.

"You both look so well," she said. "You don't look so tired as most
engaged people do. I suppose you don't sit up every night until twelve
talking about yourselves, as they generally do, I am told. That must be
so fatiguing. Mr. Trennahan, you are actually stouter. You don't look as
if you had been climbing perpendicular mountains. Is it true that a man
stepped over the Bridal Veil backward? Do tell me all about it!"

Helena was staring at Magdalena with her mouth half open. She was the
least obtuse of mortals, but although she knew that pride was at the
root of Magdalena's extraordinary behaviour, she concluded that love had
fled, and marvelled, for she had believed Magdalena to be the deepest
and most tenacious of women. But she was very glad.

"Well!" she exclaimed. "Something has improved you! You will be fairly
brilliant by next winter. And do for goodness' sake, 'Lena, give Don
Roberto to understand that he's not to have his own way. He's like all
bullies: he'd soon give in if you bullied him. I adore papa, and would
do anything on earth for him; but if he had been born a different sort,
and gave me trouble, I'd find more than one way of bringing him to
terms. Just flash your eyes at Don Roberto as you're flashing them at
us, and you'll see the difference it will make."

Has she ceased to love me? thought Trennahan. Thank God!--at least I
ought to.

When they had gone, the sherry had run its course, and Magdalena felt
very much ashamed of herself. I overdid it, she thought in terror, as
she recalled her scintillating remarks and elaborate manner. He must
have suspected! I'll drink no more, and next time I'll be just what I
would have been if I had never laid eyes on him--if I die in the
attempt. And how I talked! What things I said! Great Heaven, I made a
complete fool of myself!

And the knowledge that for once in her life she had thrown her dignity
and pride to the winds put her other pain to flight, and she had at
least one night unracked by the record within her.

XIX

Two days later she met Trennahan on the Montgomerys' verandah. She was
her old sedate self, to his unspeakable relief. That Magdalena should
change, be less than the admirable creature he had loved when he was
something more than himself, would have seemed no less a calamity than
had the stars turned black. She sat up very straight in her prim little
way and talked of Helena's new project; which was to build bath-houses
down