She went into the hall, and Miss Ramsey followed her. On the second landing they entered a large room, the floor of which was spread with white fur rugs, warmed by the reddish lights and shadows from an open fire. Mariana crossed to the fire, and, drawing off her gloves, held her hands to the flames. There was a strained look in her eyes, as if she had not awaked to her surroundings. Miss Ramsey raised the wick of the lamp, yawned behind her hand, and came to where Mariana was standing. "Are you tired?" she asked. "The opera was very long." Mariana started and looked at her. "You poor little thing," she said. "It half killed you. No, don't go. Sit down for a moment. I want to talk to you." As she spoke she unfastened her gown, slipped it off, and threw it across a chair. Then she put on a wrapper of white flannel, and, seating herself on the rug before the fire, loosened her heavy hair. "I want to talk," she repeated. Miss Ramsey drew a chair beside her and sat down. She laid her hand on Mariana's hair. "Shall I braid it?" she asked. Mariana shook her head. "I don't want you to wait on me," she replied, half pettishly. "Janet can do that. I want you to love me." Miss Ramsey smiled. "How shall I begin?" she inquired. But Mariana was silent, staring moodily into the fire, where the ruddy coals assumed sharp and bizarre designs. As the light flickered over her face it brought out the changes in her eyes and the warmth of her mouth. "Do you see that head in the fire?" she asked, suddenly. "It is the head of the Sphinx--and before it there is a burning desert--do you see?" Then she laid her head in Miss Ramsey's lap, and her voice sounded faint and far off. "I want to be told that I am good," she said; "that I have been good all my life--that I am a saint, like that splendid creature who came to speak to me to-night. Am I as good as she?" "I do not know her," responded Miss Ramsey. Mariana raised her eyes to her face. "Am I like I used to be--at The Gotham?" Miss Ramsey smiled. "You are older." "And wiser?" "I don't think you will ever be wise, my dear." "I am afraid not," said Mariana. "I am wedded to folly." Then she sighed softly. "Am I better?" she asked. "You are very good to me." "Am I better--to look at?" Miss Ramsey shook her head gently. "Dress makes a good deal of difference," she returned, presently. Mariana rose and kissed her good-night. "Sleep well," she said. "And don't make your bed in the morning--please don't. Yes, I am very sleepy."