twinkling satirically. "And I promise you I'll think over the position very carefully and see what I can do. Meanwhile, you needn't have the boys any more if they're disagreeable to you."

"They're not disagreeable," I faltered; "but---"

"Yes, I understand-want the house to yourself. All right! I'll give them the straight tip. I can see them elsewhere, you know; they're not bound to come here often."

"Elsewhere?" I questioned in some bewilderment. "Where, Honoria, if not here?"

"Oh, all sorts of places," she answered laughingly. "On the river, at the Grosvenor, Hurlingham-heaps of old haunts we used to go to."

"But suppose I object, Honoria," I said with warmth. "Suppose I do not approve of your meeting the 'boys' at these different haunts, what then?"

"Oh, you won't be such an old goose," she replied cheerfully. "You know there's no harm, no real mean lowness about me, don't you?"

Her clear eyes met mine straightly and truthfully as star-beams.

"Yes, I know, Honoria," I said gently but seriously; "I am perfectly aware of your goodness and honour, my dear-but there is such a thing as gossip; and that you should go about at all with these young men seems to

me like a rash laying of yourself open to society backbiting and scandal."

"Not a bit of it," she averred. "Lots of women do it-in fact, I've not yet come across a married woman who wants to set up for a prude in these days! And I couldn't drop the boys altogether, you know-poor chaps, they'd feel it awfully! Now don't be so down in the mouth, Willie. Cheer up! As I told you, I'm going to think over the position and see what I can do for you."

Just at that moment a wild screech from the nursery announced more sufferings on the part of Master Hatwell-Tribkin.

"Doesn't he just yell!" remarked Honoria serenely. "Lungs of seasoned leather he must have! Ta-ta!"

And with a light wave of her hand she left me to my own reflections, which were very far indeed from being consolatory. What a strange difficulty I was in! There was not a tinge of wickedness, not the least savour of deceit, about Honoria. She was as honest and true as steel, and yet--yet I was never more dismally conscious of anything in my life than that the time was approaching when I might find it no longer possible to endure her company!

CHAPTER V.

THE next day, having business in that particular neighbourhood, I lunched at the Criterion. I had scarcely sat down to my modest chop and potatoes when two gentlemen entered and took the table just behind me, and glancing round in a casual sort of way I recognized in one of them the Earl of Richmoor. He was a good-looking fellow, with rather a thoughtful yet kindly face, and a very "winning" smile. I had only met him on one occasion at a large "at home" given by Honoria's mother, and it was not likely he would have any very distinct recollection of me; so I kept my back carefully turned, not wishing to obtrude myself upon his notice. Presently, however, something he was saying to his friend attracted my attention. With my knife and fork suspended in air I listened anxiously.

"It's a thousand pities," he remarked. "She's a handsome creature, wonderfully clever and spirited. was half inclined to fall in love with her myself at one time, but, by Jove! I wanted a woman, you know, not a semi-man in petticoats!"

"She won't wear petticoats long, I should say," returned the other man with a laugh. "If report knows

anything about her, she'll be in trousers before she's many years older."

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Richmoor, and I heard him pouring out wine into his glass. "If she does I shall have to cut her, though she is Georgie's sister!"

Down clattered my knife and fork, and I drank a large gulp of water to cool my feverish agitation. It was my wife they were talking of! and my ears tingled with shame and anger. My wife! My Honoria!

"She's a good woman, you know," added Richmoor presently. "Never plays a double game-couldn't be false if she tried. In fact her only fault is that horrible masculinity of hers; she thinks it's 'the thing,' unfortunately; she fancies men admire it. Poor soul! if she only knew! Of course there are some young asses who like to see women smoking and who encourage them to do it, and a few despicable snobs who urge them to shoot and go deer-stalking; but these sort of gaby fellows are in the minority after all. It's a most pitiable thing to see otherwise nice women wilfully going out of their natural sphere."

"It is exceedingly so," agreed his friend energetically. "I can't think why they do it; they only get laughed at in the long run. That woman Stirling, of Glen Ruach, helped to spoil Honoria Maggs; she's a regular cad. Have you ever met her?"

"No."

"Oh, she dresses as nearly like a man as is compatible with the present convenances; cuts her hair quite short, wears shirt-fronts and men's ties, shoots, bags her game, goes after salmon (she landed two the other day weighing twelve pounds each), rides a tricycle, has a perfect mania for fox-hunting (always in at the death), and smokes-ye gods, how she does smoke! She's got a regular Turkish pipe in her boudoir, and is always at it."

"Disgusting!" said Richmoor.

band?"

"Where's her hus

"Where?" and the other laughed. "Not with her, you may depend upon it! Couldn't stand her for long! He's in India, beating up tigers in the jungle, I believe; most probably he thinks it better to be torn to pieces by tigers than live with such a wife."

"Talking of husbands, I wonder how poor HatwellTribkin gets on," said Richmoor meditatively. "He must have an awful time of it, I expect!"

I could stand this no longer. Rising abruptly from my seat I seized my hat and umbrella and grasped them convulsively in one hand; then, approaching the next table, I forced a politely awful smile and laid my visiting card solemnly down beside Richmoor's plate without a word!

He started violently and his face flushed deeply, the colour spreading to the very roots of his hair.