"She's a girl I was once engaged to, for a very short time," he added hastily.

"It was the week before my father died, and our smash came.

As soon as it came she threw me over." Daphne's intense gaze, under the slightly frowning brows, disquieted him.
"How long were you engaged to her ?" "Three weeks." "Had she been staying here before that ?" "Yes--she often stayed here.

Daphne! don't look like that! She treated me abominably; and before I married you I had come not to care twopence about her." "You did care about her when you proposed to me ?" "No!--not at all! Of course, when I went out to New York I was sore, because she had thrown me over." "And I"-- Daphne made a scornful lip--"was the feather-bed to catch you as you fell.

It never occurred to you that it might have been honourable to tell me ?" "Well, I don't know--I never asked you to tell me of your affairs!" Roger, his hands in his pockets, looked round at her with an awkward laugh.
"I told you everything!" was the quick reply--"_everything_." Roger uncomfortably remembered that so indeed it had been; and moreover that he had been a good deal bored at the time by Daphne's confessions.
He had not been enough in love with her--then--to find them of any great account.