iringly, and she went on, with a kind
of desperate indignation:

"It was in a gallery. It was called _The Sacrificial Goat_. The poor
tormented creature was plodding with weary feet through the quaking
wilderness, under the crimson rocks of Edom, and by the shores of the
Dead Sea. I could not keep away from that picture. I felt as if I
could do anything to give the fainting animal a drink of cold water.
No one feels that about me"--and she flung herself among the satin
cushions of her sofa and began to sob like a lost child.

"Oh, Rose! Rose! How can you say so? What would I not do to make you
happy?"

"Leave me alone, dear mamma. Do not be miserable about me. I am not
worth worrying over; and I do not care the snap of my fingers for your
society! Only, do not tell papa anything against his little Rose. He
will never find out I am sorrowful and despised unless you say it in
his very ears."

"Rose, go and speak to your father. He is a wise man; and he has a
heart, my child."

"Yes, as good a heart as can possibly be made out of brains. But I do
not want to trouble papa; and I do want him to believe I am all that
is lovely and admirable. You never told him about Duval, did you?"

"No. Why should I?"

"And what have you said about Antony?"

"What you told me to say--that gold had been found on his place, and
he had to look after things. It quite pleased him."

"Will Harry say anything--wrong?"

"Nothing at all. I have spoken to Harry."

"Poor dear papa!"

"Oh, Rose! My Rose!"

"And poor dear mamma, too!"

"If you would only write one word to Antony."

"I will not."

This conversation indicated the way Rose was going to take, and she
made haste to carry out her determination. There is always a
brilliant riffraff of good society who are eager for pleasure--so
called--and ambitious to achieve the trumpery distinction of
'smartness'--dissipated, devilish men, and rapid, realistic
women; and with this class Rose found it easy to fill her fine
rooms. It was to outward appearance a highly desirable set,
gorgeously dressed, and having all the insignia of the uppermost
class. There was no sign of anything but the most exact virtue at
the dinner-table, and the earlier dances were beautiful and
proper; but as the evenings wore on, and the wines and ices began to
influence conduct, the tone fell lower; men and women talked louder,
and danced more recklessly; and at the last hour it was necessary
to be a little