and across several times. 'There's an end of
_your_ husband's chances with me. And that don't make me intestit
neither; there's the will left, and Mark and none of his will ever get
a penny piece under it; he can make his mind easy over that, tell
him.'

His coarse violence had something almost appalling in it, and at first
Mabel had blanched under its force, but her own anger rose now.

'I am glad to think we shall owe nothing to you in future,' she said.
'If Mark has really taken your money, it was because--because he had
this secret to keep; but he will give it all back. Now leave the
house, please. Uncle Antony, will you get him to go away.'

Uncle Solomon, white and shaking, almost shrunken after his outburst
of passion, was standing in the midst of a thick litter of torn paper,
looking like a tree which has shed its last leaves in a sudden gust.

'Don't you touch me, 'Umpage, now,' he said hoarsely; 'I'm quite
capable of going by myself. I--I dessay I let my temper get the better
o' me just now,' he said to Mabel, rather feebly. 'I don't blame you
for taking your husband's part, though he is a--ah, I shall go off my
'ead if I speak any more about it. I'll go--where's your door got to?
Let me alone; I'll find my way. I shall get rid of this dizziness out
in the air;' and he stumbled out of the room, a truly pitiable sight,
with the fondest ambition of his later life mortally wounded.

'Dear Uncle Antony,' cried Mabel, who felt almost sorry for him, 'go
after him, do. Oh, I know you're not friends, but never mind that
now--he ought not to go home alone.'

'Hot-headed old ass!' growled Mr. Humpage; 'but there, there, my dear,
I'll go. I'll keep him in sight at the stations, and see he comes to
no harm.'

Mark had to hear of this when he came home that evening.

'And you really did take his money?' cried Mabel, after hearing his
account. 'Oh, Mark, what made you do that?'

Mark hardly knew himself; he certainly would not have done it if he
had ever imagined the truth would be known; perhaps his ideas of right
and wrong had become rather mixed, or perhaps he persuaded himself
that if he did not exactly deserve the money yet, he would not be long
in doing so.

'Well, darling,' he replied, 'he would have been bitterly offended if
I hadn't, you know, and I didn't know then that it was all done on
account of "Illusion." But, after all, I've only had one year's
allowance, and I'll give him back that to-morrow. H