"I'd like to be honorable," Herman continued, "but how can I? It is impossible to be honest to both her and myself. If I hadn't had any scruples, then---Bah! What a beast I am! Poor Ninitta." Still Rangely smoked in silence, and the sculptor went on again. "It has always been my creed that when a man has allowed a woman to love him--much more, made her love him, as I did--he is a black-hearted knave to let a change in himself wreck her happiness. Now I am put to the test." "And the other one?" asked Rangely. "Does she know that you care for her?" "I have never said so to her. Heaven only knows how much she feels by intuition. A man always fancies that the woman he loves can tell." "That may depend something on how often you see her." "I see her nearly every day. She is my pupil." "Mrs. Greyson?" "Yes," Herman said, a little defiantly, as if now the secret was told he challenged the right of another man to share it. "Is she a widow?" "Yes," the other answered, with no perceptible pause, and yet between the question and his reply had come to him the swift remembrance that he really knew nothing of his pupil's life or history, and had simply taken it for granted that her husband was not living. "Arthur Fenton brought her here," he added, rather thinking aloud than answering any point of Rangely's query. "He was an old friend of her husband." "But what will you do with the other?" Instead of replying Herman got up from the seat into which he had flung himself, and went about the studio putting out the lights. "Go home," he said with a whimsical smile. "I'm sure I don't know what we are talking about at this time of the morning. As for what I shall do--Well, time will show; I am as ignorant as yourself on the subject." IX. VOLUBLE AND SHARP DISCOURSE. Comedy of Errors; ii.--i. It suited Fenton's whim next morning to dine with Mrs. Greyson. He had established the habit of dropping in when he chose, always sure of a welcome, and always sure, too, of a listener to the tirades in which he was fond of indulging. If Helen did not always accord him agreement, she at least gave attention, and he cared rather to talk than to convince. His aesthetic taste, moreover, was gratified by the pretty breakfast table; and he was not without a subtle sense of pleasure in the beauty and harmonious dress of his hostess, who possessed the rare charm of contriving to be always well attired. This morning she wore a gown of russet cashmere with here and there knots of dull gold ribbon, which tint formed a pleasing link between the stuff and the color of her clear skin. "It is good of you to come," she said, as she poured his coffee. "There are so few days left before you will have married a wife and cannot come. I shall miss you very much." "Why do you persist in talking in that way?" Fenton returned. "I'm not going out of the country or out of the world. You could not take a more absolute farewell if I were about to be cremated."