I returned to the card tables and tapped the old man on his shoulder as he was scooping up the stake he had just won and was stuffing it into his pocket. He turned on me savagely. "Well, you drunkard, you!" "Where is Iolanthe?" "I don't know. Go find her." And he went on playing. The other gentlemen looked embarrassed, but acted as though nothing had happened. "Won't you try your luck, young Benedict?" they clamoured. So I made off with all haste, for I knew my weakness. Had I taken a hand, there would have been another scandal. I sneaked around outside the dancing hall. I did not feel equal to meeting the glances of the dowagers. In the corridor a tin kitchen lamp was smoking, from the pantries came the rattle of plates and the giggling of half-drunken kitchen maids. Awful! I knocked on the door of Iolanthe's room. No answer. Knocked again. Everything quiet. So I went in. And what did I see? My mother-in-law sitting on the edge of the bed and my wife kneeling beside her dressed already in her black travelling gown, her head in her mother's lap, and both women crying. It was enough to move a stone to pity. Oh, gentlemen, how I felt! I should have liked to rush to my carriage, call "To the station" to the coachman, and take the first train out of the place--to America, or any place where embezzling cashiers and prodigal sons go to and disappear. But that wouldn't do. "Iolanthe," I said humbly and contritely. Both the women screamed. My wife clasped her mother's knees, while the mother put protecting arms around her. "I won't annoy you, Iolanthe; I only ask your forgiveness because, out of love for you, I was so reckless." A long silence--broken only by her sobbing. Then her mother spoke. "He is right, child. You must get up. It's time for you to be going." Iolanthe rose slowly, her cheeks wet, her eyes red as fire, her body still shaken with sobs. "Give him your hand. It can't be helped." Very pleasant remark--"It can't be helped." And Iolanthe gave me her hand, and I raised it reverently to my lips. "George, have you seen my husband?" asked my mother-in-law. "Yes." "Please call him. Iolanthe wants to say good-bye." I went back to the card room. "Father!" "Twelve, sixteen, twenty-seven, thirty-one." "Father!" "Thirty-three--what do you want?" "We want to say good-bye." "Well--go--and God bless you--and be happy!--thirty-six----" "Don't you want to see Iolanthe?" "Thirty-nine--won!--out with the cash!--who's still got the courage for another? George, won't you take a little flyer with us?" I got out of the room. I told the ladies as considerately as I could that the Baron would not come. They merely looked at each other and then led the way through the smoky corridor to the back steps, where the carriage was waiting. The wind was whistling in our ears and a few scattering raindrops struck our faces. The two women clung to each other without saying anything as though they would never let each other go.