e asked. "Shall I go down without you? Shall I explain that
you've a headache----"

"No," Beverley answered. She stood up, tall and very beautiful, though
deadly pale. "I have no headache. I am quite well. Leontine, tell
Johnson dinner may be served."

XXXIX

ON THE ROAD TO NEWPORT

Through the blue dusk of the June night a big gray limousine car bowled
smoothly over the velvet road surface, with the moon overhead, and the
sea making distant music. Turning a corner with a swing the limousine
came upon another car, stationary and in trouble. A man in evening dress
was holding an electric lamp for the chauffeur to peer under the bonnet,
and standing beside him was a woman in black, wearing a filmy purple
cloak.

"Want any help?" O'Reilly called from the window, while his chauffeur
slowed down.

"No, thank you! We'll soon be all right," answered the man with the
lamp. The light shone on his face, which was strange to O'Reilly, and on
that of the woman, which, to his surprise, was familiar. "You can go
on," he said to his chauffeur, in a low voice.

"Why, Mr. O'Reilly, it was Mrs. Heron!" Clo cried, sinking back
reluctantly upon her comfortably rigged-up bed, after a long stare
through the window.

"'Mr. O'Reilly,' indeed? Don't you realize I'm your husband?" Justin
laughed at her.

"I'd forgotten," said Clo. "It's only since this morning, and we've had
so many things to think of."

"I've thought of nothing but you. You seem to have thought of nothing
but your Angel--and these Herons."

"It's the Herons I'm thinking of now," Clo confessed. "Why did you tell
the man to go on?"

"Why, I like old John Heron, but I'm not a spoil-sport."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm wondering if Mrs. Heron and that chap are on their way to the
Sands' ball. If Heron doesn't mind letting them enjoy each other's
company, why should I butt in?"

"Mr. Heron was in the car," Clo insisted gravely. "It was dark inside,
but I saw his face at the window."

"You must have sharp eyes," said Justin. "The window looked black as a
pocket to me."

"You think I imagined it. But I'm sure! Oh, Mr.--er--Justin, do let's go
back and warn him! I have a presentiment that if we don't, it will be
too late."

"Whatever you feel as if you must do shall be done," said Justin, with a
tenderness in his voice of which few people would have believed him
capable. "The doctor humoured you, and told me to, so here goes!" He
called through the spea