"You have such ignoble ideas, Meg," she said reprovingly. "Now I know I shall have to make myself agreeable to Mr. Thain, and I either like him or dislike him immensely. I haven't the least idea which."

"I shouldn't be surprised," her sister whispered, as Thain approached, "if he didn't help you presently to make up your mind."

CHAPTER VII

Marcia Hannaway called upon her publisher during the course of the following day. She found the ready entrée of a privileged client--with scarcely a moment's delay she was ushered into the presence of James Borden, the person who for some years now had occupied the second place in her thoughts and life.

"Anything happened, Marcia?" he enquired, after their quiet but familiar greeting. "You look as though you were bringing Fate with you."

She made herself comfortable in the easy-chair which he had drawn up to the fire. Outside, an unexpectedly cold wind made the sense of warmth doubly pleasant. She unfastened her simple furs and smiled at him a little dolefully.

"Just this," she replied, handing him a letter.

He spread it out, adjusted his eyeglasses and read it deliberately:

94, GROSVENOR SQUARE, Thursday.
My dear Marcia:

I have made enquiries with reference to the non-payment of your allowance for the last two quarters, and now enclose cheque for the amount, drawn by my agent in Norfolk and payable to yourself. I think I can promise you that no further irregularities shall occur.

I look forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon, and I must tell you of a financial operation I am now conducting, which, if successful, may enable me to pay off the mortgages which render the Norfolk estates so unremunerative.

I trust that you are well, dear. I have ordered Carlton White's to send in a few flowers, which I hope will arrive safely.

Yours, REGINALD.

James Borden read the letter carefully, glanced at the small coronet at the top of the paper, and folded it up.

"I'm sorry, Marcia," he said simply.

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