as pride--perhaps she never really believed his exodus was distant
or complete.

With a full knowledge that to-morrow the various ornaments and pretty
trifles around her would be in the hands of the law, she gathered only a
few necessaries for her flight and some familiar personal trinkets. I
am constrained to say that this self-abnegation was more fastidious than
moral. She had no more idea of the ethics of bankruptcy than any other
charming woman; she simply did not like to take with her any contagious
memory of the chapter of the life just closing. She glanced around the
home she was leaving without a lingering regret; there was no sentiment
of tradition or custom that might be destroyed; her roots lay too near
the surface to suffer from dislocation; the happiness of her childless
union had depended upon no domestic centre, nor was its flame sacred to
any local hearthstone. It was without a sigh that, when night had fully
fallen, she slipped unnoticed down the staircase. At the door of the
drawing-room she paused and then entered with the first guilty feeling
of shame she had known that evening. Looking stealthily around she
mounted a chair before her husband's picture, kissed the irreproachable
moustache hurriedly, said, "You foolish darling, you!" and slipped
out again. With this touching indorsement of the views of a rival
philosopher, she closed the door softly and left her home forever.

CHAPTER II

The wind and rain had cleared the unfrequented suburb of any observant
lounger, and the darkness, lit only by far-spaced, gusty lamps, hid
her hastening figure. She had barely crossed the second street when she
heard the quick clatter of hoofs behind her; a buggy drove up to the
curbstone, and Poindexter leaped out. She entered quickly, but for a
moment he still held the reins of the impatient horse. "He's rather
fresh," he said, eying her keenly; "are you sure you can manage him?"

"Give me the reins," she said simply.

He placed them in the two firm, well-shaped hands that reached from the
depths of the vehicle, and was satisfied. Yet he lingered.

"It's rough work for a lone woman," he said, almost curtly. "I can't
go with you, but, speak frankly, is there any man you know whom you can
trust well enough to take? It's not too late yet; think a moment!"

He paused over the buttoning of the leather apron of the vehicle.

"No, there is none," answered the voice from the interior; "and it's
better so. I