e given up, out of the pocket.

'But,' said Victor, 'the mention of you is merely formal.'

She needed sleep: she bowed her head.

Nataly was the first at the breakfast-table in the morning, a fair
Sunday morning. She was going to Mrs. John Cormyn's Church, and she
asked Nesta to come with her.

She returned five minutes before the hour of lunch, having left Nesta
with Mrs. John. Louise de Seilles undertook to bring Nesta home at
the time she might choose. Fenellan, Mr. Pempton, Peridon and Catkin,
lunched and chatted. Nataly chatted. At a quarter to three o'clock
Victor's carriage was at the door. He rose: he had to keep an
appointment. Nataly said to him publicly: 'I come too.' He stared and
nodded. In the carriage, he said: 'I'm driving to the Gardens, for a
stroll, to have a look at the beasts. Sort of relief. Poor crazy woman!
However, it 's a comfort to her: so...!'

'I like to see them,' said Nataly. 'I shall see her. I have to do it.'

Up to the gate of the Gardens Victor was arguing to dissuade his dear
soul from this very foolish, totally unnecessary, step. Alighting, he
put the matter aside, for good angels to support his counsel at the
final moment.

Bears, lions, tigers, eagles, monkeys: they suggested no more than he
would have had from prints; they sprang no reflection, except, that the
coming hour was a matter of indifference to them. They were about him,
and exercised so far a distraction. He took very kindly to an old mother
monkey, relinquishing her society at sight of Nataly's heave of the
bosom. Southward, across the park, the dread house rose. He began
quoting Colney Durance with relish while sarcastically confuting the
cynic, who found much pasture in these Gardens. Over Southward, too, he
would be addressing a popular assembly to-morrow evening. Between now
and then there was a ditch to jump. He put on the sympathetic face
of grief. 'After all, a caged wild beast hasn't so bad a life,' he
said.--To be well fed while they live, and welcome death as a release
from the maladies they develop in idleness, is the condition of wealthy
people:--creatures of prey? horrible thought! yet allied to his Idea,
it seemed. Yes, but these good caged beasts here set them an example,
in not troubling relatives and friends when they come to the gasp! Mrs.
Burman's invitation loomed as monstrous--a final act of her cruelty.
His skin pricked with dews. He thought of Nataly beside him, jumping the
ditch with hi