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had a positive tenderness for her, never thought of her in the light of a companion, a counsellor, a friend. To be obliged to pass an evening in her drawing-room, unless he was discharging the duties of host to a circle of guests, wearied him intensely. He found more congenial amusement at his club, at young men's card parties, at horse races, during the season of that fashionable Charleston amusement, anywhere, but at his own fireside. And yet, there sat the being whom he had so ardently loved, so passionately worshipped, less than six years before, and who was still the personification of loveliness, but a lovely nullity!

The husband left her in perfect freedom to occupy or amuse herself in any way that she fancied, provided always that she did nothing conspicuous, however good or useful; nothing that would attract public attention, applause or admiration, except indeed the legitimate admiration to which every beauty is entitled in the ball room. His great fear was, not that some of life's responsibilities might remain unfulfilled, but a dread that the hidden sanctity of his home might be invaded by public comment. He had nothing to fear from Angelica. Her indolence was an impenetrable shield, no flash of intellect was likely to force its way through that barrier, and betray itself by some startling action.

Angelica had not seen Ruth Merriwether for nearly six years. The young wife, after her mar-