er: that is impossible."

"But what can he have done?"

"I don't know, unless he has been married before, and killed his wife so
as to get married again."

Guest looked at her in horror, and she turned scarlet.

"I--I beg your pardon," she stammered. "I did not mean that."

"No," said Guest dryly. "I should think not."

Farther conversation was stayed by the entrance of Myra, looking rapt
and strange, as if in a dream. She did not seem to notice them, but
walked across to the window, and, as she went, Guest was shocked by the
alteration in her aspect. It was as if she had lately risen from a bed
of sickness, while that which struck him most was the weary, piteous
aspect of her eyes.

As she turned them upon him at last it was in a questioning way, which
he interpreted to mean, "I am dying for news of him, but it is
impossible for me to ask;" and a curious feeling of resentment rose
within him against Stratton, for he felt that he had literally wrecked,
the life of as true a woman as ever breathed.

A faint smile dawned upon her lips, and she glanced from him to Edie and
back--a look which made the crimson on Edie's cheeks grow deeper, as the
girl said quickly:

"Mr Guest came to tell me how hard he is trying to get some news, and
what he has done."

"News!" cried Myra excitedly, and her hands were raised toward their
visitor, but she let them drop to her sides as her brows contracted.

"He has been telling me that he has--"

"Where is papa--has he come back?" said Myra, coldly ignoring her
cousin's proffered information, and a few minutes later Guest shook
hands and went away.

"Her pride keeps her silent," he said thoughtfully. "No wonder, but
she'd give the world to hear the least bit of news. Poor girl! She'd
forgive him almost anything. I must, and will, find it all out before
I've done."

But the days grew into weeks, and Guest's visits to Bourne Square were
always barren of news, save that he was able to announce that Stratton
certainly did go to his chambers now and then. This he found out from
the porter's wife, who bitterly bewailed the state into which they were
falling.

"You may shake your head at me, Mr Guest," she said, "and it's our
secret, for not a word shall ever leave my lips, but let me ask you, is
it in the behaviour of a gentleman as has got all his change--"

"Got all his--Oh, I see, you mean his senses."

"Why, of course, sir, to keep his rooms shut up as he does, a