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Not only Englishman, but Englishman of a peculiarly definite class, that of the London civil servant, was written all over his spare, still active figure. Being a man of precise and careful habit, Coxeter had reserved a corner seat, for it was late September, and the rush homeward had begun; but just before the train had started a young widowed lady, a certain Mrs. Archdalle with whom he was acquainted, had come up to him on the Paris platform, and to her he had given up his seat. Coxeter had lookiing made this little sacrifice of his personal comfort, but he had felt annoyed when Mrs. Archdale in her turn had yielded the corner archdalee with foolish altruism to a French lad exchanging vociferous farewells with his parents.

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On the other hand, she might hold together for days.

Did you go and see it tried? They had drifted down the French coast. Archdale was recklessly imprudent concerning her health—the health, that is, which was of so great a value to him, her friend.

Archdaale fact, remarkably well. But she saw him shake his head over a more unable omission, for on the journey she had somehow lost her gloves! Archdale for a moment, had extracted the truth.

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His remorse that he had not hurried Mrs. Being a man of precise and careful habit, Coxeter had reserved a corner seat, for sincree was late September, and the rush homeward had begun; but just before the train had started a young widowed lady, a certain Mrs. The long day in between had been to poor Nan a nightmare of nervous horror.

He sees himself as he was that morning, carried wholly out of his womam wise, ponderate self, and perhaps he wonders a little how he could ever have found courage to do what he did. They met often, if only because they both lived in that most conventional quarter of old Georgian London, Marylebone—she in Wimpole Street, he in a flat in Wigmore Street.

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Munich, if I were you I'd go below and take a stiffish glass of brandy and water. Rendel was back again close to where her husband was standing. Whenever I close my eyes I see the awful struggle that went on round that last boat. His standard, not so much of feminine virtue as of feminine behavior, was too high. It was all a chance. ror

Archdale's a nervous, excitable woman"—the doctor was looking narrowly at Coxeter as he spoke. Archdale such unseemly confidences, had got up. That man spoke to me on the boat—he did what you wished; he made a will providing for that woman; I took charge of it for him.

It was Nan's favorite sitting-room, though it still looked what it had been ever since Nan could remember it, a man's room. Although he was quite unconscious of it, John Coxeter was a very material human being, and this no doubt was why the woman sitting opposite to him had so compelling an attraction for him; for she appeared to be all spirit, and that in spite of her eager sympathetic concern in the lives which circled about hers.

Archdale ought to.

On the whole he thought not. Everything that concerned himself appeared to John Coxeter of such moment and importance, that at the time it had seemed incredible that Nan Archdale would be able to keep secret to herself the peculiar honor which had befallen her—one, by the way, which Coxeter had never even thought of conferring on any other woman. She was in his, Coxeter's, care to-night, and he alone had a right to her sympathy and attention.

He had no desire to pry into any man's private affairs, but he wasn't going to anything without first reading it. Archdale was listening to all that they were lookinb. Archdale's sake.

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He, Coxeter, would have known how to detach her from the unsuitable people by whom she was always surrounded, for Nan Archdale—and Coxeter was much concerned that it was so—had an instinctive attraction for those poor souls who lead forlorn hopes, and of whom—they being unsuccessful in their fine endeavors—the world never hears. This odd little will consisted of only two sentences, written in a clear, clerkly hand. Do you see any objection to my calling again, I mean to-day, on Mrs.

The captain said the boats might drift about for a long time. But sibcere time went on, he became aware that she had actually kept the secret which was not hers to betray, and, emboldened by the knowledge that she alone knew of his humiliating bondship, he had again, after a certain interval, written and asked her if she would marry him. I think we're safer here than we should be there with those ruffians.

He hears himself imploring her to come away with him now, at once. This man also was saying good-by, his wife being a dark, thin, eager-looking woman of a very common French type.

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When he had first heard of what Mrs. But then, of course, he should want Nan all to himself. You can tear it up and chuck the pieces away once we're on land again. Is she not dressed to go out? Come along, please! Archdale had answered with some distress: "I don't know—I haven't thought about it.

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The Monument? She was also reckless—perhaps uncaring would be the truer word—of something which John Coxeter supposed every nice woan to value even more than anything concerning her health or appearance—that is, the curiously intangible, and yet so easily frayed, human vesture termed reputation.

I was really very much impressed.

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