‘Yes! Was there any harm in that?’ replies her husband. ‘Our talk was solely on business. Is anything the matter, Ethel, darling? You are not at all like yourself this morning.’ But the only answer Mrs Dunstan gives him is indicated by her suddenly rising and leaving the room. She is not the sort of woman to tell her husband frankly what she feels. She thinks—and perhaps she is right—that to openly touch so delicate a matter as a dereliction from the path of marital duty, is to add fuel to the flame. But she suffers terribly, and in her excited condition Colonel Dunstan’s open avowal appears an aggravation of his offence. ‘He is too noble to deceive me,’ she thinks, ‘and so he will take refuge in apparent frankness. He confesses he admires her, and he will tell me every time he goes there, and then he will say,— ‘How can you suspect me of any wrong intention when I am so open with you?’ ‘Business indeed! As if he could have any business with a doll like Mrs Lawless. It is shameful of her to flirt with married men in this disgraceful way.’ Yet Mrs Dunstan and Mrs Lawless meet at the band that evening, and smile and bow to and talk with one another as if they were the best friends in the world; but the colonel is prevented by duty from doing more than arrive in time to take his wife home to dinner, and so Ethel’s heart is for the while at rest. But during dinner a dreadful blow falls upon her. A note is brought to the colonel, which he reads in silence and puts into the pocket of his white drill waistcoat. ‘From Mr Hazlewood, dear?’ says Ethel interrogatively. ‘No, my love, purely on business,’ replies the colonel, as he helps himself to wine. But when the meal is concluded he walks into his dressing-room, and reappears in his mess uniform. ‘Going to mess, Charlie?’ exclaims his wife, in a tone of disappointment. ‘No, my darling—business! I may be late. Good-night!’ and he kisses her and walks out of the house. ‘Business!’ repeats Mrs Dunstan emphatically; and as soon as his back is turned, she is searching his suit of drill. Colonel Dunstan has not been careful to conceal or destroy the note he received at dinner. It is still in his waistcoat pocket. His wife tears it open and reads:— ‘DEAR COLONEL,—Do come over this evening if possible. I have had another letter, which you must see. I depend upon you for everything. You are the only friend I have in the world. Pray don’t fail me.—Ever yours gratefully, ‘CISSY LAWLESS.’