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paper out before her, and read it through again. She knew now the reason for the slight coolness shown to her by the Ralstons, and some of the other race-goers, that afternoon; knew that the divorce case she had heard discussed was this one—that the co-respondent mentioned was herself. Scandal in Wairiri was like a bush fire after a dry, hot summer—it spread as quickly. Well, even if the case never came into the Court—and it was impossible to believe that there was the remotest chance of its doing so, still, the mere fact of her having been cited in the case might handicap her newly-started business. As far as her personal reputation was concerned, she did not care so much. If people could believe that of her after they had heard the true story, they weren’t worth considering. After all, she had no real friends to lose in Wairiri. Yet, suddenly realizing what the case might mean to her if by some unthinkable chance it did reach the Court, she saw herself in the witness-box being asked horrible, intimate questions—saw the eager sightseers in the gallery! Heard the badgering cross-examination!

Ann buried her face in her hands. How could she ever find courage enough to carry her through such an ordeal? For a moment she sat quite still. Then the wave of crimson which had surged up into her pale face receded, leaving her whiter than before. She must write to Vera at once. It wasn’t possible that Vera could bring this case. She knew the charge was false!

Even now Ann’s predominant feeling was not so much pity for herself, as pity for Dick Holmes. To be aware that he had unwittingly brought trouble on a friend would mean to Holmes very real suffering.