Tragedy is, alas! written upon the face of many a bride whose portrait appears in the fashion-papers and whose toilette is so faithfully chronicled in the paragraph beneath. Indeed, the girl in Society who is allowed her own free choice in the matter of a husband is, alas! nowadays the exception, for parents who want to "get on" up the social scale have found that pretty daughters are a marketable commodity, and many a man has been placed "on his legs," both financially and socially, by his son-in-law. Hence the marriage of convenience is fast becoming common, while in the same ratio the divorce petitions are unfortunately on the increase.
I read tragedy in the dark luminous eyes of Muriel Leithcourt. I knew that her young heart was overburdened by some secret sorrow or guilty knowledge that she would reveal to me if she dared. Her own words told me that she was perplexed; that she longed to confide and seek advice of some one, yet by reason of some hidden and untoward circumstance her lips were sealed.
I tried to question her further regarding Woodroffe, of what profession he followed and of his past.
But she evidently suspected me, for I had unfortunately mentioned the Lola.
She wanted to speak to me in confidence, and yet she would reveal to me nothing — absolutely nothing.
