He could smile at others. He cannot smile to himself. The terror of the future is an abiding skeleton at the family feast. He has juggled with figures for years to hide the first fraud that he committed when things began to go wrong with him financially in the business of which he is the chief. Securities intrusted to him have been disposed of, but the payment of the interest regularly has lulled suspicion. But now the crisis is at hand. Unless to-morrow he can get a large sum of money placed to his credit he will have to throw up the sponge and acknowledge that in the fight with Fate he has been beaten at last. He has worn the mask for years in Society. It would not do for him to drop it and appear anxious and careworn. But if the worst should happen, and he finds it advisable to start hurriedly for Spain to-morrow night, you will see a very different face under the travelling-cap drawn down over the eyes of the philanthropist as he paces the deck of the Dover to Calais packet. It is her ladyship's reception, and the beautiful rooms in the family mansion are crowded with brave men and lovely women. One of the most beautiful of all the beautiful women present stands wreathed in smiles, the centre of a little group of admirers. Her husband is not at the reception. He very rarely accompanies her. He does not care for the gaieties of Society. One or two of the little group ask about him casually, and the bright, happy wife tells them smilingly, in the slang of the day, that he is "awfully fit," but absorbed in one of his agriculture schemes. To the eyes that look upon her smiling face that beautiful Society dame is one of the happiest wives in the world. As a matter of fact she has not seen her husband for six months. He went away "by agreement" to one of his seats in the country, leaving her in the town house. That afternoon she received the document which informed her that an action for divorce had been entered against her. In due course the paragraphs will appear in the newspapers, and another Society scandal will be the talk of the town. The social mask to-day is an adjunct of civilization. The mystery is as to who is wearing it and who is not. CHAPTER XX.--THE SINS OF THE FATHERS _The children never know--A reprieve at the last moment--A chapter from a life drama--When father comes home from prison--Living down a notorious name_ |IN the whirl of the world's news, the hurricane of happenings, the rush of events, the impression made upon the public mind by the dramas and tragedies of everyday life is bound to be transient. All England may be thrilled on Monday by a horror that causes the Press to bristle with headlines, but after the Sunday papers have reproduced the details--perhaps with portraits by way of illustration--the horror loses its grip on the public imagination. A dozen new sensations have come to the front and forced the old one into the background.