's eyes."

As the procession started toward the waiting car, Gordon, who followed
close by the English actress, inquired:

"Where shall we go to-day?"

"Really, I don't think we shall have room for you to-day, Sanford," said
Mrs. Dainton, somewhat coldly, pausing at the top of the steps while the
maids, assisted by the footman and Victor, helped Fuzzy-Wuzzy tenderly
into the car.

"That's what you have said for the past three days," Gordon cried
tensely. "And yet I brought my own machine and my own chauffeur out
here from New York just to please you."

"And you are pleasing me a great deal, Sanford, by letting me go alone."

"Will nothing I do ever move you?" inquired Gordon. Then, as he saw she
was more interested in the way Johanna was holding the Pomeranian, he
added fiercely: "Once you would have answered differently."

Mrs. Dainton turned on him, her manner a strange mingling of sadness and
regret.

"Ah, yes, once," she said softly. "I loved you then without any thought
of the future, and I have paid for it with many, many bitter years of
repentanc