ainly bored to death by his own erudition. It was a large dinner,
and Lena was alert to study every one, both what he did and how he did
it; but chiefly, from her vantage point at the right hand of her host;
did she watch Miss Madeline Elton, who sat near the middle of the table
on the other side, where Lena could study her face over a sea of
violets. Lena was puzzled. Madeline seemed less reposeful and more
charming than she remembered. For an instant she wondered if her own
beauty, now tricked out by jewels, was not cheap beside Miss Elton's
undecorated loveliness. She noted that the men around the table looked
often in Madeline's direction. Even Mr. Early occasionally let his
attention wander from his suave courtesy toward herself, and Lena
resented this. She deeply admired Mr. Early. His was the big and blatant
success which she could easily comprehend, and she exulted at the idea
of sitting at the post of honor beside a man distinguished over the
length and breadth of the land. Once, even her own husband, Richard
Percival, leaned forward and gazed at Madeline as she spoke across the
table, and there was a look in his face that Lena treasured in her
cabinet of unforgiven things. She flushed with anger. Her hatred of Miss
Elton was as old as her acquaintance with her husband, and its growth
had been parallel.

Then her eyes met the glowing glance of a dark face under a turban of
soft white silk, and she turned hastily away.

"I see you are looking at my ceiling, Mrs. Percival," said Mr. Early.
"It is a reproduction of the beautiful fan-tracery in the Henry VII
chapel at Westminster. Doubtless you recognize it. But, alas, it is
impossible to attain the spiritual beauty of the original until age has
laid its sanctifying hand on the carving. This has had but a year of
life for each century that the chapel tracery can boast. And, of course,
I admit that the effect must be modified by the surroundings. A
dining-room can never have the atmosphere of a church, can it, my dear
Mrs. Percival? Though I assure you, I have tried to be consistent in all
the decorations and the furniture of this room."

"It's very beautiful," said Lena. "And who is the large gentleman with
the long white mustaches?"

"Surely you have met Mr. Preston. He is one of our best type of business
men, and the candidate that the new reform element, in which your
husband is playing an honorable part, is hoping to set up for mayor. It
would be a notable