The Descent of Man and Other Stories

om hearth, waited for his w

five-and-thirty years to which his wife confessed-but he had fancied himself already in the temperate zone; yet here he was listening for her step with a tender sense of a

the case promised to be a light one. The nurse spoke as reassuringly, and after a moment of alarm Mrs. Waythorn had adjusted herself to the situation. She was very fond of Lily-her affection for the child had perhaps been her decisive charm in Waythorn's eyes-but she had the perfectly balanced nerves which her little girl had inherited, and no woman ever wasted less tissue in unproductive worry. Waythorn was therefore qui

e was, there had always been a faint undercurrent of detraction. When she had appeared in New York, nine or ten years earlier, as the pretty Mrs. Haskett whom Gus Varick had unearthed somewhere-was it in Pittsburgh or Utica?-society, while promptly accepting her, had reserved the right to ca

to bear the inspection of the New York courts. A New York divorce is in itself a diploma of virtue, and in the semi-widowhood of this second separation Mrs. Varick took on an air of sanctity, and was allowed to confide her wrongs to some of the most scrupulous ears in town. But when it was known that she was to marry Waythorn there was a momentary reaction. Her best friends would have preferred

n amused confidence in his wife's ability to justify herself. His expectations were fulfilled, and before the wedding took place Alice Varick's group had rallied openly to her support. She took it all imperturbably: she had a way of surmounting obstacles without seeming to be aware of them, and Waythorn looked back with wonder at

face when she presently joined him. Though she had put on her most engaging teagown she had neglected t

sked. "Is anything

l sleeping." Mrs. Waythorn hesitated.

nd now perceived that he was

s le

written-I mean his

lush uncomfortably. He

t ab

Lily. You kn

he interrupt

scued, and Waythorn was one of the few who were aware that he had given up his business in Utica and followed her to New York in order to b

y," Mrs. Wayt

self. "What d

. You know she goes

xpect her to go to

her illness; but he

er

nder his gaze. They look

t....You'll see...." She ma

tood staring about the softly lighted room, which a

repeated. "If Lily c

question," he ret

ppose

g to tremble, and he

course," he said.

raid-to

end a note in

ntered to an

tired. It's beastly, but try to forget about

dear. I'll try,"

him across the flowers, between the rosy candle

thing is!" she si

he champagne at once, pleas

glasses. Her own were quite clear and untroubled: he

away with a ges