"Don't you, Mistress Van Zandt? Listen, then: I'm talking about what a tyrant you are to my brother. Here you have been married to him almost a year and I don't believe you've ever given the poor boy as much as a kiss or one fond word. Do you think he is a stick or a stone, without any feeling, that you behave so heartlessly? I tell you it made me angry to see him this morning afraid to come inside this room to tell you good-bye. Don't you know he has a right to be in this room with you if he choose, only he is too afraid of you to assert himself? There is no other man on earth half so good and chivalrous as Eliot. Fancy Bryant being afraid to put his foot inside Sylvie's door. Why, they both would tell you it was all nonsense. You treat Eliot--" Una held out her hands entreatingly. "Hush, Edith, don't scold me so," she begged, with quivering lips; but she did not utter a word in her own defense. She was too wretched and heart-sick, feeling that Eliot's fault, his persistent avoidance of his wife, need not be held up to his sister's condemnation. "Far rather would I shield him by letting the blame rest wholly upon myself," she resolved, firmly. CHAPTER XXXV. Sylvie pretended to be very anxious that day over the appearance her sisters-in-law would make at the theater-party. "Have you anything new?" she inquired. "Because I have invited several young ladies and gentlemen, and ordered a supper here after the performance at the theater. Of course, I want you all to do credit to Bryant." "We haven't a new thing," declared Edith, lugubriously. "You and Ida will have to uphold the honor of the family by your elegant dressing, for Maud and I will be sure to look like dowdies." Mme. Sylvie did not seem to take the information much to heart. She said carelessly: "And Eliot's wife?" "Oh, she will be a dowdy, too," replied roguish Edith. So Sylvie and Ida could scarcely believe their eyes that evening when Maud and Edith sallied in, the dark-haired Maud in gold-colored satin, red roses, and rubies, and Edith in lustrous rose-color with white lace flounces, while diamonds flashed from her throat and ears. Both girls looked as handsome in their way as the bisque dolls who were splendid in Parisian toilets and a profusion of gleaming jewels. Sylvie stared in amaze and jealous displeasure. "You told me you had nothing fit to wear!" she exclaimed, acrimoniously. "I beg your pardon--nothing new," Edith replied, dimpling with mischief. "These are our mother's old dresses made over." "But diamonds and rubies--I am sure Bryant told me that all your mother's jewels were sold to help pay your father's debts when he failed!" Sylvie exclaimed, in wonderment and displeasure. "So they were," Maud answered. "But, Sylvie, these do not belong to us. We borrowed them from Una." Ida Hayes broke in with inexpressible anger and spite: "I thought Eliot was too poor to give such jewels to his wife." Edith flashed her a glance of scorn.