excuse me for having kept you in the dark a little--it amused me
so much to hear your suspicions."

Mrs. Hilary rose to her feet.

"Well, what are you going to say?" she asked.

I laughed, as I answered: "Why, I was the man with Lady Mickleham
when your friend and Berry inter--when they arrived, you know."

Well, I should have thought--I should still think--that she would
have been pleased--relieved, you know, to find her uncharitable
opinion erroneous, and pleased to have it altered on the best
authority. I'm sure that is how I should have felt. It was not,
however, how Mrs. Hilary felt.

"I am deeply pained," she observed after a long pause; and then
she held out her hand.

"I was sure you'd forgive my little deception," said I, grasping
it. I thought still that she meant to bury all unkindness.

"I should never have thought it of you," she went on.

"I didn't know your friend was there at all," I pleaded; for by
now I was alarmed.

"Oh, please don't shuffle like that," said Mrs. Hilary.

She continued to stand, and I rose to my feet. Mrs. Hilary held