uld set matters straight; obviously the best thing to do was to
grow angry with his wife.

"I cannot see much harm in it," he said. "I should not suppose that I am
the first gentleman in England who has taken a lady out for a holiday
and felt himself highly honored in so doing."

"But, Lance," repeated his fair wife, sorrowfully, "why did you not take
me or tell me?"

"My dear Marion, I did not think that I was compelled to tell you every
action of my life, everywhere I went, everything I did, every one I see;
I would never submit to such a thing. Of all things in the world, I
abhor the idea of a jealous wife."

She rose from her knees, her fair face growing paler, and stood looking
at him with a strangely perplexed, wondering gaze.

"I cannot argue with you, Lance," she said, gently; "I cannot dispute
what you say. You are your own master; you have a perfect right to go
where you will, and with whom you will, but my instinct and my heart
tell me that you are wrong. You have no right to take any lady out
without telling me. You belong to me, and to no one else."

"My dear Marion, you are talking nonsense," he said, abruptly; "you know
nothing of the world. Pray cease."

She looked at him with more of anger on her fair face than he had ever
seen before.

"Lord Chandos," she said, "is this all you have to say to me? I am told
that you have spent a whole day in the society of the most beautiful
actress in the world, perhaps, and when I ask for an explanation you
have none to give me."

"No," he replied, "I have none."

"Lance, I do not like it," she said, slowly; "and I do not understand. I
thought Madame Vanira was so good and true?"

"So she is," he replied. "You must not say one word against her."

"I have no wish; but if she is so good why should she try to take my
husband from me?"

"She has not done so," he replied, angrily. "Marion, I will not be
annoyed by a jealous wife."

"I am not jealous, Lance," she replied; "but when I am told such a
story, and it proves to be true, what am I to do?"

"Say nothing, Marion, which is always the wisest thing a woman can do,"
he replied.

His wife gazed at him with proud indignation.

"I do not like the tone in which you speak of this; tell me frankly, is
it with Madame Vanira you spend all the time which you pass away from
home?"

"I shall say nothing of Madame Vanira," he replied.

She drew nearer to him; she laid one white hand on his shoulder and
loo