Then she sat dreaming on and wondering whether some reports she had heard about John Huish were true--reports of a very dishonourable nature, but which she had carefully hidden from her sister. "It may be all scandal," she murmured; "but I am getting hard now--so soon! ah, so soon! Where there is smoke, they say, there is fire. Poor Gerty! Better Lord Henry--who seems to love her--than that she should waste her days on a worthless man. And yet I liked John Huish. Uncle Robert likes him, too; and I never knew him wrong, in spite of his retired life." But it would be strange, she thought, if both she and her sister should have set the affections of their young hearts upon men who upon being tried proved to be unworthy of trust. "Poor Gerty!--poor me!" she said, half laughing. "It is a strange world, and perhaps, after all, our parents are right in choosing our partners for life." Then she started once more, for she knew that she was not alone, and on turning, there, in evening dress, his crush hat in his hand, and looking calm, handsome, and sardonic enough for an incarnation of the spirit of evil himself, stood Major Malpas. "Nervous, Mrs Morrison? Good-evening. Did you not hear me announced? No? Your carpets are so soft." He almost forced her to hold out her hand to him as she sat up, by extending his own, and he took it and raised it respectfully to his lips. "But where is Frank?" he asked. "My husband dines out this evening," said Renee coldly. "Indeed! how unfortunate! He asked me to run over one evening for a cup of coffee and a cigar. Perhaps he will return soon." "Not till quite late," said Renee, who tried hard not to show that she was troubled by the visit. "I am so glad to see you better, Renee," he said, taking a chair near her, and speaking in a low, earnest voice. Renee started, for it was the first time since her marriage that he had called her by her name; and as she met his eyes she felt that it was also the first time since the same event that he had gazed at her with such bold admiration. What could she do? She could not bid him leave her; and, besides, she felt that in a few minutes his gentlemanly instincts must lead him to go, and, indeed, what was there to fear? He was a gentleman--a friend of her husband--and he had called to see them. "How times are changed, Renee!" he said, after a pause, as he gazed at her pensively. "Once your eyes used to brighten and the colour flushed into your cheek when I came near. Now, is it a dream--a trick of fancy? I find you another's, and you turn from me with coldness." "Major Malpas," said Renee quietly, "is this a suitable way of addressing the wife of your friend?" The mask fell off at these words. "Friend!" he cried bitterly, as he drew his chair close to the couch on which she sat; "he is no friend of mine. Friend! What, the man who has robbed me of all that was dear--who has made my life a desert! Friend? Renee, you mock me by using such a word."