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Web Application Development with R Using Shiny Beeley
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Beeley, Chris
ISBN(s): 9781783284474, 1783284471
Edition: Illustrated
File Details: PDF, 8.47 MB
Year: 2013
Language: english
Web Application Development
with R Using Shiny

Harness the graphical and statistical power of R and

rapidly develop interactive user interfaces using the
superb Shiny package

Chris Beeley

BIRMINGHAM - MUMBAI
Web Application Development with R Using Shiny

Copyright © 2013 Packt Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written
permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in
critical articles or reviews.

Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure the accuracy
of the information presented. However, the information contained in this book is
sold without warranty, either express or implied. Neither the author, nor Packt
Publishing, and its dealers and distributors will be held liable for any damages
caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by this book.

Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information about all of the
companies and products mentioned in this book by the appropriate use of capitals.
However, Packt Publishing cannot guarantee the accuracy of this information.

First published: October 2013

Production Reference: 1151013

Published by Packt Publishing Ltd.

Livery Place
35 Livery Street
Birmingham B3 2PB, UK.

ISBN 978-1-78328-447-4

www.packtpub.com

Cover Image by Suresh Mogre ([email protected])

 Credits

Author Project Coordinator

Chris Beeley Suraj Bist

Proofreader
Reviewers
Joanna McMahon
Neependra Khare
Ram Narasimhan
Indexers
Hernán G. Resnizky
Monica Ajmera Mehta

Acquisition Editor Tejal R. Soni

Kevin Colaco
Production Coordinator
Commissioning Editor Prachali Bhiwandkar
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Cover Work
Technical Editors Prachali Bhiwandkar
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 About the Author

Chris Beeley is an Applied Researcher working in healthcare in the UK. He

completed his PhD in Psychology at the University of Nottingham in 2009 and now
works with Nottinghamshire Healthcare NHS Trust providing statistical analysis
and other types of evaluation and reporting using routine data generated within
the Trust. Chris has a special interest in the use of regression methods in applied
healthcare settings, particularly forensic psychiatric settings, as well as in the
collection, analysis, and reporting of patient feedback data.

Chris has been a keen user of R and a passionate advocate of open-source tools
within research and healthcare settings since completing his PhD. He has made
extensive use of R (and Shiny) to automate analysis and reporting for new patient
feedback websites. This was funded by a grant from the NHS Institute for Innovation
and made in collaboration with staff, service users, and carers within the Trust,
particularly individuals from the Involvement Center.
 Acknowledgement
I would like to thank all the staff, service users, and carers at the Involvement Center
in Nottinghamshire Healthcare NHS Trust, not only for welcoming me and believing
in me but also for making my work meaningful. Helping to better understand and
communicate with our service users and carers is the reason why I get out of bed in
the morning and work long hours on the website. The book was made much easier
with the thought that it might help transform healthcare for everyone's benefit.

I'd like to give a massive thank you to the whole R world, the R core team, the people
at RStudio, Joe Cheng, Winston Chang, Hadley Wickham (what was life like before
ggplot2?) and all the people I've had so much help from over the years, on mailing
lists, forums, blog posts, and wherever else I've found you. Everyone who believes in
free and open source believes that by cooperating and sharing we can build a better
world, and this is a profound message not just in the world of software, but globally
everywhere. I could never hope to give back as much to this community as I've taken
already, but I promise to try.

I would also like to thank my wife and son who helped me remember that there's
more to life than coding and work, and are, in general, the complete opposite of
writing a book about an R package.
 About the Reviewers

Neependra Khare has around 9 years of experience in the IT industry. He has

worked as a SysAdmin, support engineer, and a filesystem developer. Currently
he is working with Red Hat as Principal Software Engineer.

As a data enthusiast, he uses R and Shiny to do the analysis and publish

visualizations. More can be found out about him on his website at
www.neependra.net.

Ram Narasimhan works in the Data Science group at GE Global Research. He

has worked in applied data analysis for over 15 years, including working as a
data consultant in multiple verticals (transportation, manufacturing, and supply
chain) where his tools of choice were Python and R. He created and managed a
data analytics team for United Airlines in Chicago. He has a Master's in Industrial
Engineering and a Doctorate in Operations Research.

Hernán G. Resnizky is an experienced Sociologist and Data Analyst with a

Masters degree in Data Mining from the University of Buenos Aires. He currently
works for Despegar.com, the leading online tourism agency in Latin America,
and has previously worked for other top-level companies, such as Microsoft and
Ipsos. Currently, Hernán is focused on working with R, covering not only the Data
Analysis stage but also Data Extraction, Processing, and Visualization. In his blog,
www.hernanresnizky.com (also known as My Data Atelier), you can find commented
material regarding R and Data Analysis in general.
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I would like to dedicate this book to my dad who always believed in me.
I hope I'm still making him proud.
 Table of Contents
Preface 1
Chapter 1: Installing R and Shiny and Getting Started! 5
Installing R 6
The R console 6
Code editors and IDEs 7
Simple and well-featured 7
Complex and extensible 8
Learning R 8
Getting help 8
Loading data 9
Dataframes, lists, arrays, and matrices 10
Variable types 12
Functions 13
Objects 13
Base graphics and ggplot2 14
Bar chart 14
Line chart 15
Installing Shiny and running the examples 17
Summary 19
Chapter 2: Building Your First Application 21
Program structure 21
ui.R of minimal example 22
server.R of minimal example 24
Optional exercise 25
Widget types 26
Google Analytics application 28
The UI 28
Data processing 32
Table of Contents

Reactive objects 33
Outputs 35
A note on the application code 38
Optional exercise 38
Summary 39
Chapter 3: Building Your Own Web Pages with Shiny 41
Running the applications and code 41
Shiny and HTML 42
Custom HTML links in Shiny 42
ui.R 42
server.R 44
server.R – data preparation 44
server.R – server definition 46
Minimal HTML interface 47
index.html 48
server.R 50
JavaScript and Shiny 52
ui.R 52
server.R 54
jQuery 56
index.html – body 56
server.R 57
jQuery 58
Exercise 60
Summary 61
Chapter 4: Taking Control of Reactivity, Inputs, and Outputs 63
Showing and hiding elements of the UI 64
Giving names to tabPanel elements 64
Reactive user interfaces 67
Reactive user interface example – server.R 68
Reactive user interface example – ui.R 68
Advanced reactivity 68
Using reactive objects and functions efficiently 69
Controlling the whole interface with the submitButton() function 70
Controlling specific inputs with the isolate() function 70
Running reactive functions over time 72
More advanced topics in Shiny 73
Finely controlling inputs and outputs 74
Reading client information and GET requests in Shiny 75
Custom interfaces from GET strings 76

[ ii ]
 Table of Contents

Animation 78
Advanced graphics options 79
Downloading graphics 80
Downloading and uploading data 81
Summary 82
Chapter 5: Running and Sharing Your Creations 83
Sharing with the R community 83
Sharing over GitHub 84
Introduction to Git 84
Sharing applications using Git 84
Sharing using .zip and .tar 85
Sharing with the world 86
Glimmer 86
Shiny Server 86
Browser compatibility 87
Summary 87
Index 89

[ iii ]
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
remarks concerning daily events, and, to all outward appearances,
were the same to one another as they had ever been; but it was far
from being the case, for the confidence of the father in the daughter,
of the daughter in the father, had entirely disappeared, and they
regarded one another with mutual distrust.

It was certainly a very unhappy state of things, and was entirely due
to the peculiar views held by Sir Rupert, regarding his bearing
towards his womankind. Had he interviewed Maxwell personally, and
judged for himself as to his fitness to become the husband of his
daughter--had he spoken of the matter to Kaituna in a kindly
manner--had he made some allowance for the mutual love of these
young people, who had set aside conventional observations, things
might have been better. But, by ordering his daughter to give up her
lover, as he had formerly ordered his high-spirited wife to give up
her friend, he committed a fatal mistake, and as he had reaped the
consequences of such high-handed proceedings before by losing his
wife, it seemed as though history would repeat itself, and he would
lose his daughter. Had he shown Kaituna the folly of a hasty love
match, had he entreated her for her own sake to be cautious, had
he requested her to consider her determination--but to order, ah,
that was the mistake he made.

Curiously enough, he never saw this. In all things he demanded an

absolute and unquestioning obedience from his household, so it
never for a moment struck him that the girl would dare to defy his
authority. Yet it was so; for in place of making her obedient, Sir
Rupert's blundering conduct had made her crafty, and she made up
her mind that she would never give up her lover.

Tommy Valpy stood her friend, and Kaituna met Archie at her house,
where they parted with many promises of remaining true to one
another. Then Kaituna returned to Thornstream, and resumed her
mask of politeness; while Sir Rupert, thinking she had obeyed him,
and given up her undesirable lover, was to a certain extent content,
although still suspicious of her apparent acquiescence in his wish.
Things were in this state when Mrs. Belswin arrived. On leaving the
railway station, after her interview with Maxwell, she had met Belk,
but did not stop to speak to him, being afraid of Ferrari's jealousy. In
this she was quite right, for Belk, seeing her driving past with a
stranger, scowled savagely as he took off his hat; while Ferrari,
noting the good looks of the young man, and seeing the scowl
directed to himself, guessed directly that this was the rival
mentioned by Mrs. Belswin.

"Mia cara," he said, artfully, as they drove on to Deswarth, "that

handsome gentleman who made the bow--is it your friend?"

"Friend," echoed Mrs. Belswin, carelessly--"oh, I've so many friends."

"Is it--" began Stephano, when Mrs. Belswin turned furiously upon
him.

"Don't worry me, Stephano; don't you see I'm busy. Is that the man
I mentioned to you?--yes, it is. You see he is stronger than you, so
don't fight him unless you like. I don't care a morsel for either of
you. All I want is to stay by my child; and as you can't help me, you
coward, don't worry me with silly questions."

Ferrari said no more, but made up his mind to seek an interview

with the good-looking stranger, and find out whether Mrs. Belswin
regarded him with favour.

On arriving at Deswarth, which was a short distance from

Thornstream, Mrs. Belswin put the Italian down at "The Chequers
Inn," told him to wait there in concealment until she saw him again,
and then drove to the Hall.

Being determined not to see Sir Rupert until after dinner, in order to
discover in the meantime how the land lay, she went up to her own
room and sent for Kaituna, who was delighted to see her.
"Now you are here," said the girl kissing her friend, "you may
perhaps induce papa to let me marry Archie. You know----"

"I know all about it, my dear," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a maternal
air; "Mr. Maxwell met me at the railway station, and put me in full
possession of all the facts."

"And do you think papa will let me marry him?" asked Kaituna,
timidly.

"I really cannot tell, dear, until I see your papa."

"At dinner?"

"No-o," responded Mrs. Belswin, doubtfully; "I'm tired after my

journey, so I'll have my dinner here. Afterwards I will ask for an
interview with Sir Rupert, so you and your papa can dine tête-à-
tête."

"No, I'm sure we can't," said Kaituna, in rather a tone of relief; "Mr.
Dombrain is here."

Mrs. Belswin faced round rapidly.

"Dombrain!" she echoed aghast. "Your father's solicitor."

"Yes."

"Now what does he want here, I wonder?" muttered Mrs. Belswin,

more to herself than to her auditor.

"He came down to make papa's will, I think," said Kaituna.

"His will!" echoed Mrs. Belswin, struck with a sudden thought.

"Kaituna, if your father dies, will he leave you well off?"

"Oh, I don't want papa to die."

"No, no! of course not," said her companion impatiently; "but one
never knows what might happen. But suppose he did die, you would
be an heiress no doubt."

Kaituna shook her head.

"I don't think so," she replied, slowly. "You see, Thornstream is
entailed on the male side, and none of it comes to me."

"But your father was well enough off in New Zealand."

"Why, how do you know that?"

"I don't know, dear," answered Mrs. Belswin hurriedly, seeing she
had made a slip; "I only presume so."

"He used to be well off, but he lost a lot of money lately, and this
time when he went out he sold all his property."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Belswin, drawing a long breath of relief, "then he will
have a large sum of money in hand."

"No, indeed! He has put it all into silver mining shares in Melbourne."

"The fool!" muttered Mrs. Belswin, below her breath, "to risk his all
in such security."

"So you see, dear Mrs. Belswin," said Kaituna, pursuing her own
train of thought, "that if Archie wants to marry me for my money, I
shall not have any."

Mrs. Belswin caught the girl in her arms and kissed her with rare
tenderness.

"My dear," she said kindly, smoothing the dark hair, "Archie loves you
for yourself, not for your money. Now go downstairs, dear, and
excuse me to your father."
"And you will see him to-night about Archie?"

Mrs. Belswin gasped in a somewhat hysterical manner, and caught at

the mantelpiece for support, as she repeated the words.

"I will see him to-night--about--about--Archie."

Kaituna was satisfied and departed, but when the door was closed
after her, Mrs. Belswin rushed madly across the room, and, flinging
herself on her knees before the door, burst out into a terrible fit of
crying.

"Oh, my dear! my dear!" she wailed, in a low moaning manner,

"what can I do? what can I do? If your father dies you will be left
penniless; if he lives I shall have to leave you forever--for ever, my
dear--and go away into the outer darkness. Oh, God! God! is there
nothing I can do?"

She looked up at the painted ceiling, as if expecting an answer, but

none came; so, rising wearily to her feet, she locked the door, and
dragged herself slowly towards the mirror.

"What an old, old woman I look," she muttered, peering into the
glass. "Grey hairs in the black; wrinkles in the smooth face. I wonder
if he will recognise me. Surely not! Twenty years make a great
difference. I will see him now in another two hours. He never
dreams I am under the same roof, unless Dombrain----"

She started, drew herself up to her full height, and clenched her
hands.

"Dombrain!" she said again. "Can he have revealed anything to

Rupert? I know he hates me, and would do me an injury if he dared.
But he cannot. No! I hold his secret; while I do that mine is safe
with him. Oh! how ill I feel, but I must not faint, I must not quail. I
must be brave--brave for my child's sake."
She bathed her face in cold water, took a small liqueur glass of
brandy, which she produced from the dressing-bag, and then went
to lie down for a time before facing her husband.

"To-night," she murmured, as her head sank on the pillows. "To-

night, Rupert Pethram, we measure swords. Let us see who will win.
You or I!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

FACE TO FACE.

"Oh, I was the husband and you were the wife;

We met, and we married, and parted.
Our meeting was happy, our marriage was strife:
Our parting left each broken-hearted.
Our hearts are now cured of their anguish and shame;
We've learned each our lesson of sorrow;
'Tis folly to need the same lesson again,
And so I will bid you 'good-morrow.'"

Sir Rupert's study, which was one of the most comfortable

apartments in the house, was placed in the east angle of the
building, so that two of the walls were formed by the outside of the
house. It was lighted by four French windows, two of which were
generally open in fine weather, looking out on to the terrace.

It was furnished in a heavy, stately fashion, with cumbersome oaken

furniture, upholstered in green morocco, and the walls, hung with
velvety dark-green paper, were surrounded with low oaken
bookcases, the height of a man, filled with well-selected volumes.
On top of these cases were placed choice specimens of ceramic art,
consisting of red Egyptian water-jars, delicate figures in Dresden
china, and huge bowls of porcelain, bizarre with red and blue
dragons. Interspersed with these, quaint effigies of squat Hindoo
idols, grotesque bronze gods from Japan, and hideous fetishes from
Central Africa.

Dainty water-colour pictures in slender gilt frames lightened the

sombre tints of the walls, and between these were highly polished
steel battle-axes, old-fashioned guns, delicate but deadly pistols of
modern workmanship, and dangerous-looking swords, all arranged
in symmetrical patterns. The floor of polished oak was covered with
buffalo skins from American prairies, opossum rugs from Australian
plains, striped tiger-skins from Indian jungles, and white bear-skins
from the cold north; while in the centre of the room stood the desk,
piled with books and loose papers. The whole room had a
workmanlike appearance and an air of literary comfort eminently
attractive to a bookish man.

On this night the two French windows were wide open, and into the
room floated the rich perfumes of the flowers, broken by the
pungent smell of a cigar which Sir Rupert was smoking as he sat
writing at his desk. At his feet on either side were heavy books,
carelessly thrown down after use, and scattered sheets of paper,
while amid the confused mass on the desk itself was the red
blotting-pad and the white note-paper on which he was writing.
There was a lamp on his left, from beneath the green shade of
which welled a flood of heavy yellow light--so heavy that it seemed
to rest sluggishly on the floor and be unable to rise to the ceiling,
where the shade made a dark circle.

Within--the yellow lighted room, the silent man writing rapidly, the
steady ticking of the clock, and the acrid tobacco scent. Without--the
close night, moonless and starless, the air drowsy with heat, the
faint flower-odours, and the sombre masses of the trees sleeping
dully under the soporific influence of the atmosphere.
There was something weird in the uncanny stillness of the night, a
kind of premonition of coming woe, which would have certainly
affected the nerves of a highly-strung man; but Sir Rupert did not
believe in nerves, and wrote on carelessly without giving a thought
to the strange prophetic feeling in the air.

If he had only known he would have fallen on his knees and prayed
for the protection of his guardian angel until the red dawn broke
through the dread shadows of the fatal night.

The rapid scratching of the pen, the sharp peremptory tick of the
clock, and suddenly a distinct knock at the door. Sir Rupert raised his
head with an expectant look on his face.

"Come in!"

A woman entered, tall and stately, arrayed in sombre garments; she

entered slowly, with a faltering step, and paused in the shadow
before the desk. Sir Rupert, his eyes dazzled by the glare of the
lamp, could see her face but indistinctly in the semi-twilight, and
only heard her short hurried breathing, which betokened great
agitation.

"Mrs. Belswin, is it not?"

The woman placed one hand on her throat, as if striving to keep

down an attack of hysteria, and answered in a low, choked voice--

"Yes!"

"I beg your pardon, I did not hear what you said, madam."

"I--I am Mrs. Belswin."

Sir Rupert started, and passed his hand across his face with a
confused sense of memory, but, dismissing the sudden flash of
thought, he arose to his feet, and pointed politely to a chair.
"Will you not be seated, Mrs. Belswin?"

She was foolish to betray her identity, but whether it was that her
resolution failed her, or that her nerve gave way, or that she
determined to forestall discovery, with an appealing cry she fell on
her knees.

"Rupert!"

"God!"

He tore the shade off the lamp. The heavy, concentrated, yellow
light spread through the room in clear waves of brilliance, and there
on the floor, with wild, white face, with outstretched, appealing
hands, with the agony of despair in her eyes, he saw his divorced
wife.

"Rupert!"

Step by step he retreated before the kneeling figure, with startled

eyes and dry lips, until he leant against the wall, and thrust out cruel
hands to keep off this spectre of the past.

"You!"

"Yes. I--your wife!"

"My wife!"

He burst out into a discordant laugh, on which, like a wounded

snake, she dragged herself painfully along the floor until she reached
his feet.

"Keep off," he whispered, in a hoarse voice; "keep off, you

shameless creature!"

"But hear me."

"Hear you!--hear you!" said Sir Rupert, in a tone of concentrated
scorn. "I heard you twenty years ago. The law heard you; the world
heard you. What can you say to me now that I did not hear then?"

"Pity me. Oh, Rupert, pity me!"

"Pity you! You that had no pity on me! You that ruined my life--that
blasted my name--that made my home desolate! Pity you! I am not
an angel! I am a man."

The woman twisted her hands together, and burst out crying into
floods of hot bitter tears that burned and seared her cheeks--those
cheeks that burned with shame at the righteous scorn of the man
who had trusted her and whom she had wronged.

"What are you doing here?" said Pethram, harshly. "Rise and answer
me. Don't lie grovelling there with your crocodile tears."

"Have you no mercy?"

"None for such as you."

At these cruel words she arose to her feet with an effort and leaned
heavily against the wall, while her husband took his seat in stern
anger, as if she were a criminal brought before him for sentence.

"You are Mrs. Belswin?"

"Yes."

"My daughter's companion?"

"She is mine as well as yours."

"Silence!" he said, sternly. "Do not dare to claim the child which you
left so cruelly twenty years ago. Have you no shame?"
"Shame!" she replied bitterly. "Yes, I have shame. I know what
shame is--twenty years of bitter, cruel shame. God of mercy, twenty
years!"

"Twenty thousand years would not be too much for your sin."

"Are you so pure yourself that you can judge me so harshly?"

"I am not here to argue such a question," he said, coldly, with a

cruel look in his eyes. "I want to know what you are doing here."

"I came as a companion to my daughter."

"And you told her----"

"I told her nothing," said Mrs. Belswin, vehemently. "So help me,
Heaven! she knows nothing. I am her companion, her paid
companion--nothing more."

"I am glad you have had the sense to spare my daughter the story
of your shame. How did you obtain the situation?"

"It was advertised, and I got it through Dombrain."

"Did he know who you were?"

"How could he? Do you think all the world knows the story of my
folly?"

"Your folly!" he repeated, with deep scorn; "your sin you mean.
Dombrain was a long time in New Zealand; he must have heard of
the case."

"If he did he never saw me. He did not recognise me."

Sir Rupert looked at her doubtfully, as if he would drag the truth

from her unwilling lips. She stood before him white, silent, defiant,
and he arose slowly to his feet.
"Twenty years ago," he said, coldly, "the law gave me my freedom
from you, and I thought never to see you again. Like a thief you
have entered my house during my absence. You have dared to
contaminate with your presence my child--yes, my child, not yours.
She ceased to be yours when you forsook her. How you obtained
this entrance I will make it my business to find out; but now that I
know that Mrs. Belswin is my divorced wife, I order her to leave my
house at once. Go!"

She uttered a piteous cry, and stretched out her hands towards him
in an agony of despair.

"No, no! you cannot be so cruel."

"I am not cruel. By your own act you forfeited your right to remain
under my roof."

"But my child."

"Your child! Ah, you remember her now, after deserting her for
twenty years! Do you think I will permit you to contaminate her
young life by your presence? Do you think that I can see you day
after day and not remember what you were, and see what you are?"

His wife cowered before his vehemence, and, covering her face with
her hands, shrank against the wall.

"Rupert!" she said, in a low pleading voice, "do not be so harsh with
me. If I have sinned I have suffered for my sin. For twenty years I
have longed for a sight of my child, but until now I dared not see
her. Chance sent you away and gave me an opportunity of living
with her as a companion. She does not know who I am. She will
never know who I am, and as her paid companion she loves me! Let
me stay beside her and have some happiness in my wretched life."

"No; I will not! I wonder you dare ask me."

"I dare anything for my child."

"It is too late to talk like that--twenty years too late."

"You will let me stay. Oh, Rupert, let me stay."

"No!"

"For God's sake."

"No! No!"

"Reflect! Some day you may need mercy. How can you expect it if
you deny it to me?"

"You have heard my determination. Go!"

"Now?"

"At this moment."

"You would turn me out of your house like a dog?"

"I would, and I do! It is all that you deserve at my hands."

"Is there no mercy?"

"None--from me. Go!"

"I will not go," cried Mrs. Belswin, in despair. "I will not go, I tell
you."

Sir Rupert advanced towards the bell rope.

"Then I will order my servants to turn you out."

"But, Rupert, think. Kaituna will learn who I am."

"Better that than she should be contaminated by your presence."

The woman clasped her hands together, and then in a frenzy of rage
dashed across the room to pull him away from the bell-rope.

"You shall not! you shall not!" she shrieked, her fierce eyes flashing
with mad anger. "I will stay! I am a reckless woman! I love my child!
I will not go!"

"I have the power to make you go, and I will," said Pethram, coldly.

"Are you a man or a devil?"

"I am what you have made me."

"What I made you!" she hissed, in a voice shaking with bitter scorn.
"No! it is you who have made me what I am. I loved you when I
married you. As there is a God above, I loved you; but with your
cold, cruel words, with your sarcastic sneers, with your neglect you
killed that love. I had no friend. I was only a girl, and you crushed
my heart. I was dying for the love and tenderness which you refused
to give me."

"I was a good husband."

"As the world says, 'A good husband.' You gave me a good home.
You surrounded me with every comfort. To all outward appearance, I
had nothing left to desire. Ah, how little you, with your cold, cruel
nature, know what a woman wants. I desired love! I desired
tenderness, but I did not get it. Oates was kind to me. He cheered
my loneliness, and in a moment of madness I went with him. I
regretted it the moment afterwards. I have regretted it ever since.
God knows how miserable my life has been. Now I have a chance of
happiness, I will take advantage of it. I will stay with my child; you
can do what you like, you can say what you like--I stay."

Without changing a muscle of his face, Sir Rupert heard his

miserable wife to the end, then advanced once more to the bell.
"You have said all; now go, or I will have you turned out."

Mrs. Belswin laughed scornfully.

"Do what you like," she said, indifferently. "You have said what you
will do; I have said what I will do."

For the first time Sir Rupert hesitated, and let his hand fall without
ringing the bell.

"You fiend!" he said, in a cold fury. "Having made my life miserable

before, you now come to do so again. But I knew I was never safe
from your malice. Dombrain, to whom I told all your vile conduct,
said you would come again."

"He said that? Dombrain said that?"

"Yes."

"And he is a fit judge of my conduct!" she burst out in passionate

anger. "Do you know who he is? Do you know what he was? A
convict--an embezzler--a man who has served his term in prison."

"My solicitor--Mr. Dombrain?" he said, incredulously.

"Mr. Dombrain!" she scoffed, sneeringly. "Mr. Damberton is his real

name, and it was by knowing what he was and what he is, that I
forced him to receive me as your daughter's companion. I would
have spared him had he spared me, but now--well, you know the
worst of him."

"Yes, and I know the worst of you," he said, fiercely. "Oh, you played
your cards well. But I will turn you out of my house, and to-morrow
I will expose Dombrain or Damberton's real position to all the
world."

"You can do what you like about him, but I stay here."
"You go, and at once."

"I will not," she said, desperately.

"Then I will shame you in the eyes of your own child," he replied,
resolutely, seizing the bell rope.

"No, no! not that!"

"I say I will. Either you go at once, or I call in Kaituna and tell her
who and what you are."

Mrs. Belswin writhed in anguish.

"Oh, I could not bear that! My own child! Pity, pity!"

"Will you go?"

"Pity! pity!"

"Will you go?"

"Yes, yes! My own child! I will go. Yes, don't ring the bell; I will go
now. But do not tell her--oh, Rupert, do not tell her!"

"I will tell nothing if you leave this house at once."

She dragged herself slowly towards the window, conscious that she
was beaten. Firm on every point, reckless to the verge of despair,
the thought that her own child should know her shame was too
much even for her.

"Oh, God! is there no mercy?"

"None! Go!"

On the threshold of the window she stood, with her tall form drawn
up to its full height, and her fierce eyes flashing with rage.
"You part the mother and the child. You drive me out of your house
like a dog. But remember with whom you have to deal. To-night it is
your turn; to-morrow it will be mine."

He looked at her with a scornful smile, and in a moment she was

swallowed up by the darkness of the night, from whence she had
emerged like a spectre of the past.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE OUTER DARKNESS.

"I stand outside in the bitter night,

And beat at the fast-closed door;
'Oh, let me in to the kindly light,
Give back to me days of yore.'
But an angel says, with a frowning brow,
'The past can no power restore,
You must dwell in the outer darkness now
For ever and ever more.'"

Through the warm summer night, her heart filled with rage,
humiliation, and despair, fled the unhappy woman, whither she knew
not. All she wanted was to escape from Thornstream, lest her
husband, seeing her by chance, should break his word and tell
Kaituna what she was. If he did so--oh, the horror of it for her
daughter to know that the mother whose memory she reverenced
was alive, and an unhappy, fallen creature! A thousand fiends
seemed to shriek in her ears as she ran onward, and it was only
when she came against the trunk of a tree and fell half-stunned on
the cool grass that she stopped in her mad career.
How cool was the delicate touch of the grass, how sweet the
perfume of the flowers. She buried her hot face among the
primroses, and pressed her aching breast against the chill bosom of
the earth to still the agonised throbbing of her heart.

Under the great tree she lay in an exhausted condition, thinking of

her failure to conciliate Pethram, of the past with all its follies, of the
present with its pain, and the future which looked so hopeless and
dreary.

It was all over. She had staked everything on the casting of a die,
and lost. Her husband had driven her away from the house, from her
child, and there was nothing left for her to do but to return to
London with Ferrari and marry him at once. Never again would she
live with her child. She might see her--yes; but without being seen--
for she knew that if she spoke again to Kaituna everything would be
revealed by Rupert Pethram. To destroy that beautiful memory of,
motherhood, which was the chief treasure of Kaituna's life--to show
herself in her true colours as a fallen and wretched woman--no, she
could not do that; better exile, better wretchedness, better death
than the terrible truth.

With a groan she sat up among the soft grass, her hands lying idly
on her lap, her wild face raised to the lonely sky. Yes, lonely, for
above there was nothing but clouds, black heavy clouds, as gloomy
as her own future. Oh, God! was there no hope? Was there----

Stay! the clouds part, rolling heavily to the westward, revealing a

glimpse of dark blue sky, and set therein like a diamond, the
glimmer of a star. Hope! yes, it was a sign of hope! a sign of
promise! a sign of comfort?

She thought she would go back to Ferrari and see if he could

suggest any plan by which she could turn the tables on her
husband; so brushing the dead leaves off her dress, she threw the
lace kerchief she wore round her neck over her head, after the
fashion of a mantilla, and walked rapidly down the avenue towards
Deswarth.

The rapid motion of walking seemed to restore her nerve and with
such restoration she regained again the fierceness of her savage
spirit. The moment of softness was past, the good angel who had
comforted her with the star of hope fled away in terror, and over her
head the angel of evil, who had been her constant companion for so
many years, now spread his sable wings.

He had ordered her away. He had parted her from her child. This
man--her husband that used to be, who had ruined her life by his
cruel words and studied neglect. The blame of her sin rested on his
shoulders, and she had suffered in the eyes of the world. Now once
more he triumphed, and while he was resting, honoured and
respected in his own house, she was flying through the night like a
guilty creature.

"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin between her clenched teeth, "if I was a
man I'd kill him. But I can do nothing! I can do nothing. Yet I don't
know. If I can persuade that cowardly Ferrari, or Belk. Belk would do
anything for me. What is to be done must be done to-night--to-
morrow it will be too late. Which way am I to turn?"

She paused a moment; pressed her hands on her beating heart,

then suddenly made up her mind.

"I will see Ferrari--first."

The Chequers Inn was just on the outskirts of Deswarth, and a

comparatively short distance from Thornstream, so it did not take
Mrs. Belswin long, at the rapid pace at which she was walking, to
arrive there.

It stood a short distance back from the road, and the night being
hot, all the doors and windows were open, letting the yellow light
within stream out on to the dark village street. On the benches
outside a number of yokels were drinking and talking loudly together
about some fortnight-old event which had just reached their out-of-
the-way parish. Mrs. Belswin, not wishing to be recognised, flitted
rapidly past them, and was standing in the passage hesitating
whether to make herself known to the landlord or not, when luckily
at that moment Ferrari came out of a side door with the intention of
going into the taproom. Like a ghost the woman glided forward and
laid her hand on his arm.

"Stephano!"

"You, cara mia."

The passage was so dark that he was able to recognise her by her
voice alone, and the noise from the taproom was so loud that only a
quick ear like his could have distinguished her low tones.

"Come into some room. I wish to speak to you."

"Here, then!" he said, drawing her into the room from whence he
had emerged, "what is wrong? Il marito! eh! Dio! By your face there
is trouble."

With a sigh of relief Mrs. Belswin flung herself wearily into a chair,
while Ferrari carefully closed the door and took up his position on
the hearthrug. Even in that moment of anxiety Mrs. Belswin, with
that noting of trivial things common to a preoccupied mind, noticed
the tawdry furnishing of the apartment--the gaudy wall-paper, on
which hung brilliantly coloured portraits of the Queen, the Prince of
Wales, and General Gordon; the vivid red of the tablecloth, the dingy
blue of the chairs, and the tarnished mirror over the fireplace
swathed in fly spotted yellow gauze. Ferrari had evidently been
smoking, for there yet lingered about the room the odour of a cigar,
and the atmosphere was slightly hazy with smoke, while the smoky
flame of a badly trimmed kerosene lamp faintly illumined the whole
place.
On a chair near the wall sat Mrs. Belswin, faint and weary, but with
an angry light in her wonderful eyes; and standing on the hearthrug
the Italian, his hands behind his back, and his body slightly bent
forward, eager, anxious, and expectant.

"II marito?" he repeated, inquiringly.

The woman made a gesture of assent, upon which Ferrari rubbed his
hands together with an air of satisfaction.

"Bene!" he said, smiling and showing his white teeth; "it is as I said
it would be. Il marito has said 'Depart,' and you, my Lucrezia, have
come back to the faithful one. Ah, che gioja! We will now leave this
fog land and go to my beautiful Italy--dolce Napoli. The waiting is
over, cara mia. You are to me at last, ah felicita!"

"You go too fast, my friend," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a cold look of
disapproval on her expressive face. "Do you think I will marry a
coward?"

"I am no coward! If a man to me dared to speak the word I would

show him I am Italian. It is your eyes--your evil eyes--that make me
afraid. But you will not be cruel to me again, bellissima," he added,
in a caressing tone. "You have come to say, 'I love thee.'"

"Listen, Stephano," said Mrs. Belswin, rising to her feet and crossing
to the Italian. "I wish to tell you what he said. No! do not touch me!
Wait! I saw my husband. He spoke cruelly to me; he made me leave
his house--yes, turned me out like a dog!"

"Cospetto!"

"Ah, that stirs your blood! I see your eyes flash! Can you see me--
the woman you love--treated in this manner? No! I am sure you love
me too much. You are Italian! You have a strong arm and a warm
heart! Is it not so?"
"But what wish you, Signora?"

"Kill him!"

She had caught the Italian by the coat with her two hands, and her
face was so close to his own that he felt her hot breath on his pale
cheek. With a gesture of alarm he shrank away, and was about to
speak, but she prevented him.

"You are afraid of the law," she went on hurriedly. "Do not be afraid.
Listen! He--that man I hate--the man who has treated me like a
dog--is in a room with open windows that lead on a terrace. Go
there without noise--wait in the shadow. Within all is light--without
all is darkness. Draw him to the window by some trick. When his
figure is in the light, shoot him with this!"

Ferrari gave a gasp, for she had thrust a small revolver into his
hand, upon which his fingers unconsciously closed.

"I cannot do it myself," went on the temptress; "I dare not. They
would find out who I was, and what I did. I bought this pistol to kill
him to-night, but my heart failed me. No one will think it is you. Go!
Go, if you love me, and kill him, I will be your wife--I will do what
you wish--I will go where you like--only kill him! Kill him!"

It was no civilised woman who was thus planning a murder in such a

cold-blooded manner. It was a savage, with all the blood-thirsty
instincts of a barbaric race. All the European side of this woman's
nature had vanished, and the primeval lust for blood dominated her
entirely. Ferrari felt this horrible truth as her face, distorted with
passion, pressed close to his own, and with a cry of fear thrust her
away, dropped the pistol on the floor, and covered his face with his
hands.

"Devil woman that you are! No!"

Mrs. Belswin whirled into the centre of the room like an enraged
tigress.

"You won't do it?" she hissed madly. "You won't help me? I was
right. You are a coward. Well, I will ask you no more--I will do it
myself."

She picked up the pistol lying at his feet and turned to the door, but
with a cry of horror he sprang in front of her, and prevented her exit.

"No, no! you are mad! You are mad! I will not let you go."

"Stand away! I will go."

"No, cara, think. Dio!"

Like a caged panther she looked round the room for a means of exit,
for, mad with rage as she was, she yet retained sufficient sense to
know that a scene at the "Chequers" would be detrimental to her
plans.

"I must go! I must go!"

Her eye caught the window, and like a flash of lightning she sprang
towards it, tore it open, and bounded through into the darkness like
a panther, uttering a laugh of triumph as she vanished.

Ferrari darted forward, but stopped half-way across the room in

amazement.

"Dio! what a devil. I must go, or she will kill him."

He put on his hat and coat rapidly, and, closing the window, left the
inn by the door.

"My friend," he said to the landlord, "I go for a little walk. Addio!"
Luckily none of the labourers outside had seen Mrs. Belswin leave,
as she had slipped past them in the shadow, and the road to
Thornstream being perfectly deserted, she was free from discovery.
Ferrari had explored the neighbourhood that afternoon, so, knowing
the way to Thornstream, walked slowly along the road until out of
sight of the inn, then ran rapidly onward through the darkness,
longing to catch a glimpse of the flying woman speeding towards
Thornstream with murder in her heart.

CHAPTER XX.

A MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR.

"Stark and stiff in the lonely night,

Stiff and stark in the dawning light,
There it lies
With unseeing eyes,
And placid face of a bloodless white.

"Who hath slain this man by guilt and fraud

Bears on his brow, deep-seared and broad,
The blood-red stain
Which is mark of Cain,
Unseen by man but beheld by God."

The red light of dawn burned in the eastern skies, the first faint thrill
of life ran through the earth as the twitter of awakening birds was
heard in the green woods, then the glorious sun sent his beams over
the chill lands, bathing everything in golden splendour. Thornstream
Hall faced to the east, and the great shafts of sunlight breaking
through misty morning clouds, pointed downward like the finger of
God on to the terrace--to the open window of Sir Rupert's study, and
there in the splendour of sunrise lay a dead man.

Face downward he lay, with half of his body in the room, the other
half on the terrace, and the hands stretched out in the form of a
cross, clenched in the agony of death.

Last night--this morning--nay, but a few hours back, and this was a
living, breathing man, full of all the passions, sins, and hatred of
humanity; now an empty shell, a soulless husk, was all that
remained of Sir Rupert Pethram.

Then the servants began to move about the house attending to their
morning duties, and one--it was the housemaid--entered the study
to put it in order. There she saw the dead man, and with a terrible
cry fell senseless to the ground. Her cry brought in her fellow-
servants, there were expressions of incredulous wonder,
exclamations of horror, and then a general hubbub of voices.

In a few minutes all the household knew the terrible truth that Sir
Rupert had been found dead in his study, shot through the head,
and Dombrain came to the scene of the tragedy with horror on his
face, followed by Kaituna and Mrs. Belswin.

"For God's sake don't let Miss Pethram see it," said Dombrain to the
butler, "nor Mrs. Belswin. It is not a sight for women."

But it was too late; they were both in the room, and Kaituna with a
cry of horror fell on her knees beside the dead body of her father,
while Mrs. Belswin stood looking down at the corpse with an
impassive expression on her strongly-marked features.

The servants had left the room in order to send for the police, and
only three persons were left with the dead man--Kaituna, convulsed
with grief, kneeling by the body, and Mrs. Belswin standing beside
Dombrain, both silently looking--at the dead man? No. At the
weeping daughter? No. At one another? Yes.
The questioning look of Dombrain said--

"You were the dead man's enemy. Is this your work?"

Mrs. Belswin's eyes replied defiantly.

"I was, and am still, the dead man's enemy. I defy you to prove that
this is my work."

They eyed one another steadily for a few moments, and then the
man's eyes drooped before the fierce daring of the woman's.

There was silence in the room broken only by the sobs of Kaituna.

"Come away, my dear," said Mrs. Belswin, bending down with a

caressing gesture. "Come to your room; we can do no good here."

"Oh!" cried Kaituna, rising slowly from her knees; "who has done
this? My poor father! My poor father! Who has murdered him?"

Again a flash of suspicion between Dombrain and Mrs. Belswin.

"We do not know dear," said the latter, soothingly; "but Mr. Dombrain
has sent for the police. Perhaps they will find out the truth."

"They must! they must!" cried the girl, in an agony of grief. "Oh, it is
terrible. To have come back for this. To be killed under his own roof
by an enemy. Oh, why does God permits such things?"

"God permits many things," said Mrs. Belswin, bitterly, putting her
arm round the shrinking form of her daughter. "Come away, dear. All
that can be done will be done. The English police are clever, and
may perhaps capture the murderer."

Dombrain smiled, and Mrs. Belswin noticed the smile.

"Perhaps the murderer may escape," he said with emphasis, giving a

stealthy glance at Mrs. Belswin's coldly impassive face.
"He may escape man; but he will not escape God," cried Kaituna,
fervently. "Oh, come away, Mrs. Belswin, come away. I shall die if I
stay here."

"You will of course do everything that is necessary, Mr. Dombrain,"

said the chaperon, as she led the weeping girl to the door.

"Of course," he replied, stolidly. "I will arrange everything."

Mrs. Belswin looked at him steadily, and then left the room with the
heart-broken daughter, while Dombrain, left alone beside the corpse,
drew a long breath.

"What nerve," he said, under his breath; "what nerve."

The police came, took possession of the house, brought down

detectives from London, questioned every one, held an inquest, and-
-discovered nothing. Well; it was a difficult case. The police are not
infallible; therefore they failed to discover the murderer of Sir Rupert
Pethram. If it had been a low London murder case, for instance, of
the Whitechapel poker sort, then, indeed, the criminal would not
have escaped human justice; but in this affair it was impossible to
move in any direction. Justice promised to do what she could, and
did nothing. That bandage over her eyes is often in the way, and in
this instance blinded her altogether; so whomsoever had killed Sir
Rupert Pethram was quite safe, as far as this stupid, blind,
blundering Justice was concerned.

Of course the police had a theory which explained everything, and

accomplished nothing. The daily papers argued one way, the police
argued another, the public gave their view of the matter; and after
great cry, there was little wool.

Sir Rupert, according to an intelligent jury, came by his death at the

hands of a person unknown, a verdict which was vague, and might
mean anything. Then he was placed in the family vault, and the title
and estates went to a distant cousin; Kaituna left Thornstream a
penniless orphan, and a new order of things began.

The new heir was a man of business, who was hard, and prided
himself on being hard. He had a large family; and thinking the
Thornstream rents was quite small enough to rear his dozen
children--male and female in equal proportion--declined to do
anything for Kaituna, whom he scarcely knew.

Mrs. Belswin, thereupon, stepped forward, and took Kaituna off to

London with her to see Mr. Dombrain, and ascertain, if possible,
what private property Sir Rupert had died possessed of. Mr.
Dombrain was quite happy to oblige Mrs. Belswin in every way and
did what he could; but that was comparatively little; so little indeed,
that it made no difference in the financial position of Kaituna, and
she remained dependent on the bounty of Mrs. Belswin.

But Archie Maxwell! Oh, he behaved admirably. On hearing of the

death of Sir Rupert, through the medium of the press, he came
down at once to Deswarth, consulted with Toby, and made every
effort to find out the assassin of Sir Rupert, but without success.
Then he proposed to marry Kaituna as soon as possible after the
death of her father, which arrangement was approved of by Mrs.
Belswin, who added, however, that they could not marry on nothing;
and as Archie was not rich, and Kaituna was now poor, there was
nothing left for them but to wait.

This Archie agreed to do, after much persuasion, but meantime was
with Kaituna as often as possible. He came up to London with Mrs.
Belswin, helped her to select a comfortable lodging; and when his
sweetheart and her chaperon were established, went off on his own
account to see Mr. Dombrain.

"Has Miss Pethram absolutely nothing?" he asked.

"Really," says the solicitor, "I don't know if I can give you any
information----"
"Yes, you can! I am engaged to Miss Pethram, and I am going to
marry her as soon as I can. I don't want her money for myself, but I
want her to get her rights."

"Mr. Maxwell," said Dombrain, solemnly, "the late Sir Rupert was a
great friend of mine, and I would do anything for his daughter, but
I'm afraid that she inherits nothing but two thousand shares."

"Oh, indeed! In what company?"

"In the Pole Star Silver Mining Company, Limited Melbourne,

Australia."

"Are they worth anything?"

"Not even the paper they are written on."

"Hump!" said Archie, thoughtfully, "from what I heard of Sir Rupert,

I should hardly think he was a fool, and no one but a fool would
invest his money in a rotten company. Do you know anything of
Australian mining?"

"I know New Zealand," replied Mr. Dombrain, evasively, "but I'm not
acquainted with Australia. The mine may turn up trumps. On the
other hand it may not."

"Are these shares all the property left by Sir Rupert?"

"Yes! He had land in New Zealand; but when he came in for the title
he sold it all, and invested the money in these shares. He thought he
would be able to save money from the Thornstream rents, to leave
to his daughter, but as he occupied the position of master such a
short time, of course he saved nothing."

"And the new baronet, Sir Thomas, will do nothing for Miss
Pethram?"
"Nothing!"

"What a scoundrel!"

Mr. Dombrain shrugged his shoulders, and declined to commit

himself to an opinion,--a legal opinion is worth seven shillings and
sixpence, so there is no use wasting that amount.

"By the way," said Archie, as he was going, "what do you think of
this murder?"

"I think it is a most mysterious affair," said Dombrain, after a pause.

"I can't account for it; I was staying in the house as you know, and
left Sir Rupert in his study quite hearty. I heard no pistol shot, and in
the morning he was dead. Most extraordinary."

"Had Sir Rupert any enemies?"

"My dear sir, we all have enemies," replied Dombrain, evasively.

"I dare say; but one's enemies don't go as far as murder as a rule,"
answered Archie, dryly.

"No! no! that is true. But really, Mr. Maxwell, you know as much
about the murder as I do, and I dare say are as completely in the
dark."

"I shan't be in the dark long."

"How so?"

"Because I'm going to find out who murdered Sir Rupert."

"Take my advice and don't try," said Dombrain slowly.

"Why not?" demanded Maxwell, looking at him keenly.

"Because you'll discover nothing. How can you? The police have
failed."

"I don't believe in the police much," replied Archie lightly. "I may
succeed where others have failed. Good-bye. Mr. Dombrain, I am
going to see Miss Pethram, and will probably see you again about
these shares."

When Maxwell had departed the solicitor sat in deep thought for a
few minutes.

"I wonder," he said at length, "I wonder if he knows anything about

Mrs. Belswin."

CHAPTER XXI.

ARCHIE MAKES HIS PLANS.

"If you are my friend,

I set you this task.
Aid me to an end,
If you are my friend,
Your comradeship lend.
This secret unmask.
If you are my friend
I set you this task."

"Maxwell, Globetrotters, to Clendon, Vicarage, Deswarth.--Come to

me at once. Important."
Toby was a lover and therefore unwilling to leave the vicinity of his
beloved; but he was also a friend, and being of a kind, staunch
nature, speedily made up his mind to obey at once the telegram. His
father who sincerely regretted the misfortune which had befallen the
unfortunate Kaituna and her lover, warmly approved of his son's
going away; so, Toby's mind being at rest concerning the parental
opinion, he rode over to the Valpys, in order to see what Tommy
thought about the matter.

As he expected, she said he was to lose no time in going to Maxwell,

and also gave him several affectionate messages for Kaituna.

"You don't know how sorry I am for her, Toby," she said, with a sigh.
"Fancy losing your father and then all your money."

"Still Archie is left," observed Toby, wisely.

"Yes; I'm glad of that. She will always have him to protect her, and
that kind woman, Mrs. Belswin. Now then, Toby, don't you say there
are no good people in this world when Mrs. Belswin has acted as she
has done."

"I never said there were no good people in the world," retorted her
lover in an injured tone. "I only said that good people are few and
far between."

"Of course," went on Tommy, without noticing this defence, "Kaituna

could always have found a home with ma and I. I wish she had
come here instead of going to London; but Mrs. Belswin seems very
fond of her, and then Mr. Maxwell will marry her soon, so she will be
happy some day."

"I wonder why Mrs. Belswin is so very fond of Kaituna," speculated

Toby, idly. "Paid companions as a rule don't go beyond their wages in
the matter of affection, but Mrs. Belswin goes the entire bakery."
"Toby, don't be vulgar," replied Miss Valpy, reprovingly; "Mrs. Belswin
is a very superior woman."

"I hate superior women."

"Oh, thank you!"

"You're not a superior woman," said Clendon, laughingly.

"What am I, then?"

"The dearest girl in the world."

"I am! I am! You'll find that out when your wife's milliner's bill comes
in. Now, don't, Toby! There are more important things than kissing."

"Not just now," replied Clendon, and kissed her twice. "Good-bye,
dearest I shall expect a letter every day."

"Will you really? How long will you be absent?"

"I don't know! It depends on what Archie wants to see me about."

"Well, I'll write. Good-bye, and take my love to Kaituna."

"Certainly; only I hope it won't get damaged during the transit."

So they parted, and Tommy returned to discuss Kaituna's future with

her mother, while Toby packed his portmanteau, and, after taking
leave of his father, caught the afternoon train to town.

Archie Maxwell, when engaged in foreign parts, underwent all

incidental hardships without a murmur, and accepted all
disagreeables with a philosophy beautiful to behold; but Archie
Maxwell when in London indemnified himself for all such hardships
by giving himself as many pleasures as his income permitted him.
Being a young gentleman of good family, he had a very reputable
circle of acquaintances, he had very pleasant rooms in the West End,
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