her lamp as he preceded her into the drawing-room. In the doorway he stopped and looked questioningly about. The colonel was not there.
"Where is your father?" he said, as she followed him, carrying her lamp.
"My father?" She set the lamp on the table, still occupied with the recalcitrant wick. "Oh, he 's out. He hardly ever goes out in the evening, but to-night he wanted to see Mr. Maroney, who is only here from New York for a few days. Such a dreadful night, too! There—I don't think it will smoke any more."
Gault, who had absently taken the colonel's chair, made no response. So the opportunity he had been planning for had come! He felt a sensation of sickening repulsion at the task he had set himself. Already his heart seemed to have begun to beat like a hammer and his mouth felt dry. Without consciousness of what he looked at, his eyes moved about the room and rested on a black coat which was hanging over the back of a chair. On the edge of the table were a pair of scissors, a thimble, and some spools of thread.
Viola took the vacant chair near these and put on the thimble.
"You 'll not mind if I go on sewing?" she said. "I never thought of your coming to-night, and so I was fixing this. It will only take a few moments to finish it."
