lking.

He stood arrested--in a stupor of astonishment.

Doris!--by all the gods!--_Doris_!

It was indeed Doris. She came wearily, looking from side to side, like
one uncertain of her way. Then she too perceived Meadows, and stopped.

Meadows was conscious of two mixed feelings--first, a very lively
pleasure at the sight of her, and then annoyance. What on earth had she
come for? To recover him?--to protest against his not writing?--to make
a scene, in short? His guilty imagination in a flash showed her to him
throwing herself into his arms--weeping--on this wide lawn--for all the
world to see.

But she did nothing of the kind. She directed the motor, which was
really a taxi from the station, to stop without approaching the front
door, and then she herself walked quickly towards her husband.

"Arthur!--you got my letter? I could only write yesterday."

She had reached him, and they had joined hands mechanically.

"Letter?--I got no letter! If you posted one, it has probably arrived
by your train. What on earth, Doris, is the meaning of this? Is there
anything wrong?"

His expression was half angry, half concerned, for he saw plainly that
she was tired and jaded. Of course! Long journeys always knocked her up.
She meanwhile stood looking at him as though trying to read the
impression produced on him by her escapade. Something evidently in his
manner hurt her, for she withdrew her hand, and her face stiffened.

"There is nothing wrong with me, thank you! Of course I did not come
without good reason."

"But, my dear, are you come to stay?" cried Meadows, looking helplessly
at the taxi. "And you never wrote to Lady Dunstable?"

For he could only imagine that Doris had reconsidered her refusal of the
invitation which had originally included them both, and--either tired
of being left alone, or angry with him for not writing--had devised this
_coup de main_, this violent shake to the kaleidoscope. But what an
extraordinary step! It could only cover them both with ridicule. His
cheeks were already burning.

Doris surveyed him very quietly.

"No--I didn't write to Lady Dunstable--I wrote to _you_--and sent her a
message. I suppose--I shall have to stay the night."

"But what on earth are we to say to her?" cried Meadows in desperation.
"They're out walking now--but she'll be back directly. There isn't a
corner in the house! I've got a little bachelor room in the attics.
Really, Doris, if you were going to do t