on the drive back from her dinner at the nouveau luxe, eventshad followed the course foreseen by susy.

she had promised strefford to seek legal advice about herdivorce, and he had kissed her; and the promise had been easierto make than she had expected, the kiss less difficult toreceive.

she had gone to the dinner a-quiver with the mortification oflearning that her husband was still with the hickses. morallysure of it though she had been, the discovery was a shock, andshe measured for the first time the abyss between fearing andknowing. no wonder he had not written--the modern husband didnot have to: he had only to leave it to time and the newspapersto make known his intentions. susy could imagine nick's sayingto himself, as he sometimes used to say when she reminded him ofan unanswered letter: "but there are lots of ways of answeringa letter--and writing doesn't happen to be mine."well--he had done it in his way, and she was answered. for aminute, as she laid aside the paper, darkness submerged her, andshe felt herself dropping down into the bottomless anguish ofher dreadful vigil in the palazzo vanderlyn. but she was wearyof anguish: her healthy body and nerves instinctively rejectedit. the wave was spent, and she felt herself irresistiblystruggling back to light and life and youth. he didn't wanther! well, she would try not to want him! there lay all theold expedients at her hand--the rouge for her white lips, theatropine for her blurred eyes, the new dress on her bed, thethought of strefford and his guests awaiting her, and of theconclusions that the diners of the nouveau luxe would draw fromseeing them together. thank heaven no one would say: "poor oldsusy--did you know nick had chucked her?" they would all say:

"poor old nick! yes, i daresay she was sorry to chuck him; butaltringham's mad to marry her, and what could she do? "and once again events had followed the course she had foreseen.

seeing her at lord altringham's table, with the ascots and theold duchess of dunes, the interested spectators could not butregard the dinner as confirming the rumour of her marriage. asellie said, people didn't wait nowadays to announce their"engagements" till the tiresome divorce proceedings were over.

ellie herself, prodigally pearled and ermined, had floated inlate with algie bockheimer in her wake, and sat, in conspicuoustete-a-tete, nodding and signalling her sympathy to susy.

approval beamed from every eye: it was awfully exciting, theyall seemed to say, seeing susy lansing pull it off! as theparty, after dinner, drifted from the restaurant back into thehall, she caught, in the smiles and hand-pressures crowdingabout her, the scarcely-repressed hint of officialcongratulations; and violet melrose, seated in a corner withfulmer, drew her down with a wan jade-circled arm, to whispertenderly: "it's most awfully clever of you, darling, not to bewearing any jewels."in all the women's eyes she read the reflected lustre of thejewels she could wear when she chose: it was as though theirglitter reached her from the far-off bank where they lay sealedup in the altringham strong-box. what a fool she had been tothink that strefford would ever believe she didn't care forthem!

the ambassadress, a blank perpendicular person, had been a shadeless affable than susy could have wished; but then there waslady joan--and the girl was handsome, alarmingly handsome toaccount for that: probably every one in the room had guessedit. and the old duchess of dunes was delightful. she lookedrather like strefford in a wig and false pearls (susy was surethey were as false as her teeth); and her cordiality was sodemonstrative that the future bride found it more difficult toaccount for than lady ascot's coldness, till she heard the oldlady, as they passed into the hall, breathe in a hissing whisperto her nephew: "streff, dearest, when you have a minute's time,and can drop in at my wretched little pension, i know you canexplain in two words what i ought to do to pacify those awfulmoney-lenders .... and you'll bring your exquisite american tosee me, won't you! ... no, joan senechal's too fair for mytaste .... insipid...""yes: the taste of it all was again sweet on her lips. a fewdays later she began to wonder how the thought of strefford'sendearments could have been so alarming. to be sure he was notlavish of them; but when he did touch her, even when he kissedher, it no longer seemed to matter. an almost complete absenceof sensation had mercifully succeeded to the first wild flurryof her nerves.

and so it would be, no doubt, with everything else in her newlife. if it failed to provoke any acute reactions, whether ofpain or pleasure, the very absence of sensation would make forpeace. and in the meanwhile she was tasting what, she had begunto suspect, was the maximum of bliss to most of the women sheknew: days packed with engagements, the exhilaration offashionable crowds, the thrill of snapping up a jewel or abibelot or a new "model" that one's best friend wanted, or ofbeing invited to some private show, or some exclusiveentertainment, that one's best friend couldn't get to. therewas nothing, now, that she couldn't buy, nowhere that shecouldn't go: she had only to choose and to triumph. and for awhile the surface-excitement of her life gave her the illusionof enjoyment.

strefford, as she had expected, had postponed his return toengland, and they had now been for nearly three weeks togetherin their new, and virtually avowed, relation. she had fanciedthat, after all, the easiest part of it would be just the beingwith strefford--the falling back on their old tried friendshipto efface the sense of strangeness. but, though she had so soongrown used to his caresses, he himself remained curiouslyunfamiliar: she was hardly sure, at times, that it was the oldstrefford she was talking to. it was not that his point of viewhad changed, but that new things occupied and absorbed him. inall the small sides of his great situation he took an almostchildish satisfaction; and though he still laughed at both itsprivileges and its obligations, it was now with a jealouslaughter.

it amused him inexhaustibly, for instance, to be made up to byall the people who had always disapproved of him, and to uniteat the same table persons who had to dissemble their annoyanceat being invited together lest they should not be invited atall. equally exhilarating was the capricious favouring of thedull and dowdy on occasions when the brilliant and disreputableexpected his notice. it enchanted him, for example, to ask theold duchess of dunes and violet melrose to dine with the vicarof altringham, on his way to switzerland for a month's holiday,and to watch the face of the vicar's wife while the duchessnarrated her last difficulties with book-makers and money-lenders, and violet proclaimed the rights of love and genius toall that had once been supposed to belong exclusively torespectability and dulness.

susy had to confess that her own amusements were hardly of ahigher order; but then she put up with them for lack of better,whereas strefford, who might have had what he pleased, wascompletely satisfied with such triumphs.

somehow, in spite of his honours and his opportunities, heseemed to have shrunk. the old strefford had certainly been alarger person, and she wondered if material prosperity werealways a beginning of ossification. strefford had been muchmore fun when he lived by his wits. sometimes, now, when hetried to talk of politics, or assert himself on some question ofpublic interest, she was startled by his limitations. formerly,when he was not sure of his ground, it had been his way to turnthe difficulty by glib nonsense or easy irony; now he wasactually dull, at times almost pompous. she noticed too, forthe first time, that he did not always hear clearly when severalpeople were talking at once, or when he was at the theatre; andhe developed a habit of saying over and over again: "does so-and-so speak indistinctly? or am i getting deaf, i wonder?"which wore on her nerves by its suggestion of a correspondingmental infirmity.

these thoughts did not always trouble her. the current of idleactivity on which they were both gliding was her native elementas well as his; and never had its tide been as swift, its wavesas buoyant. in his relation to her, too, he was full of tactand consideration. she saw that he still remembered theirfrightened exchange of glances after their first kiss; and thesense of this little hidden spring of imagination in him wassometimes enough for her thirst.

she had always had a rather masculine punctuality in keeping herword, and after she had promised strefford to take steps towarda divorce she had promptly set about doing it. a suddenreluctance prevented her asking the advice of friends like ellievanderlyn, whom she knew to be in the thick of the samenegotiations, and all she could think of was to consult a youngamerican lawyer practicing in paris, with whom she felt shecould talk the more easily because he was not from new york, andprobably unacquainted with her history.

she was so ignorant of the procedure in such matters that shewas surprised and relieved at his asking few personal questions;but it was a shock to learn that a divorce could not beobtained, either in new york or paris, merely on the ground ofdesertion or incompatibility.

"i thought nowadays ... if people preferred to live apart ... itcould always be managed," she stammered, wondering at her ownignorance, after the many conjugal ruptures she had assisted at.

the young lawyer smiled, and coloured slightly. his lovelyclient evidently intimidated him by her grace, and still more byher inexperience.

"it can be--generally," he admitted; "and especially so if ...

as i gather is the case ... your husband is equallyanxious ....""oh, quite!" she exclaimed, suddenly humiliated by having toadmit it.

"well, then--may i suggest that, to bring matters to a point,the best way would be for you to write to him?"she recoiled slightly. it had never occurred to her that thelawyers would not "manage it" without her intervention.

"write to him ... but what about?""well, expressing your wish ... to recover your freedom ....

the rest, i assume," said the young lawyer, "may be left to mr.

lansing."she did not know exactly what he meant, and was too muchperturbed by the idea of having to communicate with nick tofollow any other train of thought. how could she write such aletter? and yet how could she confess to the lawyer that shehad not the courage to do so? he would, of course, tell her togo home and be reconciled. she hesitated perplexedly.

"wouldn't it be better," she suggested, "if the letter were tocome from--from your office?"he considered this politely. "on the whole: no. if, as i takeit, an amicable arrangement is necessary--to secure therequisite evidence then a line from you, suggesting aninterview, seems to me more advisable.""an interview? is an interview necessary?" she was ashamed toshow her agitation to this cautiously smiling young man, whomust wonder at her childish lack of understanding; but the breakin her voice was uncontrollable.

"oh, please write to him--i can't! and i can't see him! oh,can't you arrange it for me?" she pleaded.

she saw now that her idea of a divorce had been that it wassomething one went out--or sent out--to buy in a shop:

something concrete and portable, that strefford's money couldpay for, and that it required no personal participation toobtain. what a fool the lawyer must think her! stiffeningherself, she rose from her seat.

"my husband and i don't wish to see each other again .... i'msure it would be useless ... and very painful.""you are the best judge, of course. but in any case, a letterfrom you, a friendly letter, seems wiser ... considering theapparent lack of evidence ....""very well, then; i'll write," she agreed, and hurried away,scarcely hearing his parting injunction that she should take acopy of her letter.

that night she wrote. at the last moment it might have beenimpossible, if at the theatre little breckenridge had not bobbedinto her box. he was just back from rome, where he had dinedwith the hickses ("a bang-up show--they're really lances-youwouldn't know them!"), and had met there lansing, whom hereported as intending to marry coral "as soon as things weresettled". "you were dead right, weren't you, susy," hesnickered, "that night in venice last summer, when we allthought you were joking about their engagement? pity now youchucked our surprise visit to the hickses, and sent streff up todrag us back just as we were breaking in! you remember?"he flung off the "streff" airily, in the old way, but with atentative side-glance at his host; and lord altringham, leaningtoward susy, said coldly: "was breckenridge speaking about me?

i didn't catch what he said. does he speak indistinctly--or ami getting deaf, i wonder?"after that it seemed comparatively easy, when strefford haddropped her at her hotel, to go upstairs and write. she dashedoff the date and her address, and then stopped; but suddenly sheremembered breckenridge's snicker, and the words rushed fromher. "nick dear, it was july when you left venice, and i havehad no word from you since the note in which you said you hadgone for a few days, and that i should hear soon again.

"you haven't written yet, and it is five months since you leftme. that means, i suppose, that you want to take back yourfreedom and give me mine. wouldn't it be kinder, in that case,to tell me so? it is worse than anything to go on as we arenow. i don't know how to put these things but since you seemunwilling to write to me perhaps you would prefer to send youranswer to mr. frederic spearman, the american lawyer here. hisaddress is 100, boulevard haussmann. i hope--"she broke off on the last word. hope? what did she hope,either for him or for herself? wishes for his welfare wouldsound like a mockery--and she would rather her letter shouldseem bitter than unfeeling. above all, she wanted to get itdone. to have to re-write even those few lines would betorture. so she left "i hope," and simply added: "to hearbefore long what you have decided."she read it over, and shivered. not one word of the past-notone allusion to that mysterious interweaving of their liveswhich had enclosed them one in the other like the flower in itssheath! what place had such memories in such a letter? she hadthe feeling that she wanted to hide that other nick away in herown bosom, and with him the other susy, the susy he had onceimagined her to be .... neither of them seemed concerned withthe present business.

the letter done, she stared at the sealed envelope till itspresence in the room became intolerable, and she understood thatshe must either tear it up or post it immediately. she wentdown to the hall of the sleeping hotel, and bribed the night-porter to carry the letter to the nearest post office, though heobjected that, at that hour, no time would be gained. "i wantit out of the house," she insisted: and waited sternly by thedesk, in her dressing-gown, till he had performed the errand.

as she re-entered her room, the disordered writing-table struckher; and she remembered the lawyer's injunction to take a copyof her letter. a copy to be filed away with the documents in"lansing versus lansing!" she burst out laughing at the idea.

what were lawyers made of, she wondered? didn't the man guess,by the mere look in her eyes and the sound of her voice, thatshe would never, as long as she lived, forget a word of thatletter--that night after night she would lie down, as she waslying down to-night, to stare wide-eyed for hours into thedarkness, while a voice in her brain monotonously hammered out:

"nick dear, it was july when you left me ..." and so on, wordafter word, down to the last fatal syllable?