Claire Keith made her toilet with swift, firm fingers, and all the while she was thinking fiercely, scornfully. She was not stunned by the blow that had stricken her love and her pride. Rather, it seemed, she was quickened into unusual activity and clearness of thought. After a time, perhaps, she would feel more the sadness, the cruelty, of the hurt; now she felt the outrage to her pride, and a fierce self-scorn that she could have ever loved a man so base. She hated Edward Percy for having deceived her, and equally she despised herself for having been thus deceived by this specious flatterer. "You little fool!" she scoffed at her image reflected back from her mirror. "You are a very idiot among idiots! I wonder where are all your high notions now. So," giving her hair an angry jerk, "you perched yourself aloft on a pinnacle, didn't you? You looked down upon all your sisterhood who were deceived, or betrayed, or sorrowing; and you wondered how women could be so weak; how they _could_ be deluded by base men. You looked upon poor dead Kitty, and wondered what was the flaw in her intellect that made her the slave of a gambler and a villain. You argued that only an unsophisticated school girl could be deceived as was poor Madeline. Oh, you have been very proud, and very high has been your standard of manly worth, Miss Claire Keith! So high that the man who has occupied it might easily slip from that pedestal to--Haman's gallows!" At this point in her tirade, something suspiciously like a sob arose in her throat, and checked her utterance. But it did not retard her activity, and in a much shorter time than she usually spent upon an evening toilet, Miss Keith stood, accoutered and defiantly calm, at Madeline's door. CHAPTER XIX. A DUAL RENUNCIATION. Madeline Payne had lingered over her toilet, pondering the incomprehensible manner of Claire Keith. She now stood before her mirror, brush in hand, thinking. "Not ready yet?" If Madeline could believe her eyes, Claire was actually smiling! "I thought you would be waiting for me," continued Claire, composedly, pulling a big chair forward, and sitting down where she could look full in Madeline's face. "But it is just as well; there is something that I want to say, before we go down. Why don't you go on with your hair?" Madeline's hand, brush and all, had dropped to her side, and she was silently staring at her friend. Without a word she resumed her employment, looking more at Claire than at her own reflected image. "You guessed rightly, when you accused me of having seen Mr. Percy to-day," pursued Claire. "Accused, Claire?" "Well, informed, then. I did see him. He wrote me a letter; it was posted at Bellair; you see," smiling bitterly; "that I have no reason for doubting anything you have told me." A new light broke over Madeline's face. "Do you doubt?" she asked, quickly. "Not one word!" "Oh!" drawing a breath of relief. "You were so composed I thought--"