papers on the table.

"Why, Mr. Leroux!" said Helen, with a deep note of sympathy in her
voice--"you don't mean to say"...

Leroux rose, forcing a smile to his haggard face.

"You see--much too good," he said. "Altogether--too good."...

"I thought I should find you here," continued the girl, firmly; "but
I did not anticipate"--she indicated the chaos about--"this! The
insolence, the disgraceful, ungrateful insolence, of those women!"

"Dear, dear, dear!" murmured Leroux, waving his hand vaguely; "never
mind--never mind! They--er--they... I don't want them to stop... and,
believe me, I am--er--perfectly comfortable!"

"You should not be in--THIS room, at all. In fact, you should go right
away."...

"I cannot... my wife may--return--at any moment." His voice shook.
"I--am expecting her return--hourly."...

His gaze sought the table-clock; and he drew his lips very tightly
together when the pitiless hands forced upon his mind the fact that the
day was marching to its end.

Helen turned her head aside, inhaling deeply, and striving for
composure.

"Garnham shall come down and tidy up for you," she said, quietly; "and
you must dine with us."

The outer door was noisily closed by the departing servants.

"You are much too good," whispered Leroux, again; and the weary eyes
glistened with a sudden moisture. "Thank you! Thank you! But--er--I
could not dream of disturbing"...

"Mr. Leroux," said Helen, with all her old firmness--"Garnham is coming
down IMMEDIATELY to put the place in order! And, whilst he is doing so,
you are going to prepare yourself for a decent, Christian dinner!"

Henry Leroux rested one hand upon the table, looking down at the
carpet. He had known for a long time, in a vague fashion, that he lacked
something; that his success--a wholly inartistic one--had yielded him
little gratification; that the comfort of his home was a purely monetary
product and not in any sense atmospheric. He had schooled himself to
believe that he liked loneliness--loneliness physical and mental, and
that in marrying a pretty, but pleasure-loving girl, he had insured an
ideal menage. Furthermore, he honestly believed that he worshiped
his wife; and with his present grief at her unaccountable silence was
mingled no atom of reproach.

But latterly he had begun to wonder--in his peculiarly indefinite way
he had begun to doubt his own philosophy. Was the void in his soul a
product of thwarted ambition?--for, whilst he