in a really good cause, if not turned out of doors.
In yours," he went on with the same appealing irony, "is it absolutely
beyond being 'squared'?"

But she made no concession to his tone. "Don't laugh at your
conscience," she answered gravely; "that's the only blasphemy I know."

She had hardly spoken when she turned suddenly at an unexpected sound,
and at the same moment he heard a footstep in an adjacent by-path which
crossed their own at a short distance from where they stood.

"It's M. de Mauves," she said at once; with which she moved slowly
forward. Longmore, wondering how she knew without seeing, had overtaken
her by the time her husband came into view. A solitary walk in the
forest was a pastime to which M. de Mauves was not addicted, but he
seemed on this occasion to have resorted to it with some equanimity. He
was smoking a fragrant cigar and had thrust his thumb into the armhole
of his waistcoat with the air of a man thinking at his ease. He stopped
short with surprise on seeing his wife and her companion, and his
surprise had for Longmore even the pitch of impertinence. He glanced
rapidly from one to the other, fixed the young man's own look sharply a
single instant and then lifted his hat with formal politeness.

"I was not aware," he said, turning to Madame de Mauves, "that I might
congratulate you on the return of monsieur."

"You should at once have known it," she immediately answered, "if I had
expected such a pleasure."

She had turned very pale, and Longmore felt this to be a first meeting
after some commotion. "My return was unexpected to myself," he said to
her husband. "I came back last night."

M. de Mauves seemed to express such satisfaction as could consort with
a limited interest. "It's needless for me to make you welcome. Madame
de Mauves knows the duties of hospitality." And with another bow he
continued his walk.

She pursued her homeward course with her friend, neither of them
pretending much not to consent to appear silent. The Count's few moments
with them had both chilled Longmore and angered him, casting a shadow
across a prospect which had somehow, just before, begun to open and
almost to brighten. He watched his companion narrowly as they went, and
wondered what she had last had to suffer. Her husband's presence
had checked her disposition to talk, though nothing betrayed she had
recognised his making a point at her expense. Yet if matters were none
the less plainly at a cri