you dreaming of? Do l ever go to a party
without you? And is it likely that the
Frosts would invite me alone?"

Mrs. Lovegrove, a little ashamed of her
too hasty conclusion, murmured something
to the effect that there was no knowing
what "that woman" might not do.

"But I am not going to see ' that
woman;' I am going to see 'that man.'
My visit is solely on business."

"It's a strange hour to have a business
appointment. I think, Augustus, that you
might consecrate your evenings to domestic
peace! I'm sure you work hard enough
in the day, poor old Gus!" said Mrs.
Lovegrove.

The lady's sudden descent from the
regions of lofty severity to undignified and
familiar affection, was due to the pressure
of her husband's arm encircling her waist,
and the touch of her husband's lips on her
forehead.

"You know I never want to leave you
and the girls, Sally. But I want to speak
to Frost particularly. I must speak with
him. Give me a kiss, Sally. I don't go
because I like going, and I shan't spend a
pleasant time, you may depend on it."

Mrs. Lovegrove was very sincerely fond
of her husband; and, as she marked his
face and gauged the tone of his voice, she
perceived that there was, as she phrased
it, "something on his mind." And she
refrained from saying another provoking
word to add to the burden. Mr. Lovegrove
walked part of the way towards Bayswater,
meaning to pursue his journey from a
certain point in the omnibus. But the night
was fine, and the walk was agreeable to
the lawyer after his day spent busily in a
hot, close office; and he therefore strolled
on and on, until he found that he might as
well proceed to his destination on foot.
Thus, as it turned out, it was close on ten
o'clock by the time he reached Mr. Frost's
house in Bayswater. He had no need to
knock or ring for admittance. The street
door was open, and a couple of servants—
a man and a woman—were lounging on the
steps enjoying the evening air.

"Is Mr. Frost within?" asked Lovegrove,
almost fearing to be answered in the
negative.

"Mr.—not Mrs?" asked the man, who
did not at first recognise Mr. Lovegrove.
The visits of the latter to Bayswater were
not frequent enough to render his face very
familiar to the servants there.

"Mr. Frost. I wish to see your master
if he is at home."

"Oh, Mr. Lovegrove! I beg pardon,
sir, I asked because my mistress is gone.
I suppose you know."

"Gone! Good Heavens, not dead?"

"Oh no, sir; but she has left master,
sir. I shouldn't say anything only you're
of course so intimate, and such a friend."

"I had heard nothing! I had no idea!
Perhaps you are mistaken. Mrs. Frost has
merely gone on a visit—for a time. It can't
be!"

"Well, sir, I'm afraid you'll find it is
true. As for our knowing it, why, we
couldn't help ourselves. The next-door
neighbours might have known it—very
likely they do." (The speaker had already
discussed the affair in its minutest details
with half the servants in the neighbourhood.)
"And I'm glad you've chanced to
come up to-night, sir, for master's in a
awful state—indeed, I thought that was
what you come for."

Mr. Lovegrove was in consternation.

"Do you think I had better try to see
him?" he asked, doubtfully.

The very fact of his asking the servant's
opinion would have sufficed to prove
to any one who knew Mr. Lovegrove the
extraordinary perturbation of his spirit.

"I think you had, sir. Some one ought
to see him. He's shut hisself up in his
study since six o'clock, and wouldn't take
food, nor do nothing. Half an hour ago
he opened his door and called to us that we
might go to bed, and shut up the house as
soon as we liked. We weren't to go near
him again. He wanted nothing."

"I will go in," said Mr. Lovegrove. I
don't want you. I know my way."

The door of the little room behind the
dining-room, which Mr. Frost occupied as
his study, was shut. Mr. Lovegrove approached
it and paused, hesitating whether
or not he should knock for admission. But
after a moment, he turned the handle and
went in.

Frost was sitting at a table with writing
materials upon it. A tumbler with some
brandy in it stood by his right hand. On
the other side was placed a polished wooden
box of peculiar shape. Before him lay
two or three sheets of letter-paper closely
covered with writing. At the opening of
the door he looked up quietly, and tossed
some papers over the box that stood on the
table. He had expected to see the servant
merely. When he recognised Lovegrove,
his face changed, and he looked at him
fixedly. Lovegrove had no need to ask a
question. The haggard countenance that