ing at it; "it is right. But that is not
all. Now," turning to the woman, who was watching him triumphantly,
"show the other paper--the divorce."

"I made inquiries about that," she replied, composedly. "I wasn't going
to be fooled by that 'ere, so I made inquiries from one as knows. The
divorce is all very well in America; but it don't count in England."

Dare's face turned livid. Mr. Alwynn's flushed a deep red. He sat with
his eyes on the ground, the paper in his hand trembling a little.
Indignation against Dare, pity for him, anxiety not to judge him
harshly, struggled for precedence in his kind heart, still beating
tumultuously with the shock of Dare's first admission. He felt rather
than saw him take the paper out of his hand.

"I shall keep this," Dare said, putting it in his pocket-book; and then,
turning to the woman again, he said, with an oath, "Will you go, or will
you wait till you are turned out?"

"I'll wait," she replied, undauntedly. "I like the place well enough."

She laughed and took up her work, and, after looking at her for a
moment, he flung out of the room, followed by Mr. Alwynn.

The defeat was complete; nay, it was a rout.

The dog-cart was still standing at the door. The butler was talking to
the groom; the gardener was training some new shoots of ivy against the
stone balustrade.

Dare caught up his hat and gloves, and ordered that his portmanteau,
which had been taken into the hall, should be put back into the
dog-cart. As it was being carried down he looked at his watch.

"I can catch the mid-day express for London," he said. "I can do it
easily."

Mr. Alwynn made no reply.

"Get in," continued Dare, feverishly; "the portmanteau is in."

"I think I will walk home," said Mr. Alwynn, slowly. It gave him
excruciating pain to say anything so severe as this; but he got out the
words nevertheless.

Dare looked at him in astonishment.

"Get in," he said again, quickly. "I must speak to you. I will drive you
home. I have something to say."

Mr. Alwynn never refused to hear what any one had to say. He went slowly
down the steps, and got into the cart, looking straight in front of him,
as his custom was when disturbed in mind. Dare followed.

"I shall not want you, James," he said to the groom, his foot on the
step.

At this moment the form of Mrs. Smith, the house-keeper, appeared
through the hall door, clothed in all the awful majesty of an upper
servant whose dignity has bee