“But, mamma, True would never forgive you if you should do anything to compromise his wife,” said Evelyn. “She isn’t his wife if she has married him under false pretences—under a false name,” retorted madam, almost savagely. “I don’t believe such a marriage would be legal,” she added with a fierce gleam in her eyes. “I am determined to make her believe so, if I can; then, perhaps, she will run away from him, as she did from her own home, and that will give him a chance to get a divorce. The thought that he knows absolutely nothing about her drives me nearly wild,” she despairingly concluded. “Well, but you must remember they had only been married about a fortnight when we returned, and her health was such he would not allow her to get excited over anything; you know he said he would not have her annoyed, and forbade us to question her,” remarked the younger lady. “He had no right to compromise us in any such rash way, even if he had no pride on his own account. I am only thankful that no one in our set appears to know anything about the marriage as yet. Oh, if we could only find some way to get rid of her!” and the dark look upon the woman’s face augured ill for the fair young bride. “You can take my word for it, mamma, Salome is not one to be easily managed. Where she imagines herself to be in the right she will not be turned from her point,” said Evelyn. “How do you know? What makes you say that?” “Why, by the way she has managed ever since we returned, for one thing. She has ruled in everything where any serious question has arisen, only, I admit, she has done it in a very quiet, adroit manner. True told her she was to be mistress here, and she has made us recognize the fact from the very first. She has very cleverly managed to ascertain our wishes and preferences, and has tried to defer to them; she has often supplemented her commands to please us, when we have objected to certain things at times, but she never countermanded previous orders.” “That is true,” madam assented with firmly compressed lips. “And about those ponies the other day,” Miss Winthrop resumed; “I knew that they had been purchased expressly for her, but I did not mean that she should think I did, and I had been aching to use them, only I wouldn’t drive with her—you remember how obstinate she was, mamma!” “But you made a mistake, Evelyn,” her mother answered. “They would have been ruined if they had dragged that heavy barouche around, and Truman would have been very angry with you. You should have ordered them put into his buggy if you were bound to use them and would not go in the coupé.” “I did not think of that; but the affair proves that she will not give up her point—the tone she used to the coachman settled the matter at once,” said Miss Winthrop, flushing at the remembrance of her defeat. “Well, I will find a way to manage her,” retorted her mother sharply.