The Man and the Moment

o be assembled in the big salon. She was coming from the communicating passage to her part of the house

o her, she with difficulty kept a gasp from her breath. He was certainly the most splendid

k a word. "Père Anselme will scold me! Come along!" a

ing morsel in her fresh white frock with its

is," he said, and that was all, a

huddered a little. "I only care for out-

him, and keep him in his place, she was ready to defend herself on all sides-and no defence seemed necessary! A sudden col

showed plainly his joy and satisfaction. She-his worshiped lady-had never before been so tender and gracious, and he was awfully ha

ht to do-tell Henry straight out that Sabine was his wife or what? If he did that he might be going contrary to some plan of hers-for she evidently had no intention yet of inform

ould be guided by what Sabine's attitude should be herself. He would certainly see her alone on the following day and then she would most likely broach the subject and they could agree what to do-for that Henry must

as his valet, no longer the dignified Johnson, handed him hi

r figure tripping forward from the dark passage, a fierc

it had not b

-and her cheeks burned like glowing roses. Monsi

e type, not of the sort one would believe to make strong passions-no-now if it had been the other one-the friend-that one could

o delighted with their gay repast, and helped

piness-while in Michael, passions of var

o alluring, so feminine, so completely rem

to Père Anselme that she almost made love, with shy sallies at Henry, and merry replies to Madame Imogen. But her wh

all sorts of ports-but here in my France we expect you to be so

hand the little cold one lying on his arm as they wa

ng, darli

ed nervously. "You

nows that I love you, and that as soon as

rpet which slid upon the slippery floor, for the

ows th

eeks were pale, while the pupils of her violet eyes wer

and such subjects-and at ten o'clock when the Père Anselme gave his blessing and wished the company good-night, also gave a white hand to her guests, saying that Madame Imogen w

Michael said a litt

dache, old man. I think I won'

great sitting-room, and turning on the light, she unlocked a blue despatch-box which stood beside her writing-table.

h

toun C

tla

ore a date in June, 1907. It ha

low you or ever seek to bring you back. It is useless to ask you if you meant that you forgave me-because your g

l Arra

glittering tears gathered and rolle

yet he said never a word. What could it mean? What could be best to do? Perhaps to see him alone in the morning and ask him to grant her freedom and get the divorce as quickly as possible. She could count upon herself not to betray the slightest feeling in the interview. If only that strange turn of fate had not brought Lord Fordyce into her life, what glorious pleasure she would now take in trying her uttermost to fascinate and attract Michael-not that she desired him for herself!-only to punish him for all the past! But she was not free. She had given her word to Henry. The humiliation of feeling that Michael was

pacing his room in dee

o. What a blind fool he had been all those years ago to let passionate rage at Sabine's daring to leave him make him write her that letter. He would not have done it if he had not felt such an intolerable brute-and glad to cut the whole thing by accepting Latimer Berkeley's suggestion to join him for the Chin

sport and had interested him deeply, that journey to Tibet. And however strong feelings may be at moments-absence and fresh interests dull

he eyes of such a man as he. This he did not reason out-thinking himself a very ordinary person-in fact, never thinking of himself at all or what his temperament was affected by. He did not realize either that the very fact of Sabine's being now out of his reach made her

nd the only thing for a gentleman to do under the complicated circumstances was to speedily divorce her according to the S

ations, he simply stood in the mi

s or bars or circumstances been

that these things were not circumstanc

ally made her love me and kept her always for my own!" his thoughts ran. "Well-we were both too

ived a guarded communication from his wife's representative, Mr. Parsons-with what practically amounted to a request that he, Mr. Arranstoun, should begin to s

ine's house! He shook with

d not leave that day after all! He would stay and play the comedy to its end. While she would not recognize him, he would not recognize her. It was she who had set the pace and the responsibility

see, but just a strong and pa

years old and supremely healthy; and however complicated fate seemed to be, when nerves an

rays of gold as she stepped across the courtyard at about ten o'clock on her way to the gar

ish gown from his window, and did not hesitate for a second. Henry, he knew, was

mong his post. He would pretend he had sought solitude and would be duly surprised and pleased to encounter his hostess. That he had no business in her private garden at all wi

e apparently being his only care! Here he paced the walk which cut off her retreat from the gate, never glancing up. Sabine saw him of course, and her heart began to beat-was it possible for a man to be so good-looking or so utterly casual and devil-may-care! If she walked toward the

roper amount of haste and raised h

read the papers-and the courtyard looked so dull and I di

very plant and they are all my friends." Then to hide the pleasurable

ou have made the most enchanting place of this," he next told her. "Can't we go up and sit in that summer-house while you t

nse of unreality stole over Sabine. It could not be all true-it was just some dream-a little more vivid, that was all, than those which used to come to her of him sometimes durin

cleverly adapted to its present use. It was open, with glass which slid back on the southern side, and its great windows looked out over t

pon the high window-seat, her feet dangling while she opened the casement wide.

, it has everything! The sea and its waves to dash up at it-and then this

am I

laughed. "The grim part of this is rather like it in a way; I mean the stone passages and huge rooms-but of course th

g and that she was really not his wife! Excitement thrilled her. But if he was playing a part, she then must certainly play, too, and not speak to him about the divorce until he spoke to her. T

n to affect him so profoundly that unconsciously something of eagerness and emotion crept into his voice. It was one of those voices full of extraordinarily attractive cadences at any time, and made for the seducing of a woman's ear. Sabine knew that she was enj

I have a big, old sitting-room, too, that was once part of a great hall, and my bedroom is the ot

home for so long," Sabine remarked

er all about C

-I shall have to face it now, I suppose, because it is such hard luck on

ed, "one must a

as in the wilds-and I grew to know that one i

his conversation was growing too dangerous

I just want to pick a big bunch of sweet peas before the s

t her, and with her swift, graceful movements led the way to

chattered of the ways of these flowers, and the trouble she had had to make t

a lovely garden there-it is famous for gardens, isn't

sudden picture of her living in England-

to come and stay there before you do? I will have a party whenever you like. I would lov

eminders of aspects which

but had not the courage to make any remark

twelve-and she laughingly started

ce will be ravenous-come, let

ant faces of those exalted by an excitin

er, they found Henry looking from the window a little wist