"Well," said his hostess, "I'm sure of the present. That's quite enough. He's not in love with her now—I have the proof."
"The proof?"
Mrs. Beever waited a moment. "His request in itself. If he were in love with her he never would have made it."
There was a momentary appearance on her companion's part of thinking this rather too fine; but he presently said: "You mean because he's completely held by his death-bed vow to his wife?"
"Completely held."
"There's no likelihood of his breaking it?"
"Not the slightest."
Dennis Vidal exhaled a low, long breath which evidently represented a certain sort of relief. "You're very positive; but I've a great respect for your judgment." He thought an instant, then he pursued abruptly: "Why did he wish her invited?"
"For reasons that, as he expressed them to me, struck me as natural enough. For the sake of old acquaintance—for the sake of his wife's memory."
"He doesn't consider, then, that Mrs. Bream's
