s some new distraction, but how can I
have that in this stupid town?" Then she was silent for awhile and
during that time she thought of the few days last winter when a new
element had come into her life only to vanish as quickly again. She
thought of a ball-room, an exciting dance, and the magnetic impulse of a
moment which had made life seem so sweet. Why had she resisted that
temptation, she asked herself. The other course could not have made her
more unhappy, and it, at least, was no more a mockery than her present
life, with that love still burning fiercely to the wild accompaniment of
Tzigan strains, echoing in her heart. "What is the use of being good?"
she asked herself. Then she smiled a mocking answer, turned over on the
lounge and buried her face in the cushions.

Florence watched Marion anxiously for a moment. She was extremely
worried about the state of nervous depression in which she had found her
friend on returning to Chicago, and she was trying to think of some way
in which she could help her. She leaned over her and slowly stroked her
rich black hair. Marion looked up and smiled faintly. Then she seized
Florence's hand and began to sob nervously. "You love me, don't you
Florence; you love me, don't you?" she said between the sobs.

"You don't need to ask that, Marion."

"I know it," she replied; "I think you are the only person in the world
who understands me, the only person who loves me."

"You are wrong in that, my dear, I am sure."

"No, I am not," she moaned. "I want love, I must have love. O, I can't
live without it!"

Florence stroked Marion's head again, and tried to soothe her hysterical
sobbing. "Dear," she said softly, "there is one man who would die for
you if it would bring you happiness. I am sure of it."

Marion turned her head away and did not reply. Florence felt pity for
her friend's unhappy state of mind, which she considered was, in a great
measure, self-produced, but she knew it was useless to talk to Marion
about her husband, as she was a woman who could not be influenced by
persuasive words. Florence wanted to help her friend to understand the
danger she was in, but she could not see a way which promised success;
so, thinking that the best course was to divert her mind from herself,
she took Marion's hand and said cheerfully, "I have a secret to tell
you, dear, but you must sit up and look pleased."

"I hope it is interesting," said Marion somewhat mournfully. "I haven't