He had not expected it to come so soon, this change--this appeal, this cry, faint though it was, of distress. His eyes brightened as he watched her. A black velvet band clasped her throat and a diamond twinkled in a pendant that swung from it by a tiny chain. The line from her brow, with the brown hair rising abruptly above it, to her fair throat, could not have been improved upon. Though he had never thought of her as common or vulgar, in his assay she had never been of standard weight and fineness; she had been offered at too many prices in too many markets, and he was not sure yet how much alloy lay under the bright surface. On the day of her home-coming he had mistakenly expected to find her ready to meet him on his own terms, but she had rebuffed him. He had felt that she must share in time his own contempt for his father; he had been content to wait for that, and he felt that he had not waited in vain. To-night, with only a month of married life behind her, she had a grievance; she was bored, and eager for sympathy. Her youth and prettiness, her charm, of which she was not ignorant, meant as little to her elderly husband as moonlight to strong, deep-flowing waters. Like a troublesome child she had, in effect, been told to sit in a corner outside the door while her husband gave heed to important matters within. It was inevitable that Wayne, by reason of their old acquaintance, and with the same roof sheltering them, should be her chief dependence in unhappy hours. She had gathered herself with an effort and frowned; but a smile played about her lips, and she bent her head with a becoming grace. “I thought I asked you not to think of that. We buried all that that first afternoon.” “I’m not so sure we buried it. The ghost of it still walks!” “It had no ghost; it was too dead for that.” “If it had been dead----” “Well, what would have happened?” she asked, bending toward him, her elbow on her knee, her chin in her palm, as was her way. “For one thing, you wouldn’t have sat here all evening in this hideous, stiff room. You have a comfortable sitting room upstairs where you could have taken your ease while the Colonel prepared his oration.” “I don’t believe I understand,” she said. “You know I am a very dull person, Wayne; I am not a bit--what do you call it?--subtle?” “You’re a mighty pretty woman; there’s no doubt of that. And knowing I think so and would be likely to mention it, you stayed down here to be sure not to miss me when I came home.” “Please don’t speak to me like that; it is not what I expected of you. I told you when I came here that I meant to be very, very good. More than that, I asked you to help me. I threw myself on your mercy!” The tears were bright in her eyes and she leaned back and turned her face away from him. He rose with a laugh. “For heaven’s sake, don’t cry! It’s bad for the complexion. Let’s dig in the pantry for something to eat.” “Splendid!” she cried, jumping up.