er as of a mistress very difficult to woo.

"Fitting?" she echoed, and then after a pause, "Am I not your wife?" she
asked him in a low voice, her cheeks crimsoning.

"Ha! 'Pon honour, I had almost forgot," said he, and though the burden
of his words seemed mocking, their tone was sad.

Of the passers-by that jostled them a couple had now paused to watch a
scene that had an element of the unusual in it. She pulled her wimple
closer to her face, took him by the arm, and drew him with her into the
house.

"Close the door," she bade him, and Trenchard, who had stood aside that
they might pass in, forestalled him in obeying her. "Now lead me to your
room, said she, and Wilding in amaze turned to Trenchard as if asking
his consent, for the lodging, after all, was Trenchard's.

"I'll wait here," said Nick, and waved his hand towards an oak bench
that stood in the passage. "You had best make haste," he urged his
friend; "you are late already. That is, unless you are of a mind to set
the lady's affairs before King Monmouth's. And were I in your place,
Anthony, faith I'd not scruple to do it. For after all," he added under
his breath, "there's little choice in rotten apples."

Ruth waited for some answer from Wilding that might suggest he was
indifferent whether he went to Newlington's or not; but he spoke no word
as he turned to lead the way above-stairs to the indifferent
parlour which with the adjoining bedroom constituted Mr. Trenchard's
lodging--and his own, for the time being.

Having assured herself that the curtains were closely drawn, she put by
her cloak and hood, and stood revealed to him in the light of the
three candles, burning in a branch upon the bare oak table, dazzlingly
beautiful in her gown of ivory-white.

He stood apart, cogitating her with glowing eyes, the faintest smile
between question and pleasure hovering about his thin mouth. He had
closed the door, and stood in silence waiting for her to make known to
him her pleasure.

"Mr. Wilding..." she began, and straightway he interrupted her.

"But a moment since you did remind me that I have the honour to be your
husband," he said with grave humour. "Why seek now to overcloud that
fact? I mind me that the last time we met you called me by another name.
But it may be," he added as an afterthought, "you are of opinion that I
have broken faith with you."

"Broken faith? As how?"

"So!" he said, and sighed. "My words were of so little account that