lasted, or resulted in such reaction when it had passed. "I am never afraid then," she said to Agnes once. "There is nothing I could not bear. It seems as if I were made of steel, and had never been soft or timid in my life. Everything is gone but my power over myself, and--yes, it intoxicates me. Until it is over I am not really hurt, I think. There was something I read once about a man who was broken on the wheel, and while it was being done he laughed, and shrieked, and sang. I think all women are like that sometimes: while they are being broken they laugh, and shriek, and sing; but afterward--afterward"-- So now she spoke the simple truth. "I shall have you at a disadvantage, you may observe," she said. "I shall see your face, and you will not see mine--unless I wish you to do so. A little turn of my wrist, and you have only my voice to rely upon. Do you wish to speak to me before Richard comes in? If so, I am afraid you must waste no time, as his train is due at twelve. You were going to say"-- "I am afraid it is something you will not like to hear," he answered, "though I did not contradict you when you suggested that it was." "You were outside then," she replied, "and I might not have let you come in." "No," he said, "you might not." He looked at the feather screen which she had inclined a trifle. "Your screen reminded me of your great lady, Bertha," he said, "because I saw her to-night, and--and heard her--and she was speaking of you." "Of me!" she replied. "That was kind indeed." "No," he returned, "it was not. She was neither generous nor lenient; she did not even speak the truth; and yet, as I heard her, I was obliged to confess that, to those who did not know you and only saw you as you were to-night, what she said might not appear so false." Bertha turned her screen aside and looked at him composedly. "She was speaking of Senator Planefield," she remarked, "and Judge Ballard, and Commander Barnacles. She reprehended my frivolity and deplored the tendency of the age." "She was speaking of Senator Planefield," he answered. She moved the screen a little. "Has Senator Planefield been neglecting her?" she said. "I hope not." "Lay your screen aside, Bertha," he commanded, hotly. "You don't need it. What I have to say will not disturb you, as I feared it would--no, I should say as I hoped it would. It is only this: that these people were speaking lightly of you--that they connected your name with Planefield's as--as no honest man is willing that the name of his wife should be connected with that of another man. That was all; and I, who am always interfering with your pleasures, could not bear it, and so have made the blunder of interfering again."