Geraldine flared angrily. “Well, I will explain it to him now,” she cried. “Your wife sent for me, Mr. Benton, to accuse me of luring you away from her. She happened to see us driving together yesterday, and immediately reached her own conclusion. I have never been so grossly insulted in my life.” More confused than ever, Hugh searched for words. “I can’t believe it,” was his inconsequential reply. “Marjorie, you must be insane to do a thing like this. I demand that you apologize to Mrs. DeLacy at once.” Trembling from head to foot, white as death, Marjorie Benton drew herself up to her fullest height. One long, searching look she turned on each and it was still with the dignity of the avenger that she turned and swept from the room. Hugh stared after her in utter astonishment. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. DeLacy, I’m sure you know that,” he said, in pained confusion. “I can’t understand it. The only thing I can do is to apologize to you for Mrs. Benton.” “Please don’t say a word, Mr. Benton.” The change in Geraldine DeLacy was an instantaneous one. A light of mirth danced in the eyes that had been so wrathful, the hard voice purred. “It is you of whom I am thinking. You don’t know how I feel for you. I don’t believe Mrs. Benton realized what she was doing. She was just beside herself—I can only pity her.” “You are indeed generous,” he murmured. “It must be a dreadful thing,” she said so softly that she might have been thinking aloud, “for a woman to feel that the man she cares for, is slipping away from her, even though she is to blame.” “Understanding as usual,” was Hugh’s admiring comment, “but,” and the words tumbled over themselves in their eagerness to be voiced, “why is it, I wonder, that life always holds just one thing from us to make our happiness complete? I’ve had more than my share of good fortune in all things except the love and companionship—and——” “You’re just in the prime of life,” answered the woman dreamily. “Who knows what may be waiting for you—just around the corner?” She turned toward the door, but stopped to smile, as she observed: “I’m staying at home to-morrow evening—alone. The family are going to a concert which would bore me to death.” “You may look for me about eight-thirty,” was the man’s quick answer. “I am anxious to have you expound more of your marvelous philosophy.” She held out her hand. “I think you will find that we have many thoughts in common. Good-by.”