to that of all of us--without holding on to you and
dragging you back?'

'Oh, you don't understand anything about anything!' Selina wailed, with
her beautiful hair tumbling all over her.

'I certainly don't understand how you can give such a tremendous handle
to Lionel.'

At the mention of her husband's name Selina always gave a bound, and she
sprang up now, shaking back her dense braids. 'I give him no handle and
you don't know what you are talking about! I know what I am doing and
what becomes me, and I don't care if I do. He is welcome to all the
handles in the world, for all that he can do with them!'

'In the name of common pity think of your children!' said Laura.

'Have I ever thought of anything else? Have you sat up all night to have
the pleasure of accusing me of cruelty? Are there sweeter or more
delightful children in the world, and isn't that a little my merit,
pray?' Selina went on, sweeping away her tears. 'Who has made them what
they are, pray?--is it their lovely father? Perhaps you'll say it's you!
Certainly you have been nice to them, but you must remember that you
only came here the other day. Isn't it only for them that I am trying to
keep myself alive?'

This formula struck Laura Wing as grotesque, so that she replied with a
laugh which betrayed too much her impression, 'Die for them--that would
be better!'

Her sister, at this, looked at her with an extraordinary cold gravity.
'Don't interfere between me and my children. And for God's sake cease to
harry me!'

Laura turned away: she said to herself that, given that intensity of
silliness, of course the worst would come. She felt sick and helpless,
and, practically, she had got the certitude she both wanted and dreaded.
'I don't know what has become of your mind,' she murmured; and she went
to the door. But before she reached it Selina had flung herself upon her
in one of her strange but, as she felt, really not encouraging
revulsions. Her arms were about her, she clung to her, she covered
Laura with the tears that had again begun to flow. She besought her to
save her, to stay with her, to help her against herself, against _him_,
against Lionel, against everything--to forgive her also all the horrid
things she had said to her. Mrs. Berrington melted, liquefied, and the
room was deluged with her repentance, her desolation, her confession,
her promises and the articles of apparel which were detached from her by
the high tide of her agitatio