West lifted his shoulders. “Well, perhaps I am contemptible. It all depends on the point of view, I suppose. Now, you don’t consider your husband contemptible, and yet he’s worse than I am. I don’t pretend to be any better than I am.” “I’ll let you say these things to his face,” Helen replied, starting to leave the room. West stood between her and the door. “If you make a scene here, Mrs. Briggs, you’ll simply disgrace yourself and you’ll ruin your husband. Can’t you see what you’re doing? Your husband has been in my pay ever since he came to Washington. But for me, do you suppose you could live in all this luxury? Why, this very ball to-night has cost more than half his salary. All those stories that they tell about him are true, do you understand?--only they’re not half as bad as the stories I could tell. If the whole truth were known he’d be held up before all the country as a thief and a hypocrite. But for me he’d be a petty country lawyer in the backwoods that you came from. I gave him his chance; I’ve made him what he is. I’ve favored him more than anyone else in his position since he came here, for your sake, because I loved you. He knew that, and he’s been playing on the knowledge.” He released her hands. “I hope you’re satisfied now.” Helen sank weakly into a chair. “Shall I ring for your husband, Mrs. Briggs?” West asked, with satirical politeness. Douglas Briggs, who had just learned from Fanny that his wife was in the library, happened to be outside, in the hall. He overheard West’s last remark. “Ring for me!” he repeated, as he entered the room. “What’s the matter?” “Mrs. Briggs is feeling a little faint, I think,” said West, with perfect composure. “So I suggested that we send for you.” “Are you ill, Helen?” Briggs asked, anxiously. “No. It’s--it’s nothing. If you will take me out on the balcony I shall feel better.” Helen passed her hand over her forehead. “It’s so close here.” Briggs passed his arm around his wife’s waist and walked slowly toward the door. As he left the room he turned. “Make yourself at home, West,” he said. When they reached the balcony Helen let her hand rest on the rail and drew a long breath. “It was so dreadfully hot in there!” she said, with a twinge of conscience at the covert deceit. But she felt she must keep the cause of her agitation from her husband; at any rate, until she had time to think and to decide what to do. If she were to speak now of the insult she had received, she felt sure that nothing would keep Douglas from attacking West and driving him from the house. She must do everything she could to prevent a scandal. [Illustration: “‘_I don’t pretend to be any better than I am._’”] “We’ll have to send you back to Waverly, dear, and get some more color into those cheeks of yours.” Briggs took his wife’s hand. “Why, you’re trembling!” he said.