This contribution was sent in with no other identification than "From B.," written on the card which accompanied it. How could Bettina have dreamed that any living soul would connect her with it? She was not unaware, however, that she was constantly watched by her husband. Since she had become interested in her new pursuits he observed her more closely than ever, and on the morning of the publication in the papers of the special additions to the famine fund which contained her own subscription Lord Hurdly, with apparently no reason at all, read the list aloud to her across the breakfast table. When he came to the item "From B.," he paused and looked at her searchingly. Bettina felt her face turn red. [Illustration: "'THE MONEY WAS PARTLY MY OWN'"] "I thought so," said her husband, with a strange mixture of satisfaction and anger in his hard tones. "I have been expecting some such foolery as this for some time, and I am not blinded to the motive behind it. What do you care about those devils of Indian savages? What does Horace Spotswood care about them? Just as little! Enough, and too much, of my money has gone already to the prolonging of their worthless lives. If that graceless cub chooses to go on wasting money on them he can do it, but I take this occasion to inform you, Lady Hurdly--and I'd advise you to remember what I say--that I do not choose that any more of my money shall go in that direction. Do you understand?" There was an insolence in his tone which he had never used to her before. She resented it keenly. Rising to her feet, with an instinct which forbade her to preside over the table at the other end of which he was seated as master, she said, with a tinge of anger in her quiet tones: "The money was partly my own--from my mother's little fortune; and she would have held, with me, that I could put it to no more holy use. As to the rest, I understood that that also was my own. I did not know that you required of me an account of how I used it." "How you used it? You may light your fire with it, for all I care! But there is one thing for which I do care, and which I mean to see nipped in the bud; and that is this ridiculous sentimentality which you are indulging in over Horace Spotswood. If you are regretting your young lover, that is your own affair, but when you come to flaunt this regret before the eyes of the public it becomes my affair, and as such I propose to put a stop to it." Bettina trembled with the rage of resentment that possessed her. She recollected herself enough, however, not to speak until she had paused long enough to be sure that she could control herself. Then she said: