"No," said Harriet. "I shall remain at home this evening." When he left her, she closed and locked her desk, and resumed her place at the window. The general dinner-hour was drawing near, and gay groups were passing, on their way to the hotels and to the Kursaal. The English servant, after a time, told Harriet that the dinner she had ordered from a restaurant had been sent in; should it be served, or would she wait longer for Mr. Routh? Dinner might be served, Harriet answered. Still she did not leave the window. Presently an open carriage, drawn by gray ponies, whirled by. Mrs. Ireton P. Bembridge was unaccompanied, except by her groom. The carriage went towards the Schwarzchild House. She was going to dine at home, probably. The servant asked if she should close the blinds. No, Harriet preferred them left as they were; and when she had made a pretence of dining, she once more took her place by the window. Lights were brought, but she carried them to the table in the corner of the room, where her desk stood, and sat in the shadow, looking out upon the street. Soon the street became empty, rain fell in torrents, and the lights glimmered on the surface of the pools. The hours passed. Harriet sat motionless, except that once or twice she pressed her hands upon her temples. Once she murmured, half audibly: "I wonder if I am going mad?" At eleven o'clock Routh came home. He opened the door of the room in which Harriet was sitting, came in, and leaned against the wall without speaking. In quick instinctive alarm she went to the table in the corner, took up a candle, and Held it towards his face. He was quite pale, his eyes were glassy, his hair was disordered. In a moment Harriet saw, and saw for the first time in her life, that he was intoxicated. CHAPTER XXVI. RECOGNITION.