Eugene Mallard flung down the cigar which he had just lighted as soon as the girls passed, and made his way from the place.

He resisted the impulse to turn fiercely upon them and demand how they dared to speak of his young wife in that manner. It required all his strength of will to keep down his anger.

He passed the two girls on the path a moment later, and though they gave a start, they believed that he had not heard their remarks, for he did not betray his anger in his face.

Eugene looked about for his wife. His eyes wandered sharply around as he threaded his way among the dancers. But Ida was not visible.

[165]

Crossing the lawn, he encountered Vivian Deane and Captain Drury. She was looking her sweetest in pale-blue summer silk half veiled by white lace and pink rosebuds.

He would have passed them by, with a few forced words of pleasantry, but Vivian would not have it so.

"You have not danced once this afternoon, Eugene," she said; "and a host who does his duty should figure in some of the waltzes at least. Are you looking for a partner now? Shall I find you one?"

"No; thanks, Vivian," he answered. "I am looking for my—my wife. Do you know where she is?"

"Yes," returned Vivian. "I saw her a moment ago. Let me see where it was. Oh, yes; I remember—down by the clump of oaks. She and Mr. Hollis had danced four consecutive dances together, and were resting. By the way," she added, with a gay little laugh, and something like a pout on her pretty red lips, "you must tell her not to monopolize Mr. Hollis, Eugene. It is too bad of her. It does not give a single girl a fair chance, you know."

Vivian moved away with the captain after giving him that parting shot, and Eugene was not rendered much easier by her last words, although they were apparently gayly and carelessly spoken.

He walked hurriedly to the further end of the grounds, and there, under a huge oak-tree, he caught a glimpse of a filmy white dress.

Advancing, he saw his wife sitting there, with Arthur Hollis beside her.

Neither saw him. Ida's eyes were fixed upon a crimson rose she was recklessly plucking to pieces. She seemed to be hardly heeding her companion's words.

Arthur was leaning back against the oak-tree, looking down at the dark, curly head, and he was speaking earnestly in a tone hardly above a whisper.

A handsome couple they looked, and surely like nothing so much as lovers.

Eugene realized this, and a feeling of wrath took possession of him. He did not love her; in fact, there[166] were times when he told himself that he hated her with the bitterest kind of hatred; but she bore his name, and she must not be allowed to set the tongues of gossipers wagging.

Eugene knew that she did not mean anything by receiving the attentions of handsome Arthur Hollis, his friend. She was but a young girl, after all, and she thoughtlessly allowed herself to drift into this most wretched flirtation.

His thoughts went no deeper, no further than that; but that was far enough, and for the sake of her good name, this thoughtless, reckless nonsense must be stopped. He trusted her implicitly, yet he felt a mad, unreasonable rage against the two sitting there.

It was well his will was so strong and his temper so well under control, or he could not have advanced as calmly as he did.

Ida was dressed in white. It struck him that she looked very beautiful. But just then her beauty seemed to exasperate and harden her husband toward her.

Ida glanced up, and seeing him, started.

Arthur Hollis appeared a little uncomfortable, but after the first sharp glance, Eugene Mallard did not look at him, feeling that he could not trust himself to do so. He addressed his wife, looking at her with a dark frown on his face.

"Vivian told me you were here," he began. "Are you going to dance the next set?"

Her face flushed, her hands trembled. Was he, her husband, coming to ask her to dance with him? His next words showed her how mad she had been to cherish such a hope.

"I was going to ask Vivian to dance," he said. "I see there are three couples standing over there ready to dance. It will require one more couple to fill up the set."

With something like haughty pride, she raised her dark head.

"I shall not dance," said Ida, in a cold, bitter voice. "I am tired."

[167]

Arthur Hollis had the grace to laughingly excuse himself. He had been enjoying his tête-à-tête, and the sudden............