"No; she fainted, and I dragged my friend away. At the time I did not know he had married her. When I got him back to the barracks, he told me his miserable story. That same night, or some time in the next morning, he shot himself. It was perhaps a cowardly way in which to avoid the consequences of his folly, but then he was always rash and impulsive."

Mrs. Spencer spoke, and there was a far-away look in her eyes. "Your poor friend! No wonder that memory haunts you. And yet, he was not very wise. This poor adventuress might have been easy to deal with; she might not have troubled him any further if he had made her some small allowance; would, so to speak, have slunk out of his life. And she might have been innocent herself, unable to break away from this wretched criminal of a brother."

"You are very charitable, Mrs. Spencer," said Hugh coldly. "But I fear I cannot agree with you. If the girl had been naturally and innately honest, she would rather have swept a crossing than have lived upon the gains of that creature—brother, or lover, or whatever he was."

Stella spoke with dignity. "You are, I see, very much moved, Major Murchison, and you can judge better than I. I cannot pretend to understand the mentality of adventuresses and their criminal associates," she added with a light laugh, "but I should say that sweeping a crossing is a most uncongenial occupation, especially in the cold weather."

"In other words, if you had been in her place, you would have preferred to live on the earnings of a rogue?" queried Hugh, perhaps a little too warmly. As soon as he spoke, he regretted his words. He had given her an advantage, of which she was not slow to avail herself.

She drew herself up proudly. "Major Murchison, are you not saying a little too much in presuming to place me on the level of the adventuress you have spoken of? I think it will be more consistent with my self-respect to leave your question unanswered."

And then suddenly her proud mood vanished, and a softer one took its place. Her voice trembled as she spoke; there was a suspicious moisture in her eyes.

"I see that I was very wrong when I suffered Guy to persuade me to marry him. I have alienated him from his friends and family, and, alas! I have none of my own to bring him in exchange. His uncle loathes me; Lady Nina is polite and tolerates me. And you—you, his old friend, who have known him from boyhood—you dislike me also. But—" and here her voice swelled into a proud note—"my husband loves and trusts me. While he does that, Major Murchison, I can snap my fingers at the rest of the world."

Murchison bowed respectfully; he felt he had got to recover a good deal of lost ground. So far the woman had the advantage, but he did not fail to notice the vulgarity of the last phrase, "snap my fingers."

"I am very sorry if I have offended you, Mrs. Spencer, by my indiscreet remarks. If you are secure in Guy's love, as I am sure you are, you have a very happy possession."