tion. Although her illness had been neither long nor serious, she seemed as exhausted, physically and mentally, as if she had been for months at the point of death. She took no interest in her surroundings, and was indifferent to the shady lanes through which they drove and to the gracious trees and the meadows. Her old passion for beauty was gone, and she cared neither for the flowers which filled their little garden nor for the birds that sang continually. But at last it seemed necessary to discuss the future. Margaret acquiesced in all that was suggested to her and agreed willingly that the needful steps should be taken to procure her release from Oliver Haddo. He made apparently no effort to trace her, and nothing had been heard of him. He did not know where Margaret was, but he might have guessed that Arthur was responsible for her flight, and Arthur was easily to be found. It made Susie vaguely uneasy that there was no sign of his existence. She wished that Arthur were not kept by his work in London.
At last a suit for divorce was instituted.
Two days after this, when Arthur was in his consulting room, Haddo’s card was brought to him. Arthur’s jaw set more firmly.
“Show the gentleman in,” he ordered.
When Haddo entered, Arthur, standing with his back to the fireplace, motioned him to sit down.
“What can I do for you?” he asked coldly.
“I have not come to avail myself of your surgical skill, my dear Burdon,” smiled Haddo, as he fell ponderously into an armchair.
“So I imagined.”
