a man there, who caught me in his arms and kissed me. How dared you place me in such a compromising situation?"

"I have explained that I was with his Excellency and could not get away. Do be reasonable! I'll lay a pony your kisses astonished Dale! Fire fresh from the forge of Vulcan would be cool in comparison. Come sit down again and--"

But she stood with her head turned from him, so that one of the most perfect lines of her divinely moulded form attracted his admiration. He jumped up and pressed his lips on her gleaming shoulder; this action changed her mood. Tearing off her mask she faced him.

"Leo," softly, and with tears in her voice and eyes, “you do love me?"

"I have no choice, my darling," and he drew her to him.

"Then-then-" hesitatingly, "you will not leave me to bear the brunt of our love alone?"

"I do not want you to bear anything alone-would that I could be with you always," he cried, carried away by the subtle fire her lustrous eyes ignited in his veins.

She was conscious that her basilisk power spread as she gazed up at him from where her head rested on his breast. She had meant to wring a promise of marriage from his reluctant lips, now she had the right to demand it.

"If it comes to a divorce you will marry me?”

The softly spoken words fell like a blow. Silently Lord St. Hilary groped in the darkness for some way out of this horrible mess; all the glamour of an instant before had vanished and he released her. Suddenly a light flashed in the giddy tumult of his brain, years of practised diplomacy enabled him to meet this crisis with unpremeditated finesse.

"Marriage is not for me," he said; "there are obstacles-no, do not interrupt me. As I have been instrumental in placing you in your present predicament, I will marry you, if you are divorced through Dale's testimony."

She held out her hands to him, but he either did not or would not see them.

"Now put on your mask, find Mr. Detmar, and go home. Then you will not have to unmask, and Dale cannot swear." "But I shall lose half the ball!"

"What's half a ball at Simla? If you act indiscreetly in this

matter, I shall not consider myself bound." He spoke as she had never heard him speak, and handed her the mask she had tossed on one side.

"You will come to-morrow?"

"We must see what turn affairs take-hush, I hear Mr. Detmar-go that way and you will meet him-say you have been resting here alone as you have a headache and wish to go home."

"I never knew you like this-you are horrid!”

"I feel so-autre temps autres mœurs, go!"

On the other side of the palms and arbutus Mrs. Detmar met her husband. He had awakened from his lethargic sleep and prowled round the secluded corners, hoping to discover her with the infatuated lordling whom it was his fixed purpose to make "pay for his poaching." So much for his intentions, when his wife placed her hand on his arm and expressed a wish to go home.

Meanwhile, Lord St. Hilary, going in the opposite direction, ran against Jack Dale.

"Who the d—1——?" so far, and then Lord St. Hilary recognised Jack. "I beg your pardon, but if you've been eavesdropping you deserve to be sworn at-should not have expected it of you, Dale. Let me pass, please," haughtily.

“One moment, I must explain," he spoke rapidly, standing in the other's path. "I was driven in by the damp, when I recognised the voice that had called me 'Leo,' the voice of the woman who came to me at Dance No. 4, and kissed me in mistake for you, Lord St. Hilary; spell-bound, I remained and heard all -I suspected before my suspicions were confirmed."

"Well?" striving to keep cool. "Now, will you permit me?" essaying to pass.

Not yet."

"Not yet-you say you know everything-there can be no more to tell."

Knowledge is power-how shall I employ mine ?"

"You would never betray us?"

"I am a poor man."

"I thought you were made of different stuff, Dale," contemptuously; "however, name the price of your silence."

"You have promised to marry Mrs. Detmar, if I——”

"Good G―d! I've promised to marry dozens of women in difficult positions-I shall be wrenched limb from limb!"

"I am in love," confessed Jack, his tones strongly contrasting with those of his distracted lordship; "the aim of my life is to marry, and I require your help."

"My dear fellow," inuch relieved, "you shall have it. I'll do anything make all the arrangements-order the tonga and relays of horses, pay the expenses-any mortal thing if you will only hold your tongue."

"The price of my silence is the post of Inspector of Gymnasia," tersely, and treating the above as mere trifling.

"Out of the question. I am not the man to apply to, and in fact it's promised to a nephew of the Lieutenant-Governor's." Jack made no comment.

"What you ask is impossible!"

"Not at all. I am in every way fitted for the appointment. Will you get it for me, Lord St. Hilary, or?”

Lord St. Hilary hesitated; never before had he been driven into such an awkward corner-in his heart he anathematized Dance No. 4. Approaching footsteps broke the silence of their retreat, which was so distant from the reception-rooms and cleverly contrived that few had penetrated its cool retirement. "Your answer?"

"Give me time!"

"I cannot. The matter does not brook delay; if you decide not to pay the price I ask, I must go elsewhere."

"You shall be paid," came from between his lordship's trembling lips, and he departed to attend to the arrangement of the supper guests, which was one of his onerous duties, in a most unenviable frame of mind.

"He thought woman was a beauteous thing,

But he never could abide the ring."

A Woman's Loyalty.

BY IZA DUFFUS HARDY.

Author of "A NEW OTHELLO," "Love, HONOUR AND OBEY,"
"LOVE IN IDLENESS," etc., etc.

"At the door of Life, by the gate of breath,

There are worse things waiting for men than Death!

Death could not sever my soul and you

As these have severed your soul from me!

CHAPTER I.

WIDOWED.

THE blinds of Grays Court were all drawn down; there was not a sign of life at any of the windows.

Although the May

afternoon sun shone brightly, the garden was deserted. No one strolled or loitered upon the lawn; no one lounged upon the verandah or balcony. The picturesque, old, red-brick house ought to have been a cheerful spot of colour against the blue sky; but there seemed something sinister in the silence that brooded over it like a shadow; the blank windows looked like eyes closed in sleep-or death. The only sound that broke the silence was the quick thud of horses' hoofs, the roll of the wheels of the light waggonette dashing briskly up the avenue from the outer gates of Grays Court to the house-door.

The two gentlemen in the waggonette looked up at the closed blinds, then at each other, and for a moment or two neither of them spoke a word.

Then one suggested:

"The sun beats on this side of the house?'

The other made no answer beyond a slight movement of the head. As the vehicle drew up, the hall-door was promptly thrown open a man-servant, black-coated, unsmiling, stood on the threshold to receive the visitors. Both sprang quickly to the ground; the one who had spoken before was the first to speak now.

"How is Mr. Charteris?"

"Mr. Charteris is dead, sir."

"Good Heavens! Dead? We are too late, Bruce!" he added, turning to his companion.

"When did he die?" the latter enquired.

"About half-past ten o'clock, sir. Would you please to step into the library?"

They did so. The room was darkened by the closed blinds; the stillness and shadow seemed oppressive; a faint odour as of stephanotis and tuberose-flowers of funereal association, of which the rich perfume brings sombre suggestion-floated down the stairs. Had tender hands already laid them by the lately dead?

"How is Mrs. Charteris?" inquired the first speaker in a tone of respectful sympathy.

"I believe she is pretty well, sir as well as could be expected. I will send up word to her that you and Mr. Wardlaw have arrived."

The two visitors were left alone. One walked to the window, the other lifted and laid down the books on the table. There was a marked contrast between these two. The one at the table, he who had taken the lead in all enquiries-Val Charteris

-was fair and tall and handsome, of well-proportioned and somewhat slender build, with an erect and graceful bearing, delicate, clear-cut features, slightly aquiline in contour, a low forehead, full sensitive lips, shaded by a golden tawny moustache, and large eyes of pure azure blue--eyes that had sometimes a dreamy softness, sometimes, but more rarely, a keen steely gleam. The other, Bruce Wardlaw, was not so tall, but of squarer and stronger make, sallow and dark, with straight level brows which, lowering heavily over deep-set eyes, gave him a certain intentness, and even sternness of expression. His features were cast in a noble mould, but rough-hewn and somewhat harsh in their general effect-as if Nature had originally intended to make his a handsome face, but had not taken time to give the little finishing touches. Bruce Wardlaw, with good material in his strong features, just missed being handsome, as his deep and not ungentle voice somehow missed sweetness, and his manner, quiet, brusque, and often cold, missed the grace and charm which made Val Charteris so generally popular.

The library door opened, and a young lady came in—a tall, fair