In the afternoon she was called to the telephone. It was her brother-in-law, Mr. De Jarnette, who was speaking. He called her up to say that Victor would not be home to dinner and perhaps not until quite late. He had had to go to Baltimore upon a business matter that could not be postponed, and he had just had a message from him saying that he (Richard) would have to come over, too, in order to make the deal go through. There was a possibility--a bare possibility--that they might not be able to get through in time to get back that night, but in that case Victor would telegraph her along in the afternoon. He was telling her about it now so that if the telegram came she would not feel alarmed. Perhaps she had better telephone to Judge and Mrs. Kirtley to come over and stay with her until Victor got back. Oh, no, she replied, she would not be at all afraid. She sat down thinking with a sudden pang how strange it would seem to have somebody looking out for her comfort all the time. Victor often stayed out as late as that. Suddenly she felt appalled to perceive how certain she felt that this was the truth. She had not even questioned it. Margaret did not know her brother-in-law very well. He had been to the house a few times, but always in a perfunctory way. She felt that he would have prevented the marriage if he could, and this had always stood between them. His considerate thoughtfulness of her was most unexpected. Toward night the telegram came. Margaret opened it without looking at the address. She stared at it uncomprehendingly at first. It was signed by the woman she had seen in Rock Creek Park, and it should have gone to the office. When Victor De Jarnette got home in the early evening his wife was waiting for him with the telegram in her hand. It is not the purpose of this narrative to give that interview. There were pointed questions and evasive answers. There were criminations and recriminations on one side, and shuffling, prevarication, and finally defiance on the other. "Women expect too much," Victor said, harshly, at last. "If they demanded less they would get more." "I am not speaking of women--nor of unreasonable demands," she said. "Perhaps they do--I don't know. But Victor!" Margaret spoke with impassioned pleading, "_I_ ask only the same fidelity I give. Is that too much?" She faced him squarely with the question, her eyes burning into his very soul. Only the clock's tick broke the silence. Upon his answer, in word and deed, hung the destiny of his life and hers; of his home and hers; of his child, his unborn child, and hers. "Is that too much?" she repeated. He temporized. "It is more than most women get. I can tell you that." "Don't put me off. Is it more than I will get?" Her breast was heaving and her breath coming hard.