When he alighted from the dog-cart he knew it was useless to try and sleep; so he lit a cigar, and sat in a remote corner of the veranda. Then he began seriously to analyze her words. They were to meet in clandestine fashion; not actually in the garments of disguise, but at a rendezvous so remote from the frequenters of the Casino as to run small risk of being identified. She would drive thither in a "hired carriage," and he was to leave his dog-cart and groom at home. Moreover, she inferred that he would not see her until the evening, since the locality of this _diner à deux_ was to be written; though they had hardly been separated by longer intervals than a couple of hours between seven o'clock in the morning and nearly midnight during each day of a fortnight. What did it all portend? Was this to be their last meeting? At that thought a fierce pain gripped him, and he was sorely tempted to call the gods to witness that he would not return to a lifetime of wandering in the wilderness. Yet, said a still, small voice within, was it not better so? She was another man's wife. He must remember that, remember it even when his pent-up passions stormed the citadel of his conscience, remember it when the sheer fragrance of her maddened his senses, remember it when the taste of Dead Sea fruit was bitterest in his mouth. Of what worth was he if, for her dear sake, he was not strong in knightly resolve? And how could he ever again dare to receive his mother's kiss if he betrayed the trust which she, at least, reposed in him? A mournful and depressing reverie was disturbed by the arrival of a carriage at the porch. Four young people alighted--two honeymoon couples they were supposed to be--and their lively voices seemed to ring the knell of his wrecked existence. He listened, only half hearing, while they chattered like magpies. They had been to a dance at the Casino, and their broken comments told of a jolly evening, a capital band, the best floor that ever was laid, some wonderful dresses, and an unexcelled supper. Similar young people were telling each other exactly the same inane commonplaces all over the eastern part of America at that hour, and similar cackle would girdle the earth till the crack of doom. Probably the men were wise as he, and the women might be deemed by their swains pretty as Nancy; yet some malign despot among the powers which control poor humanity had decreed that he alone should never know these frivolous moments, never be granted these breathing-spaces of mild abandonment. And so, wroth with himself, and vexed with the sorry scheme of things, he went to his rooms. Next morning, to make sure, he rode to Nancy's house. No; Mrs. Marten had not ordered her horse; in fact, she had not appeared as yet, and the pleasant-spoken butler, showing the requisite confidence in the discretion of a recognized friend, added that his mistress would not be "at home" to anyone before luncheon.