In her heart Selia was not quite sure whether Scrogg was an offspring of the Majpottels minds or whether a pretty attention of her dear Harolds so she said nothing. And as a matter of fact it was Gerald who had done it, knowing she needed a woman’s care, and he had got Scrogg at great cost from a Lord, for he too in his way was one to stick at nothing. CHAPTER TEN It was quite late in fact it was almost eight when Selia came back and tho she knew she had done no wrong she felt a little sly as she quickly slipped up the hotel stares, gazed on by the usual knot of folk who hung around to get a peep of her and Harold in the hotel lounge. She panted into the eating apartment. No one. So she popped up into her room where Scrogg sat eating a sandwich, and got off her white which was now dashed, and Scrogg fluffed her hair out archly, and put her into a evening gown, making her tuck her vest straps under her arms and expose a great deal too much or so she felt but Scrogg said no it had to be so. Scrogg then told her one or two things which opened her eyes. But she affected to hear nothing altho really it soaked in. After a gaze in the mirror which pleased her as she looked quite like a lady by now with waved hair and a sleek traily gown of black with lace streamers hanging, and all her neck and front and half her back bare, she sailed from the room as Scrogg told her a rather diffrent walk is needed in the evening much more snake-like. Entering once more the eating-apartment, she found the white-hatted chef alone, altho’ the table was set. “Where is Mr. Withersq” said she. “I am afraid he is not well” the chief replied “he entered a little while ago, with pale look, and went away again.” Like a hen robbed of her young Selia darted to the room of her Harold. There spread on the imense wooden bed with four posts, lay her devestated Harold, and the blinds were down. Tiptoeing in “What is it, what is it” she cried, “Have you written too much?” “It is not that,” came the mournful voice of our hero from the bed, “it is worse. I am a ruined man.” “Oh, Harold!” gasped the distracted Selia in dismay. A great groan burst from his brest. Together they sobbed a while. “Come” said Selia at last “I command you tell me what it is. Are you married in secret?” “No, not so bad as that perhaps, because it can be cured.” “Are you going to prison? Are you mad?” “No, no” sniveled the wretched man. “I cant tell you.” “Dont say the money has gone!” “Ah no” cried he of a sudden sitting up at the mere idear, “ah no! I think we shall yet win, but it is a bad mess I am in.” And so he sobbed out his sad story.