curled contemptuously.

"What a brute you are!" she muttered suddenly between her set pearly
teeth.

"Thanks, awfully!" he answered, taking out a cigarette and lighting it
leisurely. "You are really charmingly candid, Clara! Almost as frank as
Lady Errington, only less polite!"

"I shall not learn politeness from _you_, at any rate," she said,--then
altering her tone to one of studied indifference, she continued coldly,
"What do you want of me? We've done with each other, as you know. I
believe you wish to become gentleman-lacquey to Bruce-Errington's wife,
and that you find it difficult to obtain the situation. Shall I give you
a character?"

He flushed darkly, and his eyes glittered with an evil lustre.

"Gently, Clara! Draw it mild!" he said languidly. "Don't irritate me, or
I _may_ turn crusty! You know, if I chose, I could open
Bruce-Errington's eyes rather more widely than you'd like with respect
to the _devoted affection_ you entertain for his beautiful wife." She
winced a little at this observation--he saw it and laughed,--then
resumed: "At present I'm really in the best of humors. The reason I
wanted to speak to you alone for a minute or two was, that I'd something
to say which might possibly please you. But perhaps you'd rather not
hear it?"

She was silent. So was he. He watched her closely for a little--noting
with complacency the indignant heaving of her breast and the flush on
her cheeks,--signs of the strong repression she was putting upon her
rising temper.

"Come, Clara, you may as well be amiable," he said. "I'm sure you'll be
glad to know that the virtuous Philip is not immaculate after all. Won't
it comfort you to think that he's nothing but a mortal man like the rest
of us? . . . and that with a little patience your charms will most
probably prevail with him as easily as they once did with me? Isn't that
worth hearing?"

"I don't understand you," she replied curtly.

"Then you are very dense, my dear girl," he remarked smilingly. "Pardon
me for saying so! But I'll put it plainly and in as few words as
possible. The moral Bruce-Errington, like a great many other 'moral' men
I know, has gone in for Violet Vere,--and I dare say you understand what
_that_ means. In the simplest language, it means that he's tired of his
domestic bliss and wants a change."

Lady Winsleigh stopped in her slow pacing along the gravel-walk, and
raised her eyes steadily to her companion's face.

"Are you sure o