Carrie in her rooms that evening was in a fine glow, physically andmentally. She was deeply rejoicing in her affection for Hurstwood andhis love, and looked forward with fine fancy to their next meetingSunday night. They had agreed, without any feeling of enforced secrecy,that she should come down town and meet him, though, after all, the needof it was the cause.

Mrs. Hale, from her upper window, saw her come in.

"Um," she thought to herself, "she goes riding with another man when herhusband is out of the city. He had better keep an eye on her."

The truth is that Mrs. Hale was not the only one who had a thought onthis score. The house-maid who had welcomed Hurstwood had her opinionalso. She had no particular regard for Carrie, whom she took to be coldand disagreeable. At the same time, she had a fancy for the merry andeasy-mannered Drouet, who threw her a pleasant remark now and then, andin other ways extended her the evidence of that regard which he had forall members of the sex. Hurstwood was more reserved and critical in hismanner. He did not appeal to this bodiced functionary in the samepleasant way. She wondered that he came so frequently, that Mrs. Drouetshould go out with him this afternoon when Mr. Drouet was absent. Shegave vent to her opinions in the kitchen where the cook was. As aresult, a hum of gossip was set going which moved about the house inthat secret manner common to gossip.

Carrie, now that she had yielded sufficiently to Hurstwood to confessher affection, no longer troubled about her attitude towards him.Temporarily she gave little thought to Drouet, thinking only of thedignity and grace of her lover and of his consuming affection for her.On the first evening, she did little but go over the details of theafternoon. It was the first time her sympathies had ever been thoroughlyaroused, and they threw a new light on her character. She had some powerof initiative, latent before, which now began to exert itself. Shelooked more practically upon her state and began to see glimmerings of away out. Hurstwood seemed a drag in the direction of honour. Herfeelings were exceedingly creditable, in that they constructed out ofthese recent developments something which conquered freedom fromdishonour. She had no idea what Hurstwood's next word would be. She onlytook his affection to be a fine thing, and appended better, moregenerous results accordingly.

As yet, Hurstwood had only a thought of pleasure without responsibility.He did not feel that he was doing anything to complicate his life. Hisposition was secure, his home-life, if not satisfactory, was at leastundisturbed, his personal liberty rather untrammelled. Carrie's loverepresented only so much added pleasure. He would enjoy this new giftover and above his ordinary allowance of pleasure. He would be happywith her and his own affairs would go on as they had, undisturbed.

On Sunday evening Carrie dined with him at a place he had selected inEast Adams Street, and thereafter they took a cab to what was then apleasant evening resort out on Cottage Grove Avenue near 39th Street. Inthe process of his declaration he soon realised that Carrie took hislove upon a higher basis than he had anticipated. She kept him at adistance in a rather earnest way, and submitted only to those tendertokens of affection which better become the inexperienced lover.Hurstwood saw that she was not to be possessed for the asking, anddeferred pressing his suit too warmly.

Since he feigned to believe in her married state he found that he had tocarry out the part. His triumph, he saw, was still at a little distance.How far he could not guess.

They were returning to Ogden Place in the cab, when he asked:

"When will I see you again?"

"I don't know," she answered, wondering herself.

"Why not come down to The Fair," he suggested, "next Tuesday?"

She shook her head.

"Not so soon," she answered.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he added. "I'll write you, care of thisWest Side Post-office. Could you call next Tuesday?"

Carrie assented.

The cab stopped one door out of the way according to his call.

"Good-night," he whispered, as the cab rolled away.

Unfortunately for the smooth progression of this affair, Drouetreturned. Hurstwood was sitting in his imposing little office the nextafternoon when he saw Drouet enter.

"Why, hello, Charles," he called affably; "back again?"

"Yes," smiled Drouet, approaching and looking in at the door.

Hurstwood arose.

"Well," he said, looking the drummer over, "rosy as ever, eh?"

They began talking of the people they knew and things that had happened.

"Been home yet?" finally asked Hurstwood.

"No, I am going, though," said Drouet.

"I remembered the little girl out there," said Hurstwood, "and calledonce. Thought you wouldn't want her left quite alone."

"Right you are," agreed Drouet. "How is she?"

"Very well," said Hurstwood. "Rather anxious about you, though. You'dbetter go out now and cheer her up."

"I will," said Drouet, smilingly.

"Like to have you both come down and go to the show with me Wednesday,"concluded Hurstwood at parting.

"Thanks, old man," said his friend, "I'll see what the girl says and letyou know."

They separated in the most cordial manner.

"There's a nice fellow," Drouet thought to himself as he turned thecorner towards Madison.

"Drouet is a good fellow," Hurstwood thought to himself as he went backinto his office, "but he's no man for Carrie."

The thought of the latter turned his mind into a most pleasant vein, andhe wondered how he would get ahead of the drummer.

When Drouet entered Carrie's presence, he caught her in his arms asusual, but she responded to his kiss with a tremour of opposition.

"Well," he said, "I had a great trip."

"Did you? How did you come out with that La Crosse man you were tellingme about?"

"Oh, fine; sold him a complete line. There was another fellow there,representing Burnstein, a regular hook-nosed sheeny, but he wasn't init. I made him look like nothing at all."

As he undid his collar and unfastened his studs, preparatory to washinghis face and changing his clothes, he dilated upon his trip. Carriecould not help listening with amusement to his animated descriptions.

"I tell you," he said, "I surprised the people at the office. I've soldmore goods this last quarter than any other man of our house on theroad. I sold three thousand dollars' worth in La Crosse."

He plunged his face in a basin of water, and puffed and blew as herubbed his neck and ears with his hands, while Carrie gazed upon himwith mingled thoughts of recollection and present judgment. He was stillwiping his face, when he continued:

"I'm going to strike for a raise in June. They can afford to pay it, asmuch business as I turn in. I'll get it too, don't you forget."

"I hope you do," said Carrie.

"And then if that little real estate deal I've got on goes through,we'll get married," he said with a great show of earnestness, the whilehe took his place before the mirror and began brushing his hair.

"I don't believe you ever intend to marry me, Charlie," Carrie saidruefully. The recent protestations of Hurstwood had given her courage tosay this.

"Oh, yes I do--course I do--what put that into your head?"

He had stopped his trifling before the mirror now and crossed over toher. For the first time Carrie felt as if she must move away from him.

"But you've been saying that so long," she said, looking with her prettyface upturned into his.

"Well, and I mean it too, but it takes money to live as I want to. Now,when I get this increase, I can come pretty near fixing things allright, and I'll do it. Now, don't you worry, girlie."

He patted her reassuringly upon the shoulder, but Carrie felt how reallyfutile had been her hopes. She could clearly see that this easy-goingsoul intended no move in her behalf. He was simply letting things driftbecause he preferred the free round of his present state to any legaltrammellings.

In contrast, Hurstwood appeared strong and sincere. He had no easymanner of putting her off. He sympathised with her and showed her whather true value was. He needed her, while Drouet did not care.

"Oh, no," she said remorsefully, her tone reflecting some of her ownsuccess and more of her helplessness, "you never will."

"Well, you wait a little while and see," he concluded. "I'll marry youall right."

Carrie looked at him and felt justified. She was looking for somethingwhich would calm her conscience, and here it was, a light, airydisregard of her claims upon his justice. He had faithfully promised tomarry her, and this was the way he fulfilled his promise.

"Say," he said, after he had, as he thought, pleasantly disposed of themarriage question, "I saw Hurstwood to-day, and he wants us to go to thetheatre with him."

Carrie started at the name, but recovered quickly enough to avoidnotice.

"When?" she asked, with assumed indifference.

"Wednesday. We'll go, won't we?"

"If you think so," she answered, her manner being so enforcedly reservedas to almost excite suspicion. Drouet noticed something, but he thoughtit was due to her feelings concerning their talk about marriage.

"He called once, he said."

"Yes," said Carrie, "he was out here Sunday evening."

"Was he?" said Drouet. "I thought from what he said that he had called aweek or so ago."

"So he did," answered Carrie, who was wholly unaware of whatconversation her lovers might have held. She was all at sea mentally,and fearful of some entanglement which might ensue from what she wouldanswer.

"Oh, then he called twice?" said Drouet, the first shade ofmisunderstanding showing in his face.

"Yes," said Carrie innocently, feeling now that Hurstwood must havementioned but one call.

Drouet imagined that he must have misunderstood his friend. He did notattach particular importance to the information, after all.

"What did he have to say?" he queried, with slightly increasedcuriosity.

"He said he came because he thought I might be lonely. You hadn't beenin there so long he wondered what had become of you."

"George is a fine fellow," said Drouet, rather gratified by hisconception of the manager's interest. "Come on and we'll go out todinner."

When Hurstwood saw that Drouet was back he wrote at once to Carrie,saying:

"I told him I called on you, dearest, when he was away. I did not sayhow often, but he probably thought once. Let me know of anything you mayhave said. Answer by special messenger when you get this, and, darling,I must see you. Let me know if you can't meet me at Jackson and ThroopStreets Wednesday afternoon at two o'clock. I want to speak with youbefore we meet at the theatre."

Carrie received this Tuesday morning when she called at the West Sidebranch of the post-office, and answered at once.

"I said you called twice," she wrote. "He didn't seem to mind. I willtry and be at Throop Street if nothing interferes. I seem to be gettingvery bad. It's wrong to act as I do, I know."

Hurstwood, when he met her as agreed, reassured her on this score.

"You mustn't worry, sweetheart," he said. "Just as soon as he goes onthe road again we will arrange something. We'll fix it so that you won'thave to deceive any one."

Carrie imagined that he would marry her at once, though he had notdirectly said so, and her spirits rose. She proposed to make the best ofthe situation until Drouet left again.

"Don't show any more interest in me than you ever have," Hurstwoodcounselled concerning the evening at the theatre.

"You mustn't look at me steadily then," she answered, mindful of thepower of his eyes.

"I won't," he said, squeezing her hand at parting and giving the glanceshe had just cautioned against.

"There," she said playfully, pointing a finger at him.

"The show hasn't begun yet," he returned.

He watched her walk from him with tender solicitation. Such youth andprettiness reacted upon him more subtly than wine.

At the theatre things passed as they had in Hurstwood's favour. If hehad been pleasing to Carrie before, how much more so was he now. Hisgrace was more permeating because it found a readier medium. Carriewatched his every movement with pleasure. She almost forgot poor Drouet,who babbled on as if he were the host.

Hurstwood was too clever to give the slightest indication of a change.He paid, if anything, more attention to his old friend than usual, andyet in no way held him up to that subtle ridicule which a lover infavour may so secretly practise before the mistress of his heart. Ifanything, he felt the injustice of the game as it stood, and was notcheap enough to add to it the slightest mental taunt.

Only the play produced an ironical situation, and this was due to Drouetalone.

The scene was one in "The Covenant," in which the wife listened to theseductive voice of a lover in the absence of her husband.

"Served him right," said Drouet afterward, even in view of her keenexpiation of her error. "I haven't any pity for a man who would be sucha chump as that."

"Well, you never can tell," returned Hurstwood gently. "He probablythought he was right."

"Well, a man ought to be more attentive than that to his wife if hewants to keep her."

They had come out of the lobby and made their way through the showycrush about the entrance way.

"Say, mister," said a voice at Hurstwood's side, "would you mind givingme the price of a bed?"

Hurstwood was interestedly remarking to Carrie.

"Honest to God, mister, I'm without a place to sleep."

The plea was that of a gaunt-faced man of about thirty, who looked thepicture of privation and wretchedness. Drouet was the first to see. Hehanded over a dime with an upwelling feeling of pity in his heart.Hurstwood scarcely noticed the incident. Carrie quickly forgot.