"I do."

"Philip," she said, hesitating, adorable in her embarrassment. "No! No!
No! I can't do it that way in cold blood. It's got to be 'Captain
Selwyn'. . . for a while, anyway. . . . Good-night."

He took her outstretched hand, laughing; the usual little friendly shake
followed; then she turned gaily away, leaving him standing before the
whitening ashes.

He thought the fire was dead; but when he turned out the lamp an hour
later, under the ashes embers glowed in the darkness of the winter
morning.




CHAPTER IV

MID-LENT


"Mid-Lent, and the Enemy grins," remarked Selwyn as he started for
church with Nina and the children. Austin, knee-deep in a dozen Sunday
supplements, refused to stir; poor little Eileen was now convalescent
from grippe, but still unsteady on her legs; her maid had taken the
grippe, and now moaned all day: "_Mon dieu! Mon dieu! Che fais mourir!_"

Boots Lansing called to see Eileen, but she wouldn't come down, saying