ed,
shuddering. He bitterly reproached himself, taking for granted that some
error of his had led to the catastrophe. But his duty was obvious; he
knew he must kill the sinful love, whatever pain it cost him; he must
crush it as he would some noxious vermin.

James made up his mind never to see Mrs. Wallace again; and he thought
that God was on his side helping him, since, with her husband, she was
leaving in a month for England. He applied for leave. He could get away
for a few weeks, and on his return Mrs. Wallace would be gone. He
managed to avoid her for several days, but at last she came across him
by chance, and he could not escape.

"I didn't know you were so fond of hide-and-seek," she said, "I think
it's rather a stupid game."

"I don't understand," replied James, growing pale.

"Why have you been dodging round corners to avoid me as if I were a dun,
and inventing the feeblest excuses not to come to me?"

James stood for a moment, not knowing what to answer; his knees
trembled, and he sweated with the agony of his love. It was an angry,
furious passion, that made him feel he could almost seize the woman by
the throat and strangle her.

"Did you know that I am engaged to be married?" he asked at length.

"I've never known a sub who wasn't. It's the most objectionable of all
their vicious habits. What then?" She looked at him, smiling; she knew
very well the power of her dark eyes, fringed with long lashes. "Don't
be silly," she added. "Come and see me, and bring her photograph, and
you shall talk to me for two hours about her. Will you come?"

"It's very kind of you. I don't think I can."

"Why not? You're really very rude."

"I'm extremely busy."

"Nonsense! You must come. Don't look as if I were asking you to do
something quite horrible. I shall expect you to tea."

She bound him by his word, and James was forced to go. When he showed
the photograph, Mrs. Pritchard-Wallace looked at it with a curious
expression. It was the work of a country photographer, awkward and
ungainly, with the head stiffly poised, and the eyes hard and fixed; the
general impression was ungraceful and devoid of charm, Mrs. Wallace
noticed the country fashion of her clothes.

"It's extraordinary that subalterns should always get engaged to the
same sort of girl."

James flushed, "It's not a very good one of her."

"They always photograph badly," murmured Mrs. Wallace.

"She's the best girl in the world. You can't thin