nstinctively he thought of Marguerite;--but
Marguerite as a crowned queen, superior to all temptations of either man
or fiend.

"Sir Philip is out," she said, as she suffered him to take her hand.

"So I was aware!" returned Lennox easily. "I saw him a little while ago
at the door of the Brilliant Theatre."

She turned very pale,--then controlling the rapid beating of her heart
by a strong effort, she forced a careless smile, and said bravely--

"Did you? I am very glad--for he will have some amusement there,
perhaps, and that will do him good. He has been working so hard!"

She paused. He said nothing, and she went on more cheerfully still--

"Is it not a very dismal, wet evening! Yes!--and you must be cold. Will
you have some tea?"

"Tha-anks!" drawled Sir Francis, staring at her admiringly. "If it's not
too much trouble--"

"Oh no!" said Thelma. "Why should it be?" And she rang the bell and gave
the order. Sir Francis sank lazily back in an easy chair, and stroked
his moustache slowly. He knew that his random hit about the theatre had
struck home,--but she allowed the arrow to pierce and possibly wound her
heart without showing any outward sign of discomposure. "A plucky
woman!" he considered, and wondered how he should make his next move.
She, meanwhile, smiled at him frankly, and gave a light twirl to her
spinning-wheel.

"You see!" she said, "I was amusing myself this evening by imagining
that I was once more at home in Norway."

"Pray don't let me interrupt the amusement," he responded, with a sleepy
look of satisfaction shooting from beneath his eyelids. "Go on spinning,
Lady Errington! . . . I've never seen any one spin before."

At that moment Morris appeared with the tea, and handed it to Sir
Francis,--Thelma took none, and as the servant retired, she quietly
resumed her occupation. There was a short silence, only broken by the
hum of the wheel. Sir Francis sipped his tea with a meditative air, and
studied the fair woman before him as critically as he would have studied
a picture.

"I hope I'm not in your way?" he asked suddenly. She looked up
surprised.

"Oh no--only I am sorry Philip is not here to talk to you. It would be
so much pleasanter."

"Would it?" he murmured rather dubiously and smiling. "Well--I shall be
quite contented if you will talk to me, Lady Errington!"

"Ah, but I am not at all clever in conversation," responded Thelma quite
seriously. "I am sure you, as well as many ot