"He loves me, but not so much. He leaves me for long time,--alone." "Has he ever seen you in a rage?" "Yes," answered Mrs. Lupo in a low voice, her head sinking on her breast. "Of course, then, that is why he leaves you. Men like gentleness in a woman. A violent-tempered wife never keeps her husband's love. If you were gentle and quiet, your husband would take you with him to the village. But you are jealous and uncontrolled. You make a spectacle of yourself and of him. You look very ugly as you looked a while ago, like an angry animal instead of a handsome young woman. Try being gentle and always looking pretty and see how it works." Mrs. Lupo looked up. Miss Campbell had captured her interest and she was listening to that sage spinster's advice with entire attention. "You think me handsome woman?" "Very, when you are in a good temper." "Suppose I can't keep back anger?" "The next time your eyes see red, make a little prayer. It will always be answered." "To Christ?" asked Mrs. Lupo, who had been to a mission school as a girl. "Yes, to Christ, who never spoke a harsh word even when He was struck in the face and spit upon and finally nailed to a cross." "What shall I say?" asked the other, as interested as a child. "When you feel the rage coming on, say over and over: 'Oh, Christ, take my anger from me and make me gentle and kind.'" Mrs. Lupo repeated the prayer several times. "And it will come true?" she asked. "Always, always. Try it and see." At last the half-breed rose to her feet. The knife stood upright between them swaying on its blade. "You forgive?" she asked. "I forgive." "I will go away. I am afraid yet when the daughter comes. There is still hate here," she pointed to her temples. "But it will be gone if I stay away. When Lupo goes to village he stays long time. It is better for me not to see him when he comes back. Until I learn, I will not see him no more. Good-by. I'm thankful to you." Mrs. Lupo departed, leaving the knife where it had fallen. It was on the tip of Miss Campbell's tongue to say: "You must not leave me alone." But she checked herself. She doubted if she could exert her will another time like that. Already beads of perspiration stood out on her brows. A feeling of extreme lassitude crept over her and she slipped back into the hammock with a sensation of nausea. Then unconsciousness bound her with invisible cords and the brave little woman fainted dead away. As Mrs. Lupo turned into the gallery, she glanced back but she only saw the train of Miss Campbell's white wrapper fluttering from the hammock in the breeze.