"That is right--preach, preach, preach. So like a man," she mocked. "I have kept my self-respect as you term it. I am a good wife to Dolly, although I detest him. I have never said a word against him to anyone, and I wouldn't to you, but that I must speak or suffocate. I can trust you, Dorry, and you understand how I feel, and what I feel. I love Ned. I want to marry Ned, and here I'm tied to--to----" Prelice interrupted. "It is hard on you, Constance, I admit," he said, "but you must make the best of it. You say that you lead your husband the life of a dog." "Of a pet dog, of a poodle. He's so meek and mild and sneaky that I can't respect him. He merely sniggers when I grow angry, and chuckles how he got the best of me over the marriage by not paying all father's debts. Oh, what is the use of talking! I love Ned, and Ned loves me." Prelice jumped up. "I can't believe that," he declared, growing angry, "for Ned is engaged to Miss Chent. If he loves you, why is he----" "Don't ask questions," interrupted Mrs. Rover angrily; "or if you must ask them, go to Ned; or better still, to Mona Chent herself." "What can I ask Miss Chent?" demanded Prelice sharply. "It's very warm weather," mocked Mrs. Rover, "and I think there will be a thunder-storm." The young man looked at her, and saw her mouth set obstinately. He knew as well as if she had spoken that there was nothing more to be got out of her for the time being. But what she had said made him all the more determined to see Miss Chent, and learn the truth about the engagement to Shepworth. Meanwhile he took the wind out of Mrs. Rover's sails by falling in with her humour. "It will be a good thing if it does thunder and rain," he remarked, glancing out of the window; "it will clear the air." Mrs. Rover looked as though she would have struck him, but being unable to parry his thrust, threw herself sulkily on the sofa. Prelice took up hat and gloves to depart, but halted at the door with premeditated craft. A sudden thought had struck him. "Constance," he said in a natural tone, "I am in love." "Indeed," she said indifferently. "Yes; with a lady who was at your ball." The remark made her rouse herself, and she sat up with a look of curiosity. "Who is she?" "I want you to tell me that. I could not see her face, and very little of her figure, owing to the domino, but she seemed to be so charming when we talked together"--this was a lie to gain information--"that I quite lost my heart." "It's easy lost," said Mrs. Rover, curling her lip. "The woman may be as ugly as sin under her mask. How was she dressed?" "In a green mask and domino," Mrs. Rover stiffened, "and with a white dress streaked with lines of red velvet. Why do you laugh?" he asked, for Mrs. Rover was trying to suppress her mirth. "Why?" she cried, shaking with merriment, "because _I_ wore that dress and mask and domino." "You?" Prelice looked horrified. "Yes. Why do you look at me like that?"