ld not allow herself to believe that she had got off. "And may I
ask--not that I have any right to ask, for of course you have better
advisers--what do you mean to put the money in, when you have got it
back?"

"Oh, John," said Mrs. Dennistoun, "you are implacable, though you
pretend different. You know what I want with the money, and you
disapprove of it, and so do I. I am going to throw it away. I know that
just as well as you do, and I am ashamed of myself: but I am going to do
it all the same."

"You are going to give it to Elinor? I don't think there is anything to
disapprove of in that. It is the most natural thing in the world."

"If I could be sure that Elinor would get any good by it," she said.

And then his face suddenly blazed up, so that the former flame in his
eyes was nothing. He sat for a moment staring at her, and then he said,
"Yes, if--but I suppose you take the risk." There were a great many
things on his lips to say, but he said none of them, except hurriedly,
"You have a motive, I suppose----"

"I have a motive--as futile probably as my act--if I could by that
means, or any other, acquire an influence----"

John was very seldom, if ever, rude--it was not in his way--but at this
moment he was so bitterly exasperated that he forgot his manners
altogether. He burst out into a loud laugh, and then he jumped up to his
feet and said, "Forgive me. I really have a dozen engagements. I can't
stay. I'll see to having this business done for you as soon as possible.
You would rather old Lynch had no hand in it? I'll get it done for you
at once."

She followed him out to the door as if they had been in the country, and
that the flowery cottage door, with the great world of down and sky
outside, instead of Curzon Street: longing to say something that
would still, at the last moment, gain her John's approval, or his
understanding at least. But she could think of nothing to say. He had
promised to manage it all for her: he had not reproached her; and yet
not content with that she wanted to extort a favourable word from him
before he should go. But she could not find a word to say. He it was
only who spoke. He asked when she was going to return home, with his
hand upon the street door.

"I don't know. I have not made any plans. The house is taken till July."

"And you have enjoyed it?" he said. "It has answered?"

What a cruel, cruel question to put to her! She going so unsuspectingly
with him to the ve