quietly was there any truth in that: then her hands trembled, and her
eyes drank him.

Christopher read it, and frowned; then he looked up, and said, "No, not
a word. What scoundrels there are in the world! To go and tell you that,
NOW! Why, you little goose! have you been silly enough to believe it?"

"No," said she irresolutely. "But DO you drive the brougham out every
night?"

"Except Sunday."

"Where?"

"My dear wife, I never loved you as I love you now; and if it was not
for you, I should not drive the brougham out of nights. That is all I
shall tell you at present; but some day I'll tell you all about it."

He took such a calm high hand with her about it, that she submitted to
leave it there; but from this moment the serpent doubt nibbled her.

It had one curious effect, though. She left off complaining of trifles.

Now it happened one night that Lady Cicely Treherne and a friend were at
a concert in Hanover Square. The other lady felt rather faint, and Lady
Cicely offered to take her home. The carriages had not yet arrived,
and Miss Macnamara said to walk a few steps would do her good: a smart
cabman saw them from a distance and drove up, and touching his hat said,
"Cab, ladies?"