She sank into a chair half laughing and yet with an introverted expression-"_recueillement_d'esprit_," he thought to himself, bitterly. Brushing her hair in passing lightly with his lips, he left the room and presently the house. When she discovered that he had gone without again seeing her, she flew to the telephone and held a long incoherent talk with some one she not infrequently called "Ben, dear," to whom she confided certain undefined fears about her husband and her future.

A suggestion of a trip to Europe from the other end of the telephone met with her unbounded gratitude and enthusiasm. After urging haste, she left the colloquy almost her old smiling self, and went to the library, where she did not continue the reading of Boswell's "Life of Johnson," but went thence directly to the reception room-into which Robert had peered before leaving the house-and, stooping, she drew from under the lounge many sheets of paper, and was soon lost in their perusal. Robert had been forced to wait until he was settled on the train for Washington before he found time to read the note whose possession had caused Helen such perturbation.