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 Xin-She Yang

Introduction to
Algorithms for Data Mining
and Machine Learning
Introduction to Algorithms for Data Mining and
Machine Learning
This page intentionally left blank
Introduction to
Algorithms for Data
Mining and Machine
Learning

Xin-She Yang
Middlesex University
School of Science and Technology
London, United Kingdom
Academic Press is an imprint of Elsevier
125 London Wall, London EC2Y 5AS, United Kingdom
525 B Street, Suite 1650, San Diego, CA 92101, United States
50 Hampshire Street, 5th Floor, Cambridge, MA 02139, United States
The Boulevard, Langford Lane, Kidlington, Oxford OX5 1GB, United Kingdom
Copyright © 2019 Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher. Details on how to seek permission, further information about the
Publisher’s permissions policies and our arrangements with organizations such as the Copyright Clearance Center
and the Copyright Licensing Agency, can be found at our website: www.elsevier.com/permissions.
This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the Publisher (other
than as may be noted herein).
Notices
Knowledge and best practice in this field are constantly changing. As new research and experience broaden our
understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices, or medical treatment may become necessary.
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in evaluating and using
any information, methods, compounds, or experiments described herein. In using such information or methods
they should be mindful of their own safety and the safety of others, including parties for whom they have a
professional responsibility.
To the fullest extent of the law, neither the Publisher nor the authors, contributors, or editors, assume any liability
for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter of products liability, negligence or otherwise, or
from any use or operation of any methods, products, instructions, or ideas contained in the material herein.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978-0-12-817216-2

For information on all Academic Press publications

visit our website at https://www.elsevier.com/books-and-journals

Publisher: Candice Janco

Acquisition Editor: J. Scott Bentley
Editorial Project Manager: Michael Lutz
Production Project Manager: Nilesh Kumar Shah
Designer: Miles Hitchen
Typeset by VTeX
Contents

About the author ix

Preface xi
Acknowledgments xiii

1 Introduction to optimization 1
1.1 Algorithms 1
1.1.1 Essence of an algorithm 1
1.1.2 Issues with algorithms 3
1.1.3 Types of algorithms 3
1.2 Optimization 4
1.2.1 A simple example 4
1.2.2 General formulation of optimization 7
1.2.3 Feasible solution 9
1.2.4 Optimality criteria 10
1.3 Unconstrained optimization 10
1.3.1 Univariate functions 11
1.3.2 Multivariate functions 12
1.4 Nonlinear constrained optimization 14
1.4.1 Penalty method 15
1.4.2 Lagrange multipliers 16
1.4.3 Karush–Kuhn–Tucker conditions 17
1.5 Notes on software 18

2 Mathematical foundations 19
2.1 Convexity 20
2.1.1 Linear and affine functions 20
2.1.2 Convex functions 21
2.1.3 Mathematical operations on convex functions 22
2.2 Computational complexity 22
2.2.1 Time and space complexity 24
2.2.2 Complexity of algorithms 25
2.3 Norms and regularization 26
2.3.1 Norms 26
2.3.2 Regularization 28
2.4 Probability distributions 29
2.4.1 Random variables 29
2.4.2 Probability distributions 30
vi Contents

2.4.3 Conditional probability and Bayesian rule 32

2.4.4 Gaussian process 34
2.5 Bayesian network and Markov models 35
2.6 Monte Carlo sampling 36
2.6.1 Markov chain Monte Carlo 37
2.6.2 Metropolis–Hastings algorithm 37
2.6.3 Gibbs sampler 39
2.7 Entropy, cross entropy, and KL divergence 39
2.7.1 Entropy and cross entropy 39
2.7.2 DL divergence 40
2.8 Fuzzy rules 41
2.9 Data mining and machine learning 42
2.9.1 Data mining 42
2.9.2 Machine learning 42
2.10 Notes on software 42

3 Optimization algorithms 45
3.1 Gradient-based methods 45
3.1.1 Newton’s method 45
3.1.2 Newton’s method for multivariate functions 47
3.1.3 Line search 48
3.2 Variants of gradient-based methods 49
3.2.1 Stochastic gradient descent 50
3.2.2 Subgradient method 51
3.2.3 Conjugate gradient method 52
3.3 Optimizers in deep learning 53
3.4 Gradient-free methods 56
3.5 Evolutionary algorithms and swarm intelligence 58
3.5.1 Genetic algorithm 58
3.5.2 Differential evolution 60
3.5.3 Particle swarm optimization 61
3.5.4 Bat algorithm 61
3.5.5 Firefly algorithm 62
3.5.6 Cuckoo search 62
3.5.7 Flower pollination algorithm 63
3.6 Notes on software 64

4 Data fitting and regression 67

4.1 Sample mean and variance 67
4.2 Regression analysis 69
4.2.1 Maximum likelihood 69
4.2.2 Liner regression 70
4.2.3 Linearization 75
4.2.4 Generalized linear regression 77
4.2.5 Goodness of fit 80
Contents vii

4.3 Nonlinear least squares 81

4.3.1 Gauss–Newton algorithm 82
4.3.2 Levenberg–Marquardt algorithm 85
4.3.3 Weighted least squares 85
4.4 Overfitting and information criteria 86
4.5 Regularization and Lasso method 88
4.6 Notes on software 90

5 Logistic regression, PCA, LDA, and ICA 91

5.1 Logistic regression 91
5.2 Softmax regression 96
5.3 Principal component analysis 96
5.4 Linear discriminant analysis 101
5.5 Singular value decomposition 104
5.6 Independent component analysis 105
5.7 Notes on software 108

6 Data mining techniques 109

6.1 Introduction 110
6.1.1 Types of data 110
6.1.2 Distance metric 110
6.2 Hierarchy clustering 111
6.3 k-Nearest-neighbor algorithm 112
6.4 k-Means algorithm 113
6.5 Decision trees and random forests 115
6.5.1 Decision tree algorithm 115
6.5.2 ID3 algorithm and C4.5 classifier 116
6.5.3 Random forest 120
6.6 Bayesian classifiers 121
6.6.1 Naive Bayesian classifier 121
6.6.2 Bayesian networks 123
6.7 Data mining for big data 124
6.7.1 Characteristics of big data 124
6.7.2 Statistical nature of big data 125
6.7.3 Mining big data 125
6.8 Notes on software 127

7 Support vector machine and regression 129

7.1 Statistical learning theory 129
7.2 Linear support vector machine 130
7.3 Kernel functions and nonlinear SVM 133
7.4 Support vector regression 135
7.5 Notes on software 137
viii Contents

8 Neural networks and deep learning 139

8.1 Learning 139
8.2 Artificial neural networks 140
8.2.1 Neuron models 140
8.2.2 Activation models 141
8.2.3 Artificial neural networks 143
8.3 Back propagation algorithm 146
8.4 Loss functions in ANN 147
8.5 Optimizers and choice of optimizers 149
8.6 Network architecture 149
8.7 Deep learning 151
8.7.1 Convolutional neural networks 151
8.7.2 Restricted Boltzmann machine 157
8.7.3 Deep neural nets 158
8.7.4 Trends in deep learning 159
8.8 Tuning of hyperparameters 160
8.9 Notes on software 161

Bibliography 163

Index 171
About the author

Xin-She Yang obtained his PhD in Applied Mathematics from the University of Ox-
ford. He then worked at Cambridge University and National Physical Laboratory (UK)
as a Senior Research Scientist. Now he is Reader at Middlesex University London, and
an elected Bye-Fellow at Cambridge University.
He is also the IEEE Computer Intelligence Society (CIS) Chair for the Task Force
on Business Intelligence and Knowledge Management, Director of the International
Consortium for Optimization and Modelling in Science and Industry (iCOMSI), and
an Editor of Springer’s Book Series Springer Tracts in Nature-Inspired Computing
(STNIC).
With more than 20 years of research and teaching experience, he has authored
10 books and edited more than 15 books. He published more than 200 research pa-
pers in international peer-reviewed journals and conference proceedings with more
than 36 800 citations. He has been on the prestigious lists of Clarivate Analytics and
Web of Science highly cited researchers in 2016, 2017, and 2018. He serves on the
Editorial Boards of many international journals including International Journal of
Bio-Inspired Computation, Elsevier’s Journal of Computational Science (JoCS), In-
ternational Journal of Parallel, Emergent and Distributed Systems, and International
Journal of Computer Mathematics. He is also the Editor-in-Chief of the International
Journal of Mathematical Modelling and Numerical Optimisation.
This page intentionally left blank
Preface

Both data mining and machine learning are becoming popular subjects for university
courses and industrial applications. This popularity is partly driven by the Internet and
social media because they generate a huge amount of data every day, and the under-
standing of such big data requires sophisticated data mining techniques. In addition,
many applications such as facial recognition and robotics have extensively used ma-
chine learning algorithms, leading to the increasing popularity of artificial intelligence.
From a more general perspective, both data mining and machine learning are closely
related to optimization. After all, in many applications, we have to minimize costs,
errors, energy consumption, and environment impact and to maximize sustainabil-
ity, productivity, and efficiency. Many problems in data mining and machine learning
are usually formulated as optimization problems so that they can be solved by opti-
mization algorithms. Therefore, optimization techniques are closely related to many
techniques in data mining and machine learning.
Courses on data mining, machine learning, and optimization are often compulsory
for students, studying computer science, management science, engineering design, op-
erations research, data science, finance, and economics. All students have to develop
a certain level of data modeling skills so that they can process and interpret data for
classification, clustering, curve-fitting, and predictions. They should also be familiar
with machine learning techniques that are closely related to data mining so as to carry
out problem solving in many real-world applications. This book provides an introduc-
tion to all the major topics for such courses, covering the essential ideas of all key
algorithms and techniques for data mining, machine learning, and optimization.
Though there are over a dozen good books on such topics, most of these books are
either too specialized with specific readership or too lengthy (often over 500 pages).
This book fills in the gap with a compact and concise approach by focusing on the key
concepts, algorithms, and techniques at an introductory level. The main approach of
this book is informal, theorem-free, and practical. By using an informal approach all
fundamental topics required for data mining and machine learning are covered, and
the readers can gain such basic knowledge of all important algorithms with a focus
on their key ideas, without worrying about any tedious, rigorous mathematical proofs.
In addition, the practical approach provides about 30 worked examples in this book
so that the readers can see how each step of the algorithms and techniques works.
Thus, the readers can build their understanding and confidence gradually and in a
step-by-step manner. Furthermore, with the minimal requirements of basic high school
mathematics and some basic calculus, such an informal and practical style can also
enable the readers to learn the contents by self-study and at their own pace.
This book is suitable for undergraduates and graduates to rapidly develop all the
fundamental knowledge of data mining, machine learning, and optimization. It can
xii Preface

also be used by students and researchers as a reference to review and refresh their
knowledge in data mining, machine learning, optimization, computer science, and data
science.

Xin-She Yang
January 2019 in London
Acknowledgments

I would like to thank all my students and colleagues who have given valuable feedback
and comments on some of the contents and examples of this book. I also would like to
thank my editors, J. Scott Bentley and Michael Lutz, and the staff at Elsevier for their
professionalism. Last but not least, I thank my family for all the help and support.

Xin-She Yang
January 2019
This page intentionally left blank
Discovering Diverse Content Through
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of him.
"So Chris will be home on Thursday?"
She shook her head; for a moment she could not trust her voice.
Then she said lightly:
"He's not coming after all. I've just this minute had a wire." She
went over to the grate, picked up the crumpled telegram and
handed it to him. "It's just come," she said again faintly.
Feathers read it without comment, and Marie rushed on:
"I suppose you've all had such a good time you don't want to come
back to smoky old London—is that it?"
"We did have a good time, certainly, but I came back on Monday,
and I understood that Knight and Chris were following on Thursday."
"Yes."
Feathers dragged up a chair and sat down.
"And what have you been doing?" he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know; nothing very much. I went to one or two theaters
with Mr. Atkins."
"Atkins!"
"Yes. Why not? I like him; he's such a nice boy."
"Nice enough," Feathers admitted grudgingly.
"I shall expect you to take me now you've come home," Marie went
on, hardly knowing what she was saying. "I'm so tired of being
139a

grass widow." she added desperately.

She was longing to ask about Chris, what he was doing and who
was up there with him, but she was afraid.
"I'm not keen on theaters," Feathers said slowly. "But I shall be
delighted to take you if you would care for it."
"Of course!" There was a burning flush in her cheeks that made her
look as if she were feverish, and her voice was shrill and excited as
she went on: "I think this must be one of the occasions when I want
a big brother, and—oh, you did offer, you know!" she added forlornly.
Feathers looked up quickly and smiled.
"Well, here I am," he said.
Miss Chester came into the room at that moment. She knew
Feathers well; Chris had brought him to the house several times
before, it appeared, when Marie was still at school in France and she
was not slow in demanding news.
"When is Chris coming home? Why didn't you bring him with you,
Mr. Dakers? He has been away quite long enough; he ought to come
home and look after his wife——"
"Oh, Auntie!" Marie cried, distressed.
"So he ought to, my dear," the old lady insisted. "You want a change
of air yourself. Isn't she pale, Mr. Dakers?"
Feathers glanced quickly at Marie and away again.
"I think Chris will be home soon," he said quietly. "I am afraid golf is
a very selfish game, Miss Chester."
"And Dorothy Webber—is she still up there?" Miss Chester asked
presently.
Marie held her breath; it was the question she had longed and
dreaded to ask.
"She was there when I left," Feathers said reluctantly. "She is a very
fine golfer."
Marie broke in in a high-pitched voice:
"I asked her to come and stay with me, you know, but she had 140

already accepted this invitation to Scotland. Wasn't it queer the way

Chris met her?"
"Very queer."
"I was at school with her; she was my best friend."
"Yes, so she told me, but I knew already—from you."
Marie's too-bright eyes met his.
"And do you like her?" she asked. "I said I thought you would, if you
remember, and you were not sure."
He raised his shaggy brows.
"Like her? Well—I hardly know. She's good company."
Good company—the very thing that Marie had dreaded to hear.
"I'm not very fond of sporting women," Feathers went on. "They're
so restless. Don't you agree, Miss Chester?"
"They were certainly unheard of when I was a girl," she answered
severely. "We never wore short skirts and played strenuous games. I
think croquet was the fashion when I was Marie's age! I can
remember playing in a private tournament with your mother, Marie."
Marie bent and kissed her, laughing.
"That is where I get my stay-at-home, early Victorian instincts from,
perhaps," she said rather bitterly.
She went into the hall with Feathers when he left.
"It was so kind of you to send me that white heather," she told him,
shyly. "I always wear a piece of it for luck."
A dull flush deepened the bronze of his ugly face.
"I hope it will live up to its reputation," he said. He held out his
hand. "When may I see you again? I am staying in London for a
week or so, and I haven't anything particular to do."
"Any time—I shall be so glad to see you. Will tomorrow be too
soon?" She made the suggestion diffidently. Chris' indifference had
made her apprehensive and uncertain of herself. She was terribly
afraid of forcing her company where it was not wanted.
"To-morrow by all means!" he answered readily, "Shall we have a
day in the country?"
"Oh, how lovely!" Her eyes lit up with delight. 141

"I'll bring my car." he said. "It's a bit of a bone-shaker, not a first-

class affair like yours Mrs. Lawless, but it runs well. What time?"
"Any time; as early as you like."
"Ten o'clock then?"
"Yes."
"Good-night."
"Good-night, Mr. Dakers,"
142
 CHAPTER XIII
"I was a sailor, sailing on sweet seas,
Trading in singing birds and humming bees.
But now I sail no more before the breeze.
You were a pirate met me on the sea;
You spoke, with life behind you, suddenly;
You stepped upon my ship, and spoke to me:
And while you took my hand and kissed my lips,
You sank my ships, you sank my sailing ships."

MARIE sang a little snatch of song as she went back to Miss Chester;
she had not felt so lighthearted for many a day.
"I'm going into the country with Mr. Dakers to-morrow." she said.
"Think of it—a whole day in the country! Won't it be lovely?"
Miss Chester looked up with shrewd eyes.
"You talk as if you have never had the opportunity before," she said.
"The car is always here—you might spend all your time in the
country if you chose, Marie."
"I know—I suppose it never occurred to me."
Miss Chester knitted a row without speaking, then she said gently:
"Dear child, do you think Chris would be quite pleased if he knew
you were running about London with his friends like this?"
Marie swung round as if she had been struck.
"What do you mean. Aunt Madge?" Her voice was defiant, but the
old lady went on insistently without raising her eyes:
"I know things have progressed since I was a girl, but if I were a
man I should not care for my wife to have men friends, as you seem
to have."
"Chris does not care," said Marie, and she laughed.
"I suppose you are still thinking about Mr. Atkins, Aunt Madge. 143
He
was only a boy."
"Do you call Mr. Dakers a boy, too?" Miss Chester asked quietly.
"Of course not." Marie frowned; then all at once she broke into a
laugh of sheer amusement. "Aunt Madge, you're not suggesting that
Mr. Dakers, too, is fond of me? Why, don't you know that he hates
women?"
Miss Chester stooped for her ball of wool, which had fallen to the
floor. "As a rule, Marie, men are rather selfish, and I cannot imagine
a man going out of his way to take any woman whom he hated for a
day in the country."
Marie laughed again.
"Oh, don't be silly, dear!" she protested.
She went behind Miss Chester's chair and clasped her arms loosely
round the old lady's neck, standing so that she could not be seen.
"I've only ever loved one man," she said in a hard voice. "And you
know who that is, don't you?"
Miss Chester put her wrinkled hand over Marie's.
"My old eyes see a great many things I am supposed to be unable to
see," she said sadly.
There was a little silence; then Marie whispered:
"Yes—I knew that."
"And so that is why I say be careful, dear child," the old lady went
on. "But I know you will."
Marie bent and kissed her.
"Poor Mr. Dakers!" she said, with a little grimace. "He would run
away forever and ever if he could hear what we have been saying."
Miss Chester did not answer.
Marie slept dreamlessly that night, and for the first time since her
marriage woke with the feeling that there was something pleasant to
look forward to.
The sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky as she
flung the window wide.
Across the rows of houses and crowded chimney-pots she seemed to
hear the voice of the country calling to her—seemed to hear 144
the
wind in the trees and smell the magic of the hay.
"And they will be making the hay." she told herself delightedly, as
she waited for Feathers to come. "I wonder if they will let us help!"
She had almost forgotten that there might be a letter from Chris that
morning. It gave her a little shock to see it lying on the breakfast-
table. It was as if for a space she had forgotten how to suffer and
grieve, and now the sight of his handwriting had dragged her back
to it once again.
Chris had written in a tearing hurry—or so he said. He had packed
up to come home, and then a friend of his had asked him to play in
a golf tournament, and after a lot of persuasion he had given in, and
he was going to play with Dorothy Webber for a partner, so he
thought they stood a good chance of carrying off a prize.
Marie read it apathetically. Her heart felt as hard as a stone. The
letter told her nothing she had not already guessed. She crushed it
into her coat pocket and tried to forget it.
He had put the importance of a stupid golf handicap before her!
Well, if she cried herself blind it would not alter things or change
him.
"I suppose Mrs. Heriot didn't turn up in Scotland," she said cynically
to Feathers as they drove away.
He kept his eyes steadily before him as he answered:
"If she did I did not see her."
Marie laughed hysterically.
"I thought you might have done so."
There was a little silence, then Feathers said quietly:
"Mrs. Lawless, why do you talk like that? You know quite well you
never thought anything of the sort."
She flushed hotly at the rebuke in his words and answered sharply:
"I forgot that you were Chris' friend. Of course, you are bound to
defend him. I wonder why men always defend one another?"
Feathers smiled rather grimly.
"Perhaps it's a case of thieves hanging together," he said. "But you
145

do him an injustice if you think that women have the least attraction
for him—you do, indeed! And, as to being his friend . . ." he
hesitated, "I think, perhaps, I am more your friend than his."
"And yet you hated it when he married me," she said impulsively.
"Perhaps I am still unreconciled to that," he said.
"What do you mean?"
He looked down at her from beneath his shaggy brows. "I am going
to answer that question by asking another. Why did you take such a
violent dislike to me the first night we met?"
The color rushed to her face. The memory of that night was still
bitter and unforgettable. Her first impulse was to refuse to tell him.
Then suddenly she changed her mind.
Why should she spare Chris, or try any longer to defend him when
he was undefendable?
"You said that you would tell me some day," Feathers reminded her.
"I know." But it was some minutes before she told him.
"I was sitting in the lounge that night after dinner, and heard you
telling someone that Chris had only married me for my money."
The driving-wheel jerked furiously beneath Feathers' hand, and for
an instant the car swerved dangerously. Then he jammed the brakes
home and brought it to a standstill at the roadside.
They were in the country now, with hedge-topped banks on either
side, and it was all so still and silent that they might have been the
only two in the world.
Feathers half-turned in his seat. His face was white and horrified,
and for a moment he stared at her, his lips twitching as if he were
trying to speak and could find no words.
Marie looked at him with misty eyes, and, seeing the pain and
shame in his face, laid her hand gently on his arm.
"Please don't look like that. It hurt at first, but afterwards I was glad
146

that I knew—really glad!"

"No wonder you hated me."
"That was because I did not know you," she said quickly. "I don't
hate you now, do I?"
He looked away from her.
"So it's all my fault," he said harshly.
She echoed his words:
"All your fault? What do you mean?"
"That you and Chris are not happy . . ."
Her face quivered sensitively, then she said very gently:
"You mustn't think that—please! All you did was to let me know a
little sooner than I should have done if I hadn't overheard what you
said. And I'm glad, really glad, about it now! It would have hurt
much more if I'd not found out for some time afterwards. You see"—
she paused a moment to steady her voice—"you see, Chris never
really loved me, and that's all about it."
"No wonder you hate me," he said again heavily.
"I don't hate you—in fact, I should like to tell you something, Mr.
Dakers, then perhaps you won't feel so badly about it. May I?"
"Well?" The monosyllable came gruffly.
"It's just that the one good thing that has happened to me since—
since I married Chris—is having met you! I shall always be glad of
that, no matter what happens, for you've been such a kind friend.
Please believe me."
Dakers looked down at the hand resting on his arm.
"Do you believe in friendship between a man and woman, Mrs.
Lawless?" he asked, in a queer voice.
"Oh, yes!" said Marie, fervently. "Don't you?"
"I am not sure."
She looked up in dismay.
"But you said—I thought you said . . ."
He broke in abruptly.
"Look at the view on your left." She turned her head obediently and
gave a little exclamation of delight. The high hedge had suddenly
ended, leaving only a wide expanse of meadows that sloped down to
a river flowing at the bottom of a high wooded hill. 147

Some women in picturesque cotton frocks were tossing the hay in

one of the meadows, and the scent of it was wafted through the
sunshine.
Marie clasped her hands like a delighted child.
"I did so hope we should see them making hay," she said. "Oh, do
you think we might go and help?"
She had forgotten their previous serious conversation, to Feathers'
infinite relief. He laughed as he answered that he did not think they
could very well suggest giving any assistance.
"I want to take you much further, too," he said. "I know an inn
where we can get a lunch fit for a king, and any amount of cream
and things like that."
"I love cream," said Marie.
She leaned back beside him contentedly, and fell into a day dream.
The easy droning of the engine was very soothing, and the soft air
on her face seemed to blow away all the cobwebs and perplexities
that had worried her during the past two months. For a little time
she gave herself up to the restfulness of it all and the simple
enjoyment.
Feathers let her alone. He was not a talkative man, and he only
spoke now and again to point out some exquisite bit of scenery or
tell her something of the surrounding country.
"You know it well, then?" she asked, and he said that he and Chris
had often motored that way together.
Her husband's name gave Marie a stab of pain. For a little while she
had resolutely pushed him into the background of her thoughts. She
sat up when Feathers spoke of him, and the look of quiet
contentment faded from her eyes.
What was Chris doing now? And why was he not here beside her
instead of this man? Then she looked at Feathers' kind, ugly face
and remorse smote her.
He was such a good friend. She knew she ought to be grateful to
him for the unobtrusive help he had tried to give her.
But she could not resist one question: "You and Chris used to 148
go
about together a great deal?"
"Yes; nearly always."
"And now—I suppose I have spoilt it all. Have I?"
Feathers' face hardened. "I wish I could be sure that you had," was
the answer that rose to his lips, but he checked it, and only said:
"I have told you you must not talk nonsense." He pointed ahead.
"That is the inn. I hope you are hungry."
He ran the car into a queer, cobble-stoned yard, and drew up at the
door of the inn.
It was a very old house, with sloping roofs, on which lichen grew in
short, thick clumps, and a straggly vine covered its weather- beaten
face.
"I wired we were coming," Feathers said. "The people here know
me."
He led the way into the parlor. It was bare-boarded with a trestle
table running its full length, and wooden benches on either side, but
everything was spotlessly clean, and Marie was delighted.
She had never seen an old fireplace with chimney corners like the
one in this room. She had never seen such wonderful copper as the
old shining pots and pans that hung on the walls.
The landlady was stout and smiling, with a face that shone with a
generous application of soap, and she wore long amber earrings.
She seemed very pleased to see Feathers.
"It's a long time since you came to visit us, sir! And the other
gentleman—Mr. Lawless—I hope he is well."
"I've just left him in Scotland," Feathers explained. "I dare say you
will see him before long. He's been getting married, you know."
"Indeed, sir! I'm sure I wish him luck." She looked at Marie, and
Feathers said hastily: "This is Mrs. Lawless."
He had a vivid recollection of another occasion when somebody had
149

asked if he were Marie's husband, and he was not risking a

repetition of it.
"Many people staying here, Mrs. Costin?" he asked.
"No, sir—only two ladies at present, but we expect to be full for the
week-end." She looked at Marie. "There are fine golf links close to
us," she explained.
"I seem to be hopelessly out of fashion because I don't play golf,"
Marie said when she and Feathers were alone again. "I think I am
beginning to hate the very name of it."
"You must let me teach you to play."
Marie sighed and looked out of the window to the narrow country
road. "I think I'm too tired to learn anything," she said despondently.
Feathers frowned; he thought she looked very frail, and in spite of
his words he could not picture her swinging a club and ploughing
through all weathers as Dorothy Webber had done in Scotland.
"You've no right to be tired," he said angrily. "A child like you!"
She looked up, the ready tears coming to her eyes.
"Do you think I'm such a child?" she asked. "That's what Chris
always says—a kid, he calls me! And yet I don't feel so very young,
you know."
"I should like to be as young," Feathers said.
She leaned her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Thirty-eight next birthday—as you insist."
She did not seem surprised.
"I wonder what I shall be like when I'm thirty-eight?" she hazarded.
Feathers did not answer; he was doing a rapid calculation in his
mind; he knew that she, nineteen now, was nineteen years his
junior. That meant that when she was thirty-six he would be fifty-
five!
His mouth twisted into a grim smile. Life was a queer thing. He
wondered what he would have said had anyone told him three
months ago that he would be lunching here with Christopher's wife
—quite contentedly.
There were voices in the cobble-stoned yard outside, and Marie
150

looked towards the window.

"Two people coming in," she said. "I suppose that's who the other
places are laid for." She indicated the further end of the table.
"The two people Mrs. Costin mentioned, I suppose," Feathers said.
"Won't you have some more cream? I always think . . ." he broke off
as the door opened and Mrs. Heriot walked into the room.
There was a moment of blank surprise, then he rose to his feet.
"The world is a small place; how do you do?" he said calmly.
Mrs. Heriot found her voice, of which sheer astonishment had
robbed her; she broke out volubly.
"Mr. Dakers, of all people! And Mrs. Lawless too! Who on earth
would have dreamed of meeting you here? That must be your car in
the yard!"
She shook hands with Marie. "The world is a small place, isn't it?"
"Are you staying here?" Marie asked. She did not care in the least,
but it was something to say.
"Yes—with my sister. It's dull, but at week-ends we have quite a
good time. You must come down," she added, turning to Feathers.
"And how is Chris?"
"I left him in Scotland—golfing," Feathers said. "He is coming up to
town this week."
"Really! How delightful! Bring him down, and we'll have a foursome.
You don't play, do you, Mrs. Lawless? What a pity! Don't you care for
the game?"
"I've never played."
"Well, you must begin. Get Mr. Dakers to teach you." She turned as
her sister entered. "Lena, I've just run into two friends. Isn't it
queer? May I introduce my sister, Mrs. Rendle—Mrs. Lawless, and
Mr. Dakers."
Mrs. Rendle looked Marie up and down critically and nodded. She
was very like her sister, only older and less smart.
"You've just finished lunch, I see," Mrs. Heriot said. "What a pity! 151
We
might have all had it together."
"We're not staying—we're going on," Feathers said hurriedly. "I'm
taking Mrs. Lawless down to see some friends at Wendover."
"Really! How perfectly delightful!" She drew Feathers a little away
from her sister and Marie. "Has she been ill again?" she asked, with
assumed concern. "I never saw anyone age as she has."
"Really!" Feathers looked at her stonily. "Mrs. Lawless looks just the
same to me." He had always hated Mrs. Heriot and he hated her
now more than ever. He made some pretext and went out to the car.
"Be sure to tell Chris that we are here," Mrs. Heriot said to Marie.
"It's a nine hole course, but quite good! Send him down for a week-
end."
"I won't forget," Marie promised.
She was thankful when Feathers came to say it was time to start.
She gave a little sigh of relief as they drove away.
Feathers glanced down at her sympathetically.
"Cat!" he said eloquently.
"I am afraid I do rather hate her," Marie faltered.
"The sister is a give-away," Feathers said. "One can see now what
Mrs. Heriot will be like in another ten years."
Marie could not help laughing.
"Oh, but how unkind!" she said. A little mischievous sparkle lit her
brown eyes. "And we're not really going to see any friends at
Wendover, are we?"
"No," he laughed with her. "I'd tell that woman anything," he said,
with a sort of savagery.
They stopped again for tea at a cottage, and the woman who owned
it gave Marie a big bunch of flowers to carry away.
"Now I really took as if I've been for a day in the country," she said
laughingly to Feathers. "People always trail home with bunches of
flowers, don't they?"
"I suppose they do." He touched the bunch lying in her lap. "May I
have one?"
"Of course!" She picked them up quickly. "Which one?" 152

He indicated a blue flower.

"Don't you think that would rather suit my style of beauty?" he asked
grimly.
She drew it from the bunch.
"It's called 'love-in-a-mist,'" she said. "Shall I put it in your coat?"
"Please."
He had been starting the engine, and he came to the door of the car
and stooped for her to fasten the flower in his button-hole.
"Will that do?" she asked.
"Thank you." He got in beside her and they drove on.
"Which way shall we go home?" he asked.
"Any way—I don't mind. I don't know the roads, but I should like to
pass those hayfields again."
"Very well. You're not cold, are you?"
"Oh, no."
"If you are, there is my coat."
It was getting dusk rapidly, the moon stood out like a golden sickle
against the darkening sky, and there was a faint breath of autumn in
the air.
Marie drew the rug more closely about her. She felt gloriously sleepy,
and the scent of the big bunch of flowers on her lap was almost like
an anaesthetic with its intoxicating mixture of perfume.
When they came to the hayfields which they had passed early in the
morning Feathers stopped the car and spoke:
"Are you asleep? You are so quiet."
"No; I was just thinking."
She sat up and looked at the view, more beautiful now in the
subdued light and shadow of evening.
The world seemed filled with the scent of the warm hay, and once
again, with a swift pang, her thoughts flew to Chris.
Where was he? Oh, where was he? Her heart seemed to stretch out
to him with a great cry of longing, but her little face was quiet
enough when presently she looked up at Feathers.
"Shall we go on now?" 153

He drove on silently.
"It's been such a lovely day," Marie said. "I have enjoyed it. Thank
you so much for bringing me."
"That's like a little girl coming home from a party," Feathers said.
"We can have another run out any time you like."
"It's been perfectly lovely! I was so tired when we started, but it's
been a beautiful rest, and I'm not tired any more."
But, all the same, when next he spoke to her she did not answer,
and, looking v quickly down at her, he saw that she was asleep.
Her head had drooped forward uncomfortably, and he could see the
dark lashes down-pointed on her cheek.
He slowed down a little, and slipping an arm behind her, and drew
her gently back until her head rested against his shoulder.
Mrs. Heriot had said that Marie looked years older, and in his heart
Feathers knew she was right, but the kindly hand of sleep seemed to
have wiped the lines and shadows from her face, and it was just a
child who rested there against his shoulder.
What was to become of her, he asked himself wretchedly, and what
was to be the end of this mistaken marriage?
He could almost find it in his heart to hate Chris as he drove grimly
on through the gathering night, with the slight pressure of Marie's
head on his shoulder.
Only nineteen! Only a child still! And a passionate longing to shield
her and secure her happiness rose in his heart. He had led a queer
life, a selfish life, he supposed, pleasing himself and going his own
way in very much the same fashion as Chris Lawless had always
done and was still doing, but then he had had no woman to love him
or to love—until now, and now . . . Feathers looked down at the
delicate little face that lay like a white flower against his rough coat
in the moonlight, and he knew with a grim pain that yet was almost
welcome to his queer nature that he would give everything in the
world if only her happiness could be assured.
154
CHAPTER XIV
"And I remember that I sat me down
Upon the slope with her, and thought the world
Must be all over, or had never been,
We seemed there so alone."

MARIE did not answer the letter from Chris, and he wrote again two
days later, much to her surprise:
"Dear Marie Celeste,—I hope you are not disappointed because I did
not turn up the other night. I really wish I had now, as the weather
has broken, and we've been having downpours of rain every day, so
the handicap has been postponed. If it was not that there are
several good bridge players in the hotel I don't know how the deuce
we should pass the time. Have you seen Feathers? He said he
should look you up, but I don't expect he has, the old blighter! Let
me know how you are. I am sending you a cairngorm brooch with
diamonds, and hope you will like it.—Yours affectionately, Chris."
Marie waited till the arrival of the brooch before she wrote:
"Dear Chris,—Thank you for your letter and the brooch, which is very
uncommon. I am sorry the weather is so bad for you; it's quite good
here. Yes, Mr. Dakers came to see us. I think he looks very well.
Don't hurry home on my account. I am quite all right.—Yours
affectionately, Marie Celeste."
What a letter, she thought, as she read it through—the sort of letter
one might write to an acquaintance, certainly not to a man one
loved best in the world!
She showed the brooch to Feathers.
"Yes, it's rather pretty," he agreed. "Everybody seems to wear that
155

stone in Scotland. Does Chris say when he is coming home?"

"No—he says the weather is bad."
"He'll soon be home then."
A flicker of eagerness crossed her eyes,
"Oh, do you think so?"
"He will, if it's really bad! You've no idea what it can be like up there
once it starts to be wet."
Marie and Feathers had motored together a great deal since that
first day.
"There'll be time enough for theatres when the winter comes,"
Feathers said. "I don't suppose you've seen much of the country,
have you?"
"No."
"Then we'll have a run to the New Forest some day."
Marie looked up hesitatingly.
"Would you mind if Aunt Madge came?"
During the last few days she had been vaguely conscious of Miss
Chester's silent disapproval.
"I shall be delighted if Miss Chester will come," Feathers said readily.
But Miss Chester refused. She did not mind a short run, she said, but
it was too far into Hampshire, so they must go without her.
She watched them drive away, and then sat down to write to Chris.
She marked the letter "Private," and underlined the word twice to
draw attention to it. She wrote:
"My dear Chris,—Don't you think it's time you came home? Soon it
will be five weeks since you went away, and it is a little hard on
Marie, though she has not said one word of complaint to me. Mr.
Dakers is very kind, taking her for drives, and looking in to cheer us
up, but the child must want her own husband, and you have been
married such a little time. She does not know I am writing to you,
and she would be very angry if she ever discovered it but take an
old woman's advice, my dear boy, and come back."
She felt much happier when the letter had been despatched; she
went back to her knitting quite happily to wait events. 156
But events came sooner than she had anticipated, for the morning
post brought a letter, which had evidently crossed hers, to say that
Chris was already on his way home, but was breaking the journey at
Windermere for a few days to stay with friends.
"So he cannot have had my letter!" Miss Chester thought in dismay.
She hoped it would eventually reach him.
If she had been uneasy about young Atkins, she was much more
perturbed about Feathers. She fully recognized the strength of the
man and the attraction he would undoubtedly have for some
women, and she knew that he was already too interested in Marie.
"Chris ought never to have gone away alone," was her distressed
thought. "If he had taken Marie with him, it would have been all
right."
And down in the Hampshire woods Marie was just then saying to
Feathers: "I do wish Aunt Madge had come! Wouldn't she have loved
it?"
"I think she would. Perhaps she will come some other time."
They had brought their own lunch and had camped at the foot of a
mossy bank on the shady side of the road.
It was very peaceful—the silence was hardly broken save for the
occasional flutter of wings in the trees overhead or the distant sound
of a motor horn from the main road.
Feathers was lounging on the grass beside Marie, his hat thrown off
and his hair rumpled up anyhow.
There was a little silence, then Marie said:
"I don't think I've ever seen anything so lovely. I wonder why Chris
didn't came to a place like this, instead of——" She broke off,
realizing that she was speaking her thoughts aloud.
"Instead of to that Tower of Babel by the sea, eh?" Feathers asked
casually.
"Yes, that is what I meant."
"I suppose he thought you would find it more amusing." 157

"Or that he would," said Marie bitterly.

Feathers did not answer. He was clumsily threading bits of grass
through the ribbon of Marie's hat, which lay beside him.
"What's become of young Atkins?" he asked abruptly.
The unexpectedness of the question sent the color to Marie's face. "I
don't know," she said guiltily. "He hasn't been around lately. I liked
him so much," she added wistfully.
She looked down at Feathers with thoughtful eyes. He was a big,
clumsy figure lying there, and she smiled as she watched him busily
tucking the blades of grass into the ribbon of her hat.
"Do you think you are improving it?" she asked suddenly.
He looked up, and their eyes met.
Feathers did not answer. He was clumsily threading up with sudden
energy.
"Shall we go on?" he asked, "or would you prefer to stay here?"
"We might stay a little while, don't you think?"
"For ever, if you like!"
She made a little grimace.
"We should hate it if it began to rain."
He looked up at the thick branches above their heads.
"Rain would not easily get through here. Chris and I camped
somewhere near this place a couple of years ago."
"It must have been lovely."
"It wasn't so bad. We slept out in the open air on warm nights."
Marie leaned back against the great trunk of the tree under which
they had lunched, and looked away into the avenue of green arches
before them.
During the last day or two she had not thought so often of Chris,
and to-day the mention of him had not brought that little stab of
pain to her heart. Neither did she wish for him so passionately, 158
nor
think what happiness it would be to have him beside her instead of
Feathers.
She was always glad to be with Feathers. His strong, ugly face had
lost all its ugliness for her. She only saw his kindliness and heard the
gentleness of his voice.
Her eyes dwelt on him seriously. Some woman was losing a kind
husband, she thought, and impulsively she said:
"Mr. Dakers—I should like to see you married."
He turned his head slowly and looked at her, and she wondered if it
was just her imagination that his face paled beneath all its tan as he
answered:
"That is very kind of you, Mrs. Lawless. I am afraid I shan't be able
to oblige you though."
She laughed a little.
"It's just prejudice," she declared. "Some marriages must be very
happy, surely?"
"Let us hope so, at any rate," said Feathers dryly, then he smiled. "I
don't think there are many women in the world who would care to
take me for a husband."
"They would if they knew how kind you can be."
Feathers rolled over, resting his elbows on the grass and his chin in
his hands.
"It pleases your ladyship to flatter me," he said.
"I never flatter anyone," Marie answered. "And I wish you would
take me seriously sometimes," she added, a trifle offendedly.
Feathers was absently piling up a little heap of tiny twigs and last
year's leaves.
"I might be rather a monster if I were serious," he said.
Marie shook her head.
"I don't think so! I think I should like you better! Sometimes now
I've got the feeling that you're not really natural with me. No, no, I
don't think I quite mean that either! It's so difficult to explain, but
sometimes it seems as if—almost as if you were—were trying to
keep me at arm's length," she explained haltingly.
"You imagine things," Feathers said.
"I don't think so," she answered quietly. "I know I'm not much of
159a

judge of character or anything like that, but since we've been such
friends I've thought about you a good deal, and——"
"I am indeed honored."
She flushed sensitively.
"There! That's what I mean—when you say things like that! It isn't
really you that's saying it, is it? I mean—you're not saying what you
would really like to say." She laughed nervously. "I explain myself
very badly, don't I? But I know in my heart what I mean, really I
do."
There was a little silence, then Feathers said gently:
"Don't trouble about me, Mrs. Lawless! I'm not at all a mysterious
person, as you seem to be imagining. I'm just an ordinary man—as
selfish as most of 'em, and no better than the worst; but . . . but I'm
very grateful that you've taken me for a friend."
"Chris asked in his last letter if I'd seen you."
"Did he?"
"Yes, he said you had promised to call, but that he did not think you
would. He has told me so often that you don't like women."
"I don't like them."
"Perhaps you haven't met the right sort," she hazarded.
"Or perhaps I have," he answered grimly. He laughed, meeting her
sympathetic eyes. "No! I'm not one of those romantic chaps with a
love story in the past done up with blue ribbons and lavender. If
you're trying to pity me on that score I'm sorry—but I don't deserve
it."
She looked at him steadily.
"Are you laughing at me, Mr. Dakers?" she asked, in a hurt voice.
Feathers' hand fell over hers as it lay half-buried in the soft grass,
and for a moment his fingers closed about it in a grip that hurt; then
he got to his feet.
"Laughing at you! Don't you know me better than that?"
He went over to the car and busied himself at the engine for160a
moment, and Marie watched him, with chagrined eyes.
She liked him so much, but she understood him so little. She rose
reluctantly when presently he called to her that it was time to make
a start. She went over and stood beside him.
"You're not angry with me, are you?" she asked hesitatingly.
She thought at first he had not heard, until he said brusquely:
"I'm never angry with you—only with myself."
He picked up her coat from the grass. "Put this on—you mustn't take
cold."
But he made no attempt to help her into it, and there was a little
hurt look on her face as she turned away.
She was sure that she had somehow annoyed him, but could not
understand in what way. She supposed it must be just her stupidity!
"And where shall we go next time?" she asked, as they neared
London on the way home. "Can't we go out again to-morrow, if you
are not engaged?"
Feathers did not answer at once; then he said rather stiffly: "Chris
may be home."
Marie laughed cynically.
"I don't think that is very likely to happen."
There was a moment's silence, then Feathers said, almost fiercely:
"He ought to come home! It is his duty to come home!"
She did not answer—did not know how to answer. She was
conscious of a little feeling of perplexity, but she asked no more
questions, and when they were home again she held out her hand.
"Good-bye, Mr. Dakers, and thank you so much."
His deep eyes met hers rather defiantly.
"And what about to-morrow?" he asked.
She flushed sensitively.
"I thought you did not care about it," she stammered. "I thought
perhaps you did not want to take me out any more—that there were
other things you would rather do. Oh, I don't want to take up161all
your time."
He answered flintily:
"There is nothing else I would rather do. What time may I call?"
"I promised to go shopping with Aunt Madge in the morning, but
after lunch——" She looked at him hesitatingly.
"I will call at half-past two." he said. "Good-bye, Mrs. Lawless."
He raised his hat and drove away without a backward look, and
Marie went slowly into the house.
Miss Chester was in the drawing-room, patiently knitting as usual.
She looked up with an anxious little smile as the girl entered.
As a rule Marie's first question was, "Any letters for me?" but to- day
she did not ask. She looked a little flushed and preoccupied, and
answered absently when Miss Chester spoke to her.
"Did you have a nice run, dear?"
"Lovely. I think the New Forest is the most beautiful place I have
ever seen."
There was a little silence only broken by the click of the old lady's
knitting needles, then she said quietly:
"I have had a letter from Chris. He is on his way home."
Marie did not answer—her lips had fallen a little apart incredulously.
"He is staying a few days at Windermere with some friends," Miss
Chester went on. "But he is on his way home, and will be here in a
few days."
She looked up at her niece.
"I thought you would be so pleased," she said rather piteously.
"So I am, dear, of course! But—well, he has been coming home
several times before, hasn't he? And we've always been
disappointed."
She went upstairs to her room. Chris was coming home! She looked
at herself in the glass and wondered why there was no radiance in
her eyes. A week ago she had been nearly wild with delight at 162
the
thought of seeing him, but this time somehow it was different.
"I've been disappointed so often, that is it," she thought. "I am not
going to think about it at all."
But she could think of nothing else. Would he have changed? What
would he be like? Had she got to go back to the old weariness and
jealousy when once again she saw him every day? Lately she
seemed to have freed herself a little from the shackles of pain and
she dreaded feeling their merciless grip upon her afresh.
"Perhaps he won't come," was her last thought, as she fell asleep
that night, and for the first time since her marriage she felt that in a
way it would be a relief if something happened again to postpone his
return.
163
 CHAPTER XV
"I sat with Love upon a woodside well.
Leaning across the water, I and he;
Nor ever did he speak, or look at me,
But touched his lute wherein was audible,
The certain secret thing he had to tell."

FEATHERS walked around the following afternoon. "I've left the car
to be tuned up," he explained as he and Marie shook hands. "And
I've got a brilliant idea for to-morrow!" He looked round the room.
"Where is Miss Chester?"
"Lying down. The sun this morning gave her a headache."
"Well, do you care to go on the river to-morrow?"
Marie's eyes sparkled.
"Oh, I should love it! In a punt?"
"We can have a punt, if you like; I'll wire to-day for it, and we can
drive down and take our lunch. Do you know the river?"
She laughed.
"I've seen it at London Bridge and once at Putney—that's all."
"You've never seen Wargrave?"
"No."
"Good! We'll go there——" Feathers hesitated. "Do you think your
aunt would care to come?" He tried to put enthusiasm into the
question, but not very successfully. Marie shook her head.
"I am sure she would not. She does not like the river, and she is
horribly afraid of small boats. She thinks they are bound to upset."
"They are all right if you know how to manage them. It's all fixed up,
then? I'll order the lunch——"
She interrupted quickly: "Oh, I can do that; you don't want to have
164

all the bother."

"It's no bother to me; I was always chief cook and bottle washer
when Chris and I camped out together. As a matter of fact, lunch is
ordered already."
"You were so sure I would come?"
"I hoped you would."
She gave a little sigh of eager anticipation.
"Oh, I should love it."
"Let's hope it will keep fine." Feathers glanced towards the window.
"It looks promising. Wear something that won't spoil—the river ruins
good clothes."
He took up his hat.
"Oh, won't you stay to tea?" Marie asked disappointedly. "It will be
here in a moment."
He hesitated, then sat down again.
"Well—I did not mean to, but as I've been asked——"
Marie laughed.
"Do you always do as you're asked?"
"It depends on who asks me."
She rang the bell for tea.
"And please tell my aunt that Mr. Dakers is here," she said to the
maid.
She was always very punctilious about telling Miss Chester whenever
Feathers called.
"Have you heard from Chris?" Feathers asked suddenly.
"Yes—last night. He is at Windermere—on his way home."
Feathers looked up quickly.
"Then he may be here at any time?"
Marie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't expect him yet," she said in
rather a hard voice. "If he likes Windermere, I dare say he will stay
for a week or so."
There was a little silence.
"Of course if he should turn up to-morrow, our little outing must be
postponed," Feathers said quietly.
Marie did not answer, and he repeated his words.
"Yes, of course," she agreed then.
She looked at him critically. Had he begun to dress better since165he
came back to London? Or was it just that she was getting used to
him, she wondered? She would have been surprised if she had
known the time and trouble Feathers spent on his appearance each
morning before he came to see her, and how he cursed his ugliness
and ungainliness every time he caught sight of himself in a glass.
He turned up in white flannels the following morning, with a light
dust coat and a soft felt hat.
Miss Chester refused to come, as Marie had prophesied.
"I detest the river," she said strenuously, "And after your dreadful
experience, Marie, I wonder you have the pluck to go near water
again."
"I shall be quite safe with Mr. Dakers," Marie answered, "and it's
such a lovely day! Do change your mind and come, dear."
But Miss Chester would not be persuaded.
"And don't be late home," was her last injunction. "I shall be
nervous and unhappy about you till you are safely back again."
"I am going to enjoy myself," Marie said. "I am quite sure we are
going to have a lovely day." She ran upstairs to put on her hat. She
had carried out Feathers' instructions by choosing a white linen frock
and a Panama hat, and white shoes and stockings. She looked very
young and dainty. Feathers thought, as she came running down the
stairs.
"You will want a coat," he said quietly. "It may rain."
"Rain!" she echoed, scornfully. She made a little grimace at him.
"Why, there isn't a cloud in the sky." But she went back obediently
for the coat, and to say good-bye to Miss Chester.
"And, oh, my dear, do be careful!" the old lady urged anxiously.
"Whatever shall I say to Chris if anything happens?"
"Nothing will happen," said Marie, "except that we shall thoroughly
enjoy ourselves."
She shut the drawing-room door behind her, and stopped for a
moment in the hall to peep at herself in the glass. 166

She had not looked so well for a long time. She turned away with a
little sigh of contentment, and at that moment a telegraph boy ran
up the steps to the front door.
Seeing Marie, he did not ring the bell, but handed her the yellow
envelope. It was addressed to "Lawless," and Marie tore it open
apprehensively.
"Home this afternoon—Chris."
Marie's heart gave a great leap, then seemed to stand still.
"No answer," she said mechanically.
She watched the boy go down the steps and mount his bicycle at
the curb, then she read the short message again.
"Home this afternoon—Chris."
This meant that she could not have her day on the river—that she
must tell Feathers she could not go with him.
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