"Naturally!" said Thurston, coldly. If she wished to go out with her family, why had she not consulted him first, he thought, instead of considering it sufficient to merely apprise him of her intention. "I won’t ask you to waste your night," she said, carelessly, endeavoring to make it apparent that she was quite innocent of any departure from the conventional order of things. He looked at her again, in astonishment. Why should she assume a night spent with her was wasted? It was an evident fact he was not wanted. "But, you can call for me," she wound up, airily. "Where?" "Oh, they’ve mapped out a programme," she answered, irrelevantly. "Grandma Chazy knows what’s to be seen." She turned to leave the room, as though summarily dismissing the subject. "I am only your husband, it is true, but I think I have a right to know, if my wife goes out, where she is going." Indiana paused half way to the door. "I’m going to dine with them at the Cecil, where they are stopping." He was silent. She waited, in some suspense, for a remark, her hand on the door. "I am sorry to disappoint you—but I cannot permit you to go," he said, at length, slowly. "It’s not the place for Lady Canning. It may be all very well for strangers—sight-seers—but London is our home. These places are resorts for foreigners, professional women, men-about-town, and others, who delight to bask in the public eye. I have another reason. I do not wish you to be seen in public, until I have formally presented you—as my wife." He approached her and removing her hand gently from the handle of the door, led her back into the room. She went unwillingly, her head drooping. "Indiana," he put his hand under her chin and lifted her face, so that her eyes met his. "I don’t wish to force you, but to convince you. Admit it would be a very foolish and inconsistent thing to do." "Yes, but that’s just why I want to do it," she answered, wilfully deaf to the note of appeal in his voice. "You child! Come now," he forced her gently to lie down on the sofa. "Quiet that eager little mind of yours," tucking her carefully in a rug. "Shut those restless American eyes and sleep for a while. Dream yourself into good humor again." He closed her eyes, patting her cheek tenderly. "Thurston, they’ve got a surprise for me," she said, piteously. "What, another!" he exclaimed. "Your nerves won’t stand any more surprises to-night. Now, in one hour, I shall come in and awaken my sleeping beauty with a kiss." Indiana made a little grimace and shut her eyes tightly. He watched her for a moment. "Asleep already," bending over her, "or sulking—which?" She flung the rug from her, suddenly sitting up. "Thurston, I want to go. Thurston, why can’t I go?"