caldron between them. He rose as I entered, placed a chair for me, and leaned back in his own cosy, cushioned seat.
"Tell me everything, Mrs. Ravener," said Mr. Rickaby suavely, "no one comes to see me unless he has something to tell. Consider me your doctor or your lawyer. Explain your case, and I will diagnose it."
He said all this in rather a fragmentary manner, expecting me to begin, and uttering each new sentence as he noticed that I remained silent.
He encouraged me by his patience and well-bred demeanor. I told him my story,—at least as much as I could of it. I omitted the fact that Arthur left me a few hours after our wedding. Mr. Rickaby remained silent for some moments after I had finished. Then he asked me if I had taxed Arthur with neglect. I told him I had done so in a very vigorous manner.
"You suspect that you have a rival?" he asked, looking at me keenly.
"What am I to think?"
"Have you ever discovered any letters or
