m
that she was to bear the burden of the conversation.

"You'll have a cup of tea?" she said.

"Yes;--if you do." Then the page brought the tea, and John Eames
amused himself by swallowing three slices of very thin bread and
butter.

"Non for me,--thanks," said Madalina. "I rarely eat after dinner, and
not often much then. I fancy that I should best like a world in which
there was no eating."

"A good dinner is a very good thing," said John. And then there was
again silence. He was aware that some great secret was to be told him
this evening, but he was much too discreet to show any curiosity upon
that subject. He sipped his tea to the end, and then, having got up
to put his cup down, stood on the rug with his back to the fire.
"Have you been out to-day?" he asked.

"Indeed I have."

"And you are tired?"

"Very tired!"

"Then perhaps I had better not keep you up."

"Your remaining will make no difference in that respect. I don't
suppose that I shall be in bed for the next four hours. But do as you
like about going."

"I am in no hurry," said Johnny. Then he sat down again, stretched
out his legs and made himself comfortable.

"I have been to see that woman," said Madalina after a pause.

"What woman?"

"Maria Clutterbuck,--as I must always call her; for I cannot bring
myself to pronounce the name of that poor wretch who was done to
death."

"He blew his brains out in delirium tremens," said Johnny.

"And what made him drink?" said Madalina with emphasis. "Never mind.
I decline altogether to speak of it. Such a scene as I have had! I
was driven at last to tell her what I thought of her. Anything so
callous, so heartless, so selfish, so stone-cold, and so childish,
I never saw before! That Maria was childish and selfish I always
knew;--but I thought there was some heart,--a vestige of heart. I
found to-day that there was none,--none. If you please we won't speak
of her any more."

"Certainly not," said Johnny.

"You need not wonder that I am tired and feverish."

"That sort of thing is fatiguing, I dare say. I don't know whether we
do not lose more than we gain by those strong emotions."

"I would rather die and go beneath the sod at once, than live without
them," said Madalina.

"It's a matter of taste," said Johnny.

"It is there that that poor wretch is so deficient. She is thinking
now, this moment, of nothing but her creature comforts. That tragedy
has not even stirred her pulses."

"