"And that is why I come every day. I knew you would want some support, and as I am a married woman, I knew I should be more support than Julia, although she _is_ so farseeing. It's a bitter blow, darling, but bear it like the martyr you are. Of course, Harry will be awfully angry with me; he says you never ought to interfere between husband and wife, even when they are your own father and mother." "I would rather know the worst," said Regina; "it is no kindness to keep a woman of my calibre in the dark. I can't discuss it, Maudie darling, even with you. If your father has really left me for that other person I will bear the blow and face the world with what dignity I can. You--you had better not tell Harry that you have told me the truth, we will keep it a little secret between ourselves. I shouldn't like to feel that because of your sense of justice to me the first little rift had come between yourself and your husband. You are lunching with me to-day, dear?" She turned the conversation into a conventional channel with a skill which was truly admirable, and Maudie, who was inclined to take her color from another, took her cue on that occasion from her mother and answered in the same strain. "No, I'm lunching with Harry's mother. I'd rather stay here with you, darling, but if I don't go now and again without Harry the old lady is inclined to be a bit cranky, and I want to keep in with her, you know." "Certainly! Most wise of you! By all means keep in with your husband's people; there is nothing to be gained by not doing so," said Regina. "Then you and I will say no more just now, darling. You will come across before you go back?" "Yes, mother dear, I will. I have ordered the brougham for four o'clock." "Engagements in town?" said Regina. "Yes, one or two things on," Maudie answered. She talked as if their conversation had been all along of a most unimportant and trivial character. "Then I shall see you again," said Regina. "Good-by, dearest." She sat just where Maudie had left her for some little time after young Mrs. Marksby had disappeared into the ancestral mansion across the road, a dozen schemes revolving in her active brain. What should she do? Should she sit down meekly and tamely under this new revelation, and let Alfred deal with their lives as he would, or should she make a determined step and meet disaster face to face? "Grasp your nettle" had ever been a favorite saying with Regina, and she felt very much like grasping her nettle now. Then Margaret came in and told her that luncheon was served, and Regina went into the dining-room and thoughtfully helped herself. Appetite she had none. Now, let me tell you, when Regina's appetite failed her, then indeed she was in a distinctly bad way.