down, and it appears that you think it all quite natural."

"Certainly not, as I have got rid of her."

"Really! You have got rid of her! But you ought to have given her in
charge. In such cases, one ought to call in the Commissary of Police!"

"But--my dear--I really could not. There was no reason. It
would have been very difficult----"

She shrugged her shoulders disdainfully. "There! you will never be
anything but a poor, wretched fellow, a man without a will, without any
firmness or energy. Ah! she must have said some nice things to you, your
Julie, to make you turn her off like that. I should like to have been
here for a minute, only for a minute." Then she opened the drawing-room
door and ran to George, took him into her arms and kissed him, and said:
"Georgie, what is it, my darling, my pretty one, my treasure?"

Then, suddenly turning to another idea, she said: "But the child has had
no dinner? You have had nothing to eat, my pet?"

"No, mamma."

Then she again turned furiously upon her husband. "Why, you must be mad,
utterly mad! It is half-past eight, and George has had no dinner!"

He excused himself as best he could, for he had nearly lost his wits
through the overwhelming scene and the explanation, and felt crushed by
this ruin of his life. "But, my dear, we were waiting for you, as I did
not wish to dine without you. As you come home late every day, I expected