A long and truly eloquent silence, lasting for fully a quarter of a mile. Alice thought of the last time they had walked together arm-in-arm up and down the long gallery at Looton, the evening before he had started for Cannes. What an age it seemed since then! What changes had occurred! He was more changed than all else, she felt, as she stole a glance at him. His clear-cut profile looked coldly severe in the moonlight, his eyes were fixed on the horizon, and his thoughts seemed at least a thousand miles away. The moon, which had risen behind the park trees, was now sailing proudly overhead, and looked down full-faced on this strangely-silent couple. The rattle of an approaching dog-cart and the sound of a horse’s hoofs aroused them from their reflections. Two young men in evening dress, evidently going out to dinner. They favoured Alice with a hard stare, and Reginald with a knowing look, as they dashed past. “Pretty girl!” and “Lucky dog!” was borne upon the breeze as they rounded a corner, leaving behind them a cloud of dust. As Alice put up her hand to ward off a volume of it, her wedding-ring glittered in the moonlight, and, for the first time, caught her husband’s eye. “So you have replaced your wedding-ring, I see,” he observed, as they entered the avenue-gates. “I have,” she replied in a low voice. “What an interesting ceremony it must have been,” he remarked sarcastically. “What _do_ you mean?” asked Alice, gazing up at him with unrestrained astonishment. “Did you swear to love, honour, and obey Alice Fairfax? I have often heard of people being wedded to self, but such an utterly barefaced proceeding as yours I never met with before.” Alice had never thoroughly realised till now how bitterly he had resented her treatment of his wedding-ring. “Where is my own ring?” she asked with a reckless boldness that surprised herself. “I wear it on my watch-chain.” “Will you ever give it back to me?” she inquired, more and more amazed at her own audacity. He paused and stood still for a moment, and eyeing his wife with cool unspeakable amazement, said: “Will I give you back your wedding-ring? When you deserve it I may; but,” he added slowly and impressively, “as far as I can judge at present, that will _never_ be.” He felt her little hand tremble on his arm, he saw her lips quiver, a mist come over her deep-fringed eyes. Seized with sudden compunction, he said: “I am afraid I am always giving you rude brusque answers, but you brought this on yourself. The past three years have not been calculated to improve a man’s temper, have they?” She looked up. “You know you don’t deserve your wedding-ring, do you?” said he, taking her hand. “Do you?” he added pertinaciously. “I suppose not,” faltered Alice, gulping down her tears with a painful effort. “You _suppose_ not!” he echoed impatiently. “Well, I am very certain you don’t; and the ring is likely to remain in my keeping.”