hand, and intended that this second struggle should lead to better issue than the first helpless surrender of the bewildered junior.
What might have happened, it is impossible to say. This lamentable thing befell, bred directly by a statement of Mrs. Hauksbee that she would spend the next season in Darjiling.
"Are you sure of that?" said Otis Yeere.
"Quite. We're writing about a house now."
Otis Yeere "stopped dead," as Mrs. Hauksbee put it in discussing the relapse with Mrs. Mallowe.
"He has behaved," she said angrily, "just like Captain Kerrington's pony—only Otis is a donkey—at the last Gymkhana. Planted his forefeet and refused to go on another step. Polly, my man's going to disappoint me. What shall I do?"
As a rule, Mrs. Mallowe does not approve of staring, but on this occasion she opened her eyes to the utmost.
"You have managed cleverly so far," she said. "Speak to him and ask him what he means."
"I will—at to-night's dance."
"No—o, not at a dance,"said Mrs. Mallowe cautiously. "Men are never themselves quite at dances. Better wait till to-morrow morning."
"Nonsense. If he's going to revert in this insane way there isn't a day to lose. Are you going? No? Then sit up for me, there's a dear. I shan't stay longer than supper under any circumstances."
Mrs. Mallowe waited through the evening, looking long and earnestly into the fire, and sometimes smiling to herself. ••••••••••
"Oh! Oh! Oh! The man's an idiot! A raving, positive idiot! I'm sorry I ever saw him!"
Mrs. Hauksbee burst into Mrs. Mallowe's house, at midnight, almost in tears.
"What in the world has happened?" said Mrs. Mallowe, but her eyes showed that she had guessed an answer.
