ssage delivered to me is the same in
effect as if given to her. I told her I did not think you would, as a
gentleman, wish to hold her to any promises that might be irksome to
her now."

These words were spoken with a coolness and maliciousness of good-nature
quite devilish, and August's fist involuntarily doubled itself to strike
him, if only to make him cease smiling in that villainous rectangular
way. But he checked himself.

"You are a puppy. Tell _that_ to Jule, if you choose. I shall send her a
release from all obligations, but not by the hand of a rascal!"

Like all desperadoes, Humphreys was a coward. He could shoot, but he
could not fight, and just now he was affecting the pious or at least the
high moral role, and had left his pistols, brandy-flasks, and the other
necessary appurtenances of a gentleman, locked in his trunk. Besides it
would not at all have suited his purpose to shoot. So in lieu of
shooting he only smiled, as August rode off, that same old geometric
smile, the elements of which were all calculated. He seemed incapable of
any other facial contortion. It expressed one emotion, indeed, about as
well as another, and was therefore as convenient as those pocket-knives
which affect to contain a chest of tools in one.

[Illustration: "TELL THAT TO JULE."]

Julia was already stung to jealousy by Betsey Malcolm's
mischief-making, and it did not require much more to put her into a
frenzy. As they walked home from meeting the next night--they had
meeting all nights now, the world would soon end and there was so much
to be done--as they walked home Humphreys contrived to separate Julia
from the rest, and to tell her that he had had a conversation with
young Wehle.

"It was painful, very painful," he said, "I think I had better not say
any more about it."

"Why?" asked Julia in terror.

"Well, I feel that your grief is mine. I have never felt so much
interest in any one before, and I must say that I was grievously
disappointed. This young man is not at all worthy of you."

"What do you mean?" And there was a trace of indignation in her tone.

"It does seem to me that the man who has your love should be the
happiest in the world; but he refused to send you any message, and says
that he will soon send you an entire release from all engagement to him.
He showed no tenderness and made no inquiry."

The weakest woman and the strongest can faint. It is a woman's last
resort. When all else is gone, t