Gordon ate his dinner in obstinate quiet, now and then looking at his wife's dazzling beauty with fevered yearning in his eyes.
When she rose from the table he said:
"I wish to speak with you in the library, my dear."
"Very well, I'll be down directly," she carelessly replied.
He paced the floor for half an hour, and rang for the maid.
"Tell your mistress I am waiting," he said, abruptly.
The maid did not return, and his anger grew with each lengthening minute.
At the end of an hour, Kate appeared.
He fixed her with a look of angry amazement.
"Well, what is it?" she asked, impatiently.
"Why did you keep your maid and send no answer to me?"
"I was writing a letter. Are you a king? What is it?" she repeated, coldly.
"I wish to say something of the utmost importance both to you and to me, and to another man," he said slowly, in a voice pulsing with a storm of emotion.
The violet eyes danced and laughed in his face.
"So tragic?" she asked, mockingly.
He locked his big hands nervously behind him, stood before the fire, and a scowl settled over his face.
"Yes," he said, with quiet force. "More than you
