Honora was busily talking to young Mrs. Fifield--he remembered the name now. Apparently she had forgotten his existence. At first this annoyed him; he determined to force his way into their attention, but a wiser realization held him where he was. Honora was exactly right: he had nothing in common with these people, probably not one of them would come into his life or house again. And his wife, in the fact of her marriage, had clearly signified how little important they were to her. His father joined him. “You made certain when the New York packet leaves?” he queried. “Everything's fixed,” Jason reassured him. “Your mother wanted to see you. But she got set and is kind of timid about moving.” Jason rose promptly, and, with the elder, found Mrs. Hazzard Burrage. “I'd like to have Honora, too,” the latter told them, and Jason turned sharply to find her. When they stood facing the old couple his mother hesitated doubtfully; then she put out her hand to the woman in wedding array. But Honora ignored it; leaning forward she kissed the round, bright cheek. “You have to be patient with them at times,” the mother said, looking up anxiously. “I'm afraid Jason will need that warning,” Honora replied; “he is a very imprudent man.” ***** Jason's mind returned to this later, sitting in the house that had been the Canderays', but which now was his too. Honora's remark to his mother had been clear in itself, but it suggested wide speculations beyond his grasp. For instance--why, after all, had Honora married him? He was forced to acknowledge that it was not the result of any overwhelming feeling for him. The manner of their wedding, the complete absence of the emotion supposed to be the incentive of such consummations, Honora herself, all, denied any effort to fix such a personally satisfactory cause. That she might have had no other opportunity--Honora was not so young as she had been--he dismissed as obviously absurd. Why---- His gaze was fastened upon the carpet, and he saw that time and the passage of feet had worn away the design. He looked about the room, and was surprised to discover a general dinginess which he had never noticed before. He said nothing, but, in his movements about the house, examined the furnishings and walls, and an astonishing fact was thrust upon him--the celebrated dwelling was grievously run down. It was plain that no money had been spent on it for years. The carriage, too, and the astrakhan collar on Coggs' coat, were worn out.