“I shall reward your thoughtfulness abundantly,” he replied, “for I am ravenous.”  He then greeted Mrs. Muir’s friends cordially, said some pleasant words, and even bowed, when retiring, very politely to Mrs. Wildmere, who in her meek, deprecating way sat near the door.

Two or three gentlemen sought Madge’s hand for the next dance, and she was out upon the floor again, her absence not having been commented upon.

Not a feature of this by-play had been lost on Miss Wildmere, and she smiled satirically.  “They thought to dupe me with delusions about Mr. Muir.  He has no more idea of failing than I have, and before very long he shall be Brother Henry to me as well as to Madge Alden.”

After a little while Madge excused herself and joined her relatives in the dining-room.  She found her sister happy in giving all the details of what had occurred in her husband’s absence, and he was listening with his usual quiet interest, while deliberately prolonging his meal to give the impression that his appetite made good his words.  But Madge saw that he was pale and at times preoccupied.

At last he rose from the table, and Mrs. Muir said, “I will go and have a look at the children, and then join you on the piazza.”

“Very well, Mary, I’ll be there soon.  I’ve sat so long in the cars that I want to walk a little for a change, so don’t hasten or worry if I’m gone a little longer than usual.  After such a splendid supper as you have secured for me I need a little exercise, and will smoke my cigar on my feet.  The fact is, I don’t get exercise enough.  Come, Madge, you’d walk all day if you had a chance.”

Mrs. Muir thought the idea very sensible.  Mr. Muir and Madge passed out through a side door.  The former lighted his cigar leisurely, and they strolled away as if for no other purpose than to enjoy the warm evening.  The storm had not come, but clouds were flying wildly across the disk of the moon, and the hurry-skurry in the sky was akin to the thoughts of the quiet saunterers.

“Where shall we go?” he asked.

“Not far away.  There is an open walk near, where we could see any one approach us.”

“Now, Madge,” Mr. Muir began, after reaching the spot, “I have followed your suggestions, for I have great confidence in your good sense.  Your words have worried me exceedingly.”

“There is reason for it, Henry, even though there is probably no truth in what has been said about your financial peril.”

“Great God!” he exclaimed, starting, “is that subject talked about?”

“Do you owe money to Mr. Arnault?”

“Yes,” with a groan.

“Would it hurt you should he demand it to-morrow?”

“Oh, Madge, this is dreadful!” and she saw that he was trembling.

“Now, Henry, take heart, and be your cool, brave self.”

“Give me a little time, Madge.  I’ve been carrying a heavy load, but thought the worst was over.  I believe things have touched bottom, and I was beginning to see my way to safety in a short time.  Even now the tide is turning, and I can realize on some things in a few days.  But if this money is demanded to-morrow—­Saturday, too, when nearly all my friends are out of town—­it is very doubtful whether I could raise it.”