He had sent the man a message from the club to pack.

They left by the eight-forty train, and I expect they are well under way by this time." "That's quite too bad of Courtland," said Mr.Linton.

"I wanted to have a talk with him--a rather serious talk." Ella had listened to Mr.Ayrton's account of that little dinner party at the club with white cheeks--a moment before they had been red--and with her lips tightly closed.

Her hands were clenched until the tips of the nails were biting into each of her palms, before he had come to the end of his story--a story of one incident.

But when her husband had spoken her hands relaxed.