After putting another log on the fire, Jennings opened the window and looked out. Then he closed it, with a sigh, and stood in the shadow of the draperies watching Thurston, with his heart in his eyes. The clock commenced to strike. Thurston, sitting with his head over his book, ceased to hope. Every silvery chime fell on his head with a dull weight of pain. What had she not left him to infer from the fact of her not coming? Contempt, indifference, even fear. At the last stroke of twelve he raised his head and looked over at Jennings. The old man was the image of misery. Answering the command in Thurston’s eyes, he slowly took a bunch of keys from his pocket. "I’ll only put up the chain, yer lordship, in case—" He looked imploringly at Thurston. "Lock it fast," answered Thurston. "Take the key out as usual, and go at once to bed." The old man made a silent motion of assent, and tottered to the door. Suddenly there was a loud knock. "Ah, here she is at last!" cried Jennings. "Here’s her little leddyship!" Thurston sprang to his feet with an involuntary exclamation of joy. "My wife, my Indiana," he thought. "She has come at the very last moment—a sudden impulse to do right. Thank heaven!" Jennings entered slowly, followed by Glen Masters. *CHAPTER XVIII.* *Awakening.* "This is rather a late visit, Lord Canning," began Glen, in a slightly embarrassed manner. He also refrained from offering his hand. "But I—I left the folks about ten o’clock, and I—I’ve been driving about the city trying to collect my thoughts." Thurston silently offered him a chair, suffering the reaction of his sudden access of joy. "Indiana told me you generally sit up after she retires, so I waited late to find you alone and have it out with you." Thurston met Glen’s intense gaze with one of polite surprise. "Oh, indeed! I was not aware there was any subject to be thrashed out between you and me." "Indiana’s unhappy. I can’t see it—it—it—breaks my heart." "You are a very young man, sir," answered Thurston, coldly, "and closely connected with my wife and her family, otherwise I should consider this a piece of impertinence." "I don’t mean it in that way. I’m square and above board, and I hate anything clandestine. This is a case of a husband and wife, and another man who loves her. I’m the other man. Now kick me out." "I should assuredly do so, if you were an Englishman. But in your case I will only beg you to explain your meaning—I am always willing to learn." He felt obliged to take Glen seriously, yet he was conscious of feeling amused, in spite of his suffering. "Er—have a cigarette?" asked Glen, offering his case. Though he had been braced with confidence when he entered, he felt now very much embarrassed and at a disadvantage. "Indiana won’t be likely to come in, will she? I hope she’s safe in bed."