lieve so."

"Well, that's a deuce of a thing to do."

"What?"--absently.

"What! Why, to travel about the country with the nucleus of a theatrical
troupe on your hands--"

"She wanted another chance. Few get it."

"Very well, son, if you think you can afford to endow a home for the
frivolously erring!--And the chances are she'll turn on you and
scratch."

"Yes--the chances favour that."

"She won't understand it; that sort never understands decency in a man."

"Do you think it might damage my reputation to be misunderstood?"
sneered Malcourt. "I've taken a notion to give her a chance and I'm
going to do it."

Portlaw spread out his first row of cards. "You know what everybody will
think, I suppose."

Malcourt yawned.

Presently Portlaw began in a babyish-irritated voice: "I've buried the
deuce and trey of diamonds, and blocked myself--"

"Oh, _shut_ up!" said Malcourt, who was hastily scribbling a letter to
Virginia Suydam.

He did not post it, however, until he reached New York, being very
forgetful and busy in taking money away from the exasperated Portlaw
through the medium of double dummy. Also he had a girl, a kitten, and
other details to look after, and several matters to think over. So
Virginia's letter waited.

* * * * *

Virginia waited, too. She had several headaches to keep inquiring
friends at a distance, for her eyes were inclined to redness in those
days, and she developed a pronounced taste for the solitude of the
chapel and churchly things.

So when at length the letter arrived, Miss Suydam evaded Constance and
made for the beach; for it was her natural instinct to be alone with
Malcourt, and the instinct unconsciously included even his memory.

Her maid was packing; Constance Palliser's maid was also up to her chin
in lingerie, and Constance hovered in the vicinity. So there was no
privacy there, and that was the reason Virginia evaded them,
side-stepped Gussie Vetchen at the desk, eluded old Classon in the palm
room, and fled like a ghost through the empty corridors as though the
deuce were at her heels instead of in her heart.

The heart of Virginia was cutting up. Alone in the corridors she
furtively glanced at the letter, kissed the edge of the envelope, rolled
and tucked it away in her glove, and continued her flight in search of
solitude.

The vast hotel seemed lonely enough, but it evidently was too populous
to suit Miss Suydam. Yet few gu