e precise spot between the eyes
where a man's knuckles would most effectually tell; and his hand was
clinched, and his teeth set hard. There was a look on his face which
would have warned any gay young man that when Macleod should marry, his
wife would need no second champion.

But was this the atmosphere by which she was surrounded? It is needless
to say that the piece was proper enough. Virtue was triumphant; vice
compelled to sneak off discomfited. The indignant outburst of shame, and
horror, and contempt on the part of the young wife, when she came to
know what the villain's suave intentions really meant, gave Miss White
an excellent opportunity of displaying her histrionic gifts; and the
public applauded vehemently; but Macleod had no pride in her triumph. He
was glad when the piece ended--when the honest-hearted Englishman so far
recovered speech as to declare that his confidence in his wife was
restored, and so far forgot his stolidity of face and demeanor as to
point out to the villain the way to the door instead of kicking him
thither. Macleod breathed more freely when he knew that Gertrude White
was now about to go away to the shelter and quiet of her own home. He
went back to his rooms, and tried to forget the precise circumstances in
which he had just seen her.

But not to forget herself. A new gladness filled his heart when he
thought of her--thought of her not now as a dream or a vision, but as
the living and breathing woman whose musical laugh seemed still to be
ringing in his ears. He could see her plainly--the face all charged with
life and loveliness; the clear bright eyes that he had no longer any
fear of meeting; the sweet mouth with its changing smiles. When Major
Stuart came home that night he noticed a most marked change in the
manner of his companion. Macleod was excited, eager, talkative; full of
high spirits and friendliness; he joked his friend about his playing
truant from his wife. He was anxious to know all about the major's
adventures, and pressed him to have but one other cigar, and vowed that
he would take him on the following evening to the only place in London
where a good dinner could be had. There was gladness in his eyes, a
careless satisfaction in his manner; he was ready to do anything, go
anywhere. This was more like the Macleod of old. Major Stuart came to
the conclusion that the atmosphere of London had had a very good effect
on his friend's spirits.

When Macleod went to be