fresh and more imperious
summons for the attendance of Mr. Faulks.

He got up hurriedly, nervously, saying--

"I must leave you, dear lady; there are matters of great urgency to be
dealt with to-day."

"No apologies: it's my fault for trespassing here. I will run away.
To-night--do not forget me, at eight," and Mrs. Wilders took her
departure.

The little house in Thistle Grove wore its most smiling aspect at
evening, with its soft-shaded lamps, pretty hangings, and quantities
of variegated, sweet-smelling flowers; it was radiant with light, full
of perfume, bright in colour.

Mrs. Wilders's guests were three--Mrs. Jones, a staid, hard-featured,
middle-aged lady in deep black, an officer's widow like herself, as
she explained, who lived a few doors down, and was an acquaintance of
the last month or two, Mr. Hobson, and Mr. Faulks.

The dinner was almost studied in simplicity, but absolutely perfect of
its kind. Clear soup, salmon cutlets, a little joint, salad, and quail
in vine-leaves. The only wine was a sound medium claret, except at
dessert, when, after the French fashion, Mrs. Wilders gave champagne.

Through dinner the talk had been light and trivial, but with dessert
and coffee it gradually grew more serious, and touched upon the topics
of the day.

"These must be trying times for you Government officials," said Mr.
Hobson, carelessly.

"Yes, indeed," replied Mr. Faulks, with a deep sigh. "I often feel
that life is hardly worth having."

"The public service is no bed of roses," remarked Mrs. Jones. "It
killed my poor dear husband."

"It is so disheartening to slave day after day as you do," went on
Mrs. Wilders to Mr. Faulks, "and get no thanks."

"Very much the other thing!" cried Mr. Hobson; "you are about the best
abused people in the world, I should say, just now."

"It is hard on us, for I assure you we do our best. We are constantly,
uninterruptedly at work. I never know a moment that I may not be
wanted--that some special messenger may not be after me. I have to
leave my address so that they can find me wherever I am, and at any
time."

"Is it so now?" asked Mrs. Wilders. "Cannot you even give me the
pleasure of your society for an hour or two without its being known?"

"I do it in this way, dear lady. I leave a sealed envelope on my hall
table, which is only opened in case of urgency."

"You don't expect to be summoned to-night, I hope?" inquired the fair
hostess.

"I cannot say;