Tom was sitting very close to Irene, with his hand on the arm of her chair, and was talking to her as he did not often talk. His compliments pleased her and she was thinking him not so bad a cousin, after all, when he startled her by saying: “I say, Irene, how long are we going to keep up this farce of deceiving Rex?” Irene bridled at once, and the chords in her neck began to show as they did when she was getting angry, and little red spots came out on her face. “That’s for you and Rena to decide,” she said. “It was none of my getting up. I should never have thought of it. I am simply Rena’s tool and doing her bidding and you are as deep in it as I am, and deeper.” “That’s so,” Tom answered, good-humoredly. “I got into it and could not very well get out, but it seems to me it has gone far enough. I had thought I’d wait till Rex told me of the will. This he does not seem disposed to do, although I have tried to lead up to it a dozen times. He always sheers off as if he hated to speak of it. I don’t believe he takes to it kindly. I am going home to-night on business, and when I come back I have concluded to tell Rex of his mistake and take every whit of the blame myself. Don’t look so scared,” he continued, as he saw how white Irene turned. “If Rex Travers cares for you he is not the man to give you up because there is no money with you. And, Irene, pardon me, my great friendship for Rex is my excuse for what I’m about to say. If he does care for you, will you try your best to make him a good, true wife?” “What do you mean? What do you take me for? A good, true wife, indeed! As if I’d be anything else!” Irene answered, hotly, and Tom replied: “I’ve put my foot in it and I may as well be plain. We never agreed very well. I know you thoroughly. You have your good points. You are very clever and handsome. Yes, the handsomest woman I ever saw.” Irene’s face began to soften, but clouded again as Tom went on: “You can be an angel when you feel like it, and something else when you don’t. You are not open as the day, and it would hurt Rex cruelly to find you in any little underhand tricks such as you practice. You know you do. You study every act with a view to the result. Rex never told a lie in his life, nor acted one, and could scarcely forgive his wife if he caught her in one. Then you are pretty peppery, and Rex hasn’t a bit of that condiment in his makeup, and your voice, which can be like a turtle-dove when you choose, would frighten him if he heard it as croaky as I have heard it.” Tom was saying pretty hard things, and Irene was thoroughly angry for a moment, and there was not much of the turtle-dove in her voice as she said: “Tom Giles, you are insulting me!” “I believe my soul I am,” Tom answered, “and I beg your pardon, and I don’t know why I have been so plain, except that I want Rex to be happy.” Irene knew that Tom could help or hinder her cause, and with a great effort she controlled herself and said: