One bright December afternoon I returned at three o'clock, and found she had been absent since eleven that morning. I took a cab to Pont Street, but ascertaining she had not been there, returned home, and impatiently awaited her until nearly six. As soon as I heard her light footstep I seized a book that lay nearest and pretended to read. She burst in like a ray of sunshine, her face aglow with laughter, and in her hand an immense bunch of sweet-smelling violets. The book chanced to be a Koran in Arabic. She came across to kiss me, but I waved her off with dignity, and went on translating the Word of the Prophet. Ella stood back indignant, and with her flowers in front of her waited at the other side of the table. After a pause I commenced, "You went out this morning ten minutes after I had gone; it is now six o'clock. You have been absent seven hours." Ella nodded. "And how have you employed your time?" I asked. "Have you been shopping, as usual?" Ella again nodded. "Seven hours is a long time. Where did you get those flowers?" I asked, sniffing contemptuously at the huge bunch of sweet-smelling blossoms she had let fall before me. "I bought them at Scott's." "That is a bunch specially made up for presentation," I said. "Someone gave them to you." "Yes, the shopman," she laughed. "I gave him two shillings for them." Then she took off her hat and, impaling it with a long pin, cast it heedlessly upon the table. "It has not occupied seven hours to buy a bunch of violets," I said ruthlessly. "Where have you been?" Ella looked round laughing, and said in a quiet voice, "I have been to see a friend." "Another aunt--eh?" I asked, suspiciously. She took a chair and sat down opposite; then, with her head leaning upon her hands, she said demurely, "Yes, it was an aunt." There was silence. Ella had picked up her bunch of violets, and every time I looked up she was watching me over them. "Well," I exclaimed at last, "where does this aunt live--at Highgate?" "No, not that one. She is poor. She lives in Camberwell." "I don't believe it," I said, standing up suddenly. Ella raised her eyebrows in interrogation. There was an ominous look in her blue eyes, and I put forth my hand to snatch the flowers and cast them into the fire. Instead, I sat down again and turned over another hundred pages of my Koran. "Geoffrey," she said at length in a low, timid voice I perused my book with stolid indifference. "Geoffrey," she repeated, "why are you angry with me without cause?" Raising my head, I saw that her fine eyes were dimmed by tears, and almost unconsciously I reached, took her hand, and pressed it. Then Ella, rising slowly, came round and sat upon my knee. "You see," she whispered, with her arms around my neck, "this is how it was. Last night I said to myself,--