have a secret to tell you."

"A secret?" he repeated gravely. "Why not now?"

Her face was quite aglow with excitement and a certain timid mischief as
she laughed: "Not while you are so solemn. It can wait."

He looked at his watch. "I must give some orders to Jim about the stock
before he turns in," he said.

"He's gone to the stables already," said Mrs. Rylands.

"No matter; I can go there and find him."

"Shall I bring your boots?" she said quickly.

"I'll put them on when I pass through the kitchen. I won't be long away.
Now go to bed. You are looking tired," he said gently, as he gazed at
the drawn lines about her eyes and mouth. Her former pretty color
struck him also as having changed of late, and as being irregular and
inharmonious.

As Mrs. Rylands obediently ascended the stairs she heaved a faint sigh,
her only recognition of her husband's criticism. He turned and passed
quickly into the kitchen. He wanted to be alone to collect his thoughts.
But he was surprised to find Jane still there, sitting bolt upright in
a chair in the corner. Apparently she had been expecting him, for as he
entered she stood up, and wiped her cheek and mouth with one hand, as if
to compress her lips the more tightly.

"I reckoned," she began, "that unless you war for forgettin' everythin'
in these yer goings on, ye'd be passin' through here to tend to your
stock. I've got a word to say to ye, Mr. Rylands. When I first kem over
here to help, I got word from the folks around that your wife afore
you married her was just one o' them bally dancers. Well, that was YOUR
lookout, not mine! Jane Mackinnon ain't the kind to take everybody's
sayin' as gospil, but she kalkilates to treat folks ez she finds 'em.
When she finds 'em lyin' and deceivin'; when she finds em purtendin' one
thing and doin' another; when she finds 'em makin' fools tumble to 'em;
playing soots on their own husbands, and turnin' an honest house into a
music-hall and a fandango shop, she kicks! You hear me! Jane Mackinnon
kicks!"

"What do you mean?" said Mr. Rylands sternly.

"I mean," said Miss Mackinnon, striking her hips with the back of her
hands smartly, and accenting each word that dropped like a bullet from
her mouth with an additional blow,--"I--mean--that--your--wife--had
one--of--her--old--hangers-on--from--'Frisco--here--in--this
very--kitchen--all--the--arternoon; there! I mean that whiles she was
waitin' here for you, she was canoodlin' and cryin'