"It was in battle." "Yes." "And women like you, pure, with no vice of blood, sometimes are tempted, struggle, and suffer." His words, still more his voice, made we wince. "Even drawn battles bring their scars," I replied. "Convince me beyond all doubt that a woman can reason with her impulses, or even fathom them, and I will be in your debt." "Maybe--but Ben is coming." He looked at me strangely. "You must find this very dull, Cassandra," said Ben, joining us. "_Cassandra_," said Desmond, "are you bored?" The accent with which he spoke my name set my pulses striking like a clock. I got up mechanically, as Ben directed. "They are going to supper. There's game. Des. Munster told me to take the northeast corner of the table." "I shall take the southwest, then," he replied, nodding to a tall gentleman who passed with Adelaide. When we left him, he was observing a carved oak chair, in occult sympathy probably with the grain of the wood. Nature strikes us with _her_ phenomena at times when other resources are not at hand. We were compelled to wait at the door of the supper-room, the jam was so great. "What fairy story do you like best?" asked Ben "I know which you like." "Well?" "Bluebeard. You have an affinity with Sister Ann in the tower." "Do you think I see nothing 'but the sun which makes a dust and the grass which looks green?' I believe you like Bluebeard, too." That was a great joke, at which we both laughed. When I saw Desmond again, he was surrounded by men, the French Count among them, drinking champagne. He held a bottle, and was talking fast. The others were laughing. His listless, morose expression had disappeared; in the place of a brutal-tempered, selfish, bored man, I saw a brilliant, jovial gentleman. Which was the real man? "Finish your jelly," said Ben. "I prefer looking at your brother." "Leave my brother alone." "You see nothing but 'the sun which makes a dust, and the grass which looks green.'" Miss Munster hoped I was cared for. How gay Desmond was! she had not seen such a look in his face in a long time. And how strongly he was marked with the family traits. "How am I marked, May?" asked Ben. "Oh, we know worse eccentrics than you are. What are you up to now? You are not as frank as Desmond." He laughed as he looked at me, and then Adelaide called to us that it was time to leave. We were among the last; the carriage was waiting. We made our bows to Mrs. Munster, who complained of not having seen more of us. "You are a favorite of Mrs. Hepburn's, Miss Morgeson, I am told. She is a remarkable woman, has great powers." I mentioned my one interview with her. Guests were going upstairs with smiles, and coming down without, released from their company manners. We rode home in silence, except that Adelaide yawned fearfully, and then we toiled up the long stairs, separating with a tired, "good-night."