Northrop Hall was almost empty of its guests that evening. They, of course, knew what everybody’s suspicions now pointed to, and while it was unpleasant to leave abruptly, felt that it would be an especially tactful thing to Godfrey Palliser accepted their excuses with dry concurrence, but he pressed Violet Wayne and her aunt to remain. It would be a kindness, he said, because Tony seemed considerably distressed by the affair. The girl fancied that he appeared so when he came into the room where she sat beside a sinking fire. Only one lamp was lighted and the room was dim; while a cold wind wailed outside, and the rain beat upon the windows. Tony shivered, and his face seemed a trifle haggard when he stopped and leaned on the back of her chair. “It is a wild night, he said. “Tell me what you are thinking, Tony,” said the girl, “I fancy I know.” “I was thinking of the big liner driving through the blackness with Bernard on board. She will be plunging forecastle under into the Atlantic combers now. I almost wish I were on board her too.” “But I should be here,” the girl said softly. “Do you want to leave me, Tony?” Tony laughed. “Oh, I talk at random now and then, and I’m not quite myself to‐day. That confounded coroner made me savage for one thing. Did you feel it very much?” “Can’t you see that I am tired, dear?” Tony, who moved a little, saw it plainly by the pallor of her face and the weariness in her eyes. “I felt I could have killed the officious beast,” he said, and stood still, looking down on her irresolutely. “But whatever did you give Bernard ten pounds for, Violet?” “Is there any reason why I should tell you?” “Yes”—and the man’s tone suggested that he felt his grievance was warranted. “I think there is. Of course, I’m not a censorious person—I can’t afford to be—but it really didn’t seem quite the thing, you know.” The protest was perhaps natural, but Violet Wayne checked a little sigh. She was in love with Tony, and that meant a good deal, but he was trying now and then, and she had discovered that his views were narrow, and now and then somewhat mean. Indeed, she had once or twice received an almost painful astonishment when he had made them plain to her. In the present case his reproaches were especially ill‐timed after what she had suffered on his behalf. Tony was in difficulties, and she had desired to free him of them; but it had been clear that he must be helped surreptitiously, lest his self‐respect should suffer, which was why she had passed on the task to a man she had confidence in, and had so feared the coroner would force a revelation from her. “You don’t wish to vex me?” she said. “No,” said the man, still with a trace of petulance. “That is the last thing I would like to do; but if you ever want ten pounds when you haven’t got them I wish you would come to me. You see, it really isn’t flattering to me that you would sooner borrow from Tom, Dick, and Harry, and it sets the confounded idiots talking.”