, and made idiots of themselves when they were alone with her.
She laughed at them to their faces, and mimicked them behind their
backs. Their friends said it was cleverly.

[Illustration: "SHE LAUGHED AT THEM."]

"One year there arrived a young English engineer, who had come out to
superintend some canal works. He brought with him satisfactory letters
of recommendation, and was at once received by the European residents as
a welcome addition to their social circle. He was not particularly
good-looking, he was not remarkably charming, but he possessed the one
thing that few women can resist in a man, and that is strength. The
woman looked at the man, and the man looked back at the woman; and the
drama began.

"Scandal flies swiftly through small communities. Before a month, their
relationship was the chief topic of conversation throughout the quarter.
In less than two, it reached the ears of the woman's husband.

"He was either an exceptionally mean or an exceptionally noble
character, according to how one views the matter. He worshipped his
wife--as men with big hearts and weak brains often do worship such
women--with dog-like devotion. His only dread was lest the scandal
should reach proportions that would compel him to take notice of it, and
thus bring shame and suffering upon the woman he would have given his
life to. That a man who saw her should love her seemed natural to him;
that she should have grown tired of himself, a thing not to be wondered
at. He was grateful to her for having once loved him, for a little
while.

"As for 'the other man,' he proved somewhat of an enigma to the
gossips. He attempted no secrecy; if anything, he rather paraded his
subjugation--or his conquest, it was difficult to decide which term to
apply. He rode and drove with her; visited her in public and in private
(in such privacy as can be hoped for in a house filled with chattering
servants, and watched by spying eyes); loaded her with expensive
presents, which she wore openly, and papered his smoking den with her
photographs. Yet he never allowed himself to appear in the least degree
ridiculous; never allowed her to come between him and his work. A letter
from her, he would lay aside unopened until he had finished what he
evidently regarded as more important business. When boudoir and
engine-shed became rivals, it was the boudoir that had to wait.

"The woman chafed under his self-control, which stung her like a lash,
but clun