significance, that he could see. Still, it was a whimsical thing that,
as had just struck him, Charlie's spectre should be named Agatha. But
it came; to nothing: how could the name of Charlie's spectre have
anything to do with that of his penitent?

Presently Charlie, too, fell into silence. He beat his stick moodily
against his leg and looked glum and absent.

"Ah, well," he said at last, "poor Agatha was hardly used: she paid
part of the debt we owe woman."

Mr. Taylor raised his brows and smiled at this gloomily misogynistic
sentiment. He had the perception to grasp in a moment what it
indicated. His young friend was, or had lately been, or thought he was
likely to be, a lover, and an unhappy one. But he did not press
Charlie. Confessions were no luxury to him.

Presently they began to walk back, and Charlie, saying he had to dine
with Victor Button, made an appointment to see Taylor again, and left
him, striking across the Row. Taylor strolled on, and, finding Mrs.
Marland still in her seat, sat down by her. She was surprised and
pleased to hear that Charlie was in town.

"I left him at home in deep dumps. You've never been to Langbury Court,
have you?"

Taylor shook his head.

"Such a sweet old place! But, of course, rather dull for a young man,
with nobody hut his mother and just one or two slow country neighbors."

"Oh, a run 'll do him good."

"Yes; he was quite moped;" and Mrs. Marland glanced at her companion.
She wanted only a very little encouragement to impart her suspicions to
him. It must, in justice to Mrs. Marland, be remembered that she had
always found the simplest explanation of Charlie's devotion to the Pool
hard to accept, and the most elaborate demonstration of how a Canadian
canoe may be upset unconvincing.

"You're a great friend of his, aren't you?" pursued Mrs. Marland. "So I
suppose there's no harm in mentioning my suspicions to you. Indeed, I
daresay you could be of use to him--I mean, persuade him to be wise.
I'm afraid, Mr. Taylor, that he is in some entanglement."

"Dear, dear!" murmured Mr. Taylor.

"Oh, I've no positive proof, but I fear so--and a very undesirable
entanglement, too, with someone quite beneath him. Yes, I think I had
better tell you about it."

Mr. Taylor sat silent and, save for a start or two, motionless while
his companion detailed her circumstantial evidence. Whether it was
enough to prove Mrs. Marland's case or not--whether, that is, it is
inconce