She turned away with a pout and a slight shrug of her pretty shoulders.

"It seems your smiles are for Miss Deane, while your black looks are reserved for your wife," she said.

"I have no interest in Miss Deane," he replied; "it is nothing to me how she behaves, but my wife's conduct is a matter of vital importance; and let me tell you, Zoe, I will have no more such exhibitions as you made of yourself to-night with either Mr. Larned or any other man. I won't allow it. There are some things a man won't put up with. You must and shall show some respect to my wishes in regard to this."

"Orders, you'd better say," she muttered.

"Well, then, orders, if you prefer it."

She was very angry, and withal a good deal frightened.

"Exhibitions indeed!" she cried, sinking into a chair, for she was trembling from head to foot. "What did I do? Why had you any more right to laugh and talk with another woman than I with another man?"

"Laughing and talking may be well enough; but it was more than that; you were actually flirting."

"You call it that just because you are jealous. And if I was, it was your fault--setting me the example by flirting with Miss Deane."

"I did nothing of the kind," he returned haughtily. "I sat beside her against my will, simply because she requested me to go over those sketches and engravings with her. I couldn't in common politeness refuse."

"Well, I didn't know that; and you needn't scold me for following your example."

"I tell you I did not set you the example; and I advise you to beware how you behave so again. Also how you interfere in the discipline grandpa and mamma see proper to use toward Max and his sisters, as you did to-night."

"So you have been acting the spy upon your wife!" she interrupted in scornful indignation.

"No; I overheard you quite accidentally. It is the second time you have done that thing, and I warn you to let it be the last."

"Indeed! Why don't you say at once that you'll beat me if I don't obey all your tyrannical orders?"

"Because it wouldn't be true; should I ever so far forget myself as to lift my hand against my wife, I could never again lay claim to the name of gentleman."

"Perhaps, then, you will lock me up?" she sneered.

"Possibly I may, if you make it necessary," he said coldly.

"Lock me up, indeed! I'd like to see you try it!" she cried, starting up with flashing eyes, and stamping her foot in a sort of fury of indignation.

Then rushing into the adjoining room, she tore off her ornaments and dress, pulled down her hair, her cheeks burning, her eyes hot and dry.

But by the time she had a.s.sumed her night-dress the first fury of pa.s.sion had spent itself, and scalding tears were raining down her cheeks.

She threw herself on the bed, sobbing convulsively. "Oh, I never, never thought he would treat me so! and he wouldn't dare if papa was alive; but he knows I've n.o.body to defend me--n.o.body in the wide world, and he can abuse me as much as he pleases. But I think it's very mean for a big strong man to be cruel to a little weak woman."

Then as her anger cooled still more, "But I have done and said provoking things to-day as well as he," she acknowledged to herself. "I suppose if I'd been in his place I'd have got mad, too, and scolded and threatened my wife. Well, if he'd only come and kiss me and coax me a little, I'd say I was sorry and didn't intend to vex him, so any more."

She hushed her sobs and listened. She could hear him moving about in the dressing-room.

"Edward!" she called in soft, tremulous tones.

No answer.

She waited a moment, then called a little louder, "Ned!"

There was no reply, and she turned over on her pillow, and cried herself to sleep.

When she woke all was darkness and silence.

She felt half frightened.

"Edward," she said softly, and put out her hand to feel for him.

He was not there. She sprang from the bed and groped her way into the dressing-room.

There the moon shone in, and by its light she perceived the form of her husband stretched upon a couch, while the sound of his breathing told her that he slept.

She crept back to her bed, and lay down upon it with such a sense of utter loneliness as she had never known before.

"Oh," she moaned to herself, "he hates me, he hates me! he wouldn't even lie down beside me! he will never love me any more."

She wept a long while, but at last fell into a profound sleep.

When she next awoke day had dawned, but it was earlier than their usual hour for rising.

The first object that met her gaze was Edward's untouched pillow, and the sight instantly brought back the events of the previous day and night.

Her first emotion was resentment toward her husband, but better thoughts succeeded. She loved him dearly, and for the sake of peace she would humble herself a little. She would go and wake him with a kiss, and say she was sorry to have vexed him, and if he'd only be kind and not order her, she wouldn't do so any more.

She slipped out of bed, stole noiselessly to the door of the dressing-room, and looked in.

He was not there, and the room was in great disorder, closet and wardrobe doors and bureau drawers open and things scattered here and there, as if he had made a hasty selection of garments, tossing aside such as he did not want.

As Zoe gazed about in wonder and surprise, the sound of wheels caught her ear.

She ran to a window overlooking a side entrance, and dropped on her knees before it to look and listen without danger of being seen.

There stood the family carriage. Edward was in the act of handing Miss Fleming into it; Miss Deane followed, and he stepped in after her, only pausing a moment with his foot upon the step to turn and answer a question from his mother.

"How long do you expect to be gone, Edward?" Elsie asked.

"Probably a week or ten days, mother," he replied. "Good-by," and in another instant the carriage rolled away.

Zoe felt stunned, bewildered, as she knelt there leaning her head against the window frame and watched it till it was out of sight.

"Gone!" she said aloud; "gone without one word of good-by to me, without telling me he was going, without saying he was sorry for his cruel words last night, and with Miss Deane. Oh, I know now that he hates me and will never, never love me again!"

Bitter, scalding tears streamed from her eyes. She rose presently and began mechanically picking up and putting away his clothes, then made her usual neat toilet, stopping every now and then to wipe away her tears, for she was crying all the time.

The breakfast bell rang at the accustomed hour, but she could not bear the thought of going down and showing her tear-swollen eyes at the table.

Besides, she did not feel hungry; she thought she would never want to eat again.