l reference
to the fellowship of secrecy that bound them. Rhoda was very silent;
Peter supposed that Vyvian had been snubbing her.

Hilary came home late. Peter and Peggy and Vyvian were sitting in the
dimly-lighted saloon, and the ubiquitous Illuminato was curled up, a
sleepy ball, on the marble top of a book-case. Peggy had a habit of
leaving him lying about in convenient corners, as a little girl her doll.

"You look tired to death, my dear," she commented, as Hilary came in. Her
kindly grey eyes turned from him to Peter, who had looked up from the
book he was reading with a nervous movement. Peter's sweet-tempered
companionableness had been oddly obscured this evening. Perhaps he too
was tired to death. And poor little Rhoda had been so unmercifully
snubbed all the evening that at last she had crept up to bed all but in
tears. Peggy felt very sorry for everyone to-night; they all seemed to
need it so much.

Vyvian, as usual, had a headache. When Hilary came in, he rose and said
he was going upstairs to try and get some sleep--an endeavour seldom
successful in this noisy and jarring world, one gathered. Before he
embarked on it he said to Peter, squirting soda into a large tumbler
of whisky, "Stefani want anything particular to-day?"

He had waited to say it till Hilary came in. Peter supposed that he said
it merely out of his general desire to be unpleasant, and perhaps to
revenge himself for that unanswered enquiry on the stairs. Or possibly he
merely wished to indicate to Peter how entirely he was privy to Stefani's
business with Hilary, and that it might just as well be discussed in his
presence. Or again, he might be desirous of finding out how far Peter
himself was in the know.

Peter said, "Nothing very particular," and bent over Illuminato, that
he might not meet Hilary's eyes or Peggy's. He knew that Hilary was
violently startled, and he heard Peggy's softly let out breath, that
might have been a sigh or a gentle whistle, and that conveyed in either
case dismay touched with a laugh.

Vyvian, who had been watching the three with a covert smile, drained his
glass and said, "Well, it's supposed to be partly my business, you know.
But since you don't think so, I'll say good-night."

He included the three in a supercilious nod, and left the room.

He left a queer silence behind him. When it had lasted for a moment,
Peter looked up from his inspection of Illuminato's screwed-up face, with
an effort, and m