"That is only to be expected from one suffering from such a disease. Yet it can serve no excuse for his wife taking up with that gay set, the Penn-Pagets and the Hennikers. I must say I'm very surprised." 

"And so am I, Ralph. But what can I do? I'm utterly powerless. She is mistress here, and does exactly as she likes. The old gentleman dotes on her and allows her to have her way in everything. She has ever been wilful, even from a child." 

She did not attempt to shield her sister, and yet she uttered no condemnation of her conduct. I could not, even then, understand the situation. To me one of two things was apparent. Either she feared to displease her sister because of some power the latter held over her, or this neglect of old Mr. Courtenay was pleasing to her. 

"I wonder you don't give Mary a hint that her conduct is being noticed and remarked upon. Of course, don't say that I've spoken of it. Merely put it to her in the manner of a vague suggestion." 

"Very well, if you wish it," she responded promptly, for she was ever ready to execute my smallest desire."And you love me quite as truly and as well as you did a year ago?" I asked, eagerly, stroking the dark tendrils from her white brow.

"Love you?" she echoed. "Yes, Ralph," she went on, looking up into my face with unwavering gaze. "I may be distrait and pre-occupied sometimes, but, nevertheless, I swear to you, as I did on that summer's evening long ago when we were boating together at Shepperton, that you are the only man I have ever loved--or shall ever love."

I returned her caress with a passion that was heartfelt. I was devoted to her, and these tender words of hers confirmed my belief in her truth and purity.

"Need I repeat what I have told you so many times, dearest?" I asked, in a low voice, as her head rested upon my shoulder and she stood in my embrace. "Need I tell you how fondly I love you--how that I am entirely yours? No. You are mine, Ethelwynn--mine."

"And you will never think ill of me?" she asked, in a faltering tone. "You will never be suspicious of me as you have been tonight? You cannot tell how all this upsets me. Perfect love surely demands perfect confidence. And our love is perfect--is it not?"

"It is," I cried. "It is. Forgive me, dearest. Forgive me for my churlish conduct tonight. It is my fault--all my fault. I love you, and have every 

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