u," she said; "I am glad that I can help you."

They were near a huge oak whose limbs shut out the stars. Trennahan drew
her into its shadows and took her in his arms and kissed her many times.
He lifted her arms about him, and she clasped her hands tightly. He
might be business-like, without illusions, but he knew how to make love
with energy and grace. Magdalena from brain to sole was on fire with
adoration of him. The words of it surged toward speech, but reserve held
her even then. She only clung to him and breathed the passion which his
touch had startled. His own pulses were full, and he held her close,
glad that the spiritual desires had caught and embraced the human, and
that their chances for happiness were all that he could wish and a good
deal more than he deserved.

XXX

"Look!" whispered Magdalena.

They had reached the steps of the verandah, and were about to mount when
she laid her hand on his arm. Mr. Polk stood by one of the windows. His
head was thrust forward. He was staring into the room with hungry eyes
and twitching jaw. The light was full on his white face. In the room
Tiny was standing on a chair fanning Alan Rush. Fort was commanding Ila
to pick up his handkerchief. The others were laughing and applauding.
Lee and Coralie in their obscure corner were wide-eyed with excitement,
and happy. Mr. Polk's chest heaved spasmodically. He screwed up his
eyes. His face grinned. He looked like a man on the rack. He opened his
eyes and glared about; but he saw nothing, for they were blind with
tears. He turned and fled.

Magdalena clung to Trennahan, shaking. "Take me home," she said. "I
cannot stand any more to-night."

BOOK II

I

Helena was back.

Magdalena sat amidst iridescent billows of ballgowns, dinner-gowns,
tea-gowns, negliges, demi-toilettes, calling-frocks, street-frocks,
yachting-frocks, summer-frocks. She had never seen so many clothes
outside of a dry-goods shop, and marvelled that any one woman should
want so many. They were on the bed, the chairs, the tables, the divan.
Two mammoth trunks were but half unpacked. Others, empty, made the hall
impassable.

"I love dress," said Helena, superfluously. "And women forgive your
beauty and brains so much more willingly if you divert their attention
by the one thing their soul can admire without bitterness."

"You have not grown cynical, Helena?" asked Magdalena, anxiously.

"A little. It's a phase of extreme yout