nce, but when Louise had gone in search of the
motor-veil she remarked in a low but imperative voice: "You'll get out
at the roadside and wait for me, that's what you'll do. I won't have you
along when I meet Karen. She couldn't bear the sight of you."

"Peace!" Madame von Marwitz commanded, adjusting the sash of her
tea-gown. "I shall see Karen. The deplorable misunderstanding of last
night shall be set right. Her behaviour has been undignified and
underhanded; but I misunderstood her, and, pierced to the heart by the
treachery of a man I trusted, I spoke wildly, without thought. Karen
will understand. I know my Karen."

It was not the moment for dispute. Louise had re-entered with the veil
and Madame von Marwitz bound it about her head, standing before the
mirror, and gazing at herself, fixedly and unseeingly, with dark eyes
set in purpled orbits. She turned then and swept from the room, and Mrs.
Talcott, pinning on her hat as she went, followed her.

Not until they were speeding through the fresh, chill air, did Mrs.
Talcott speak. Madame von Marwitz, leaning to one side of the open car,
scanned the stretch of road before them, melancholy and monotonous under
the pale morning sky, and Mrs. Talcott, moving round determinedly in her
corner, faced her.

"I want to tell you, right now, Mercedes," said Mrs. Talcott, "that
Karen's done with you. There's no use in your coming, for you'll never
get her back. I've told her all about you, Mercedes;--yes, I ain't
afraid of you and you know it;--I told her. I made up my mind to it last
night after I'd seen you and heard all your shameful story and how you'd
treated her. I made up my mind that you shouldn't get hold of her again,
not if I could help it. The time had come to tell that child that her
husband was right all along and that you ain't a woman to be trusted.
She'd seen for herself what you could do, and I made a sure thing of it.
I've held my tongue for all my life, but I spoke out last night. I want
her to be quit of you for good. I want her to go back to her husband.
Yes, Mercedes; I've burst up the whole concern."

Madame von Marwitz, her hand holding tightly the side of the car and her
eyes like large, dark stones in her white face, was sitting upright and
was staring at her. She could not speak and Mrs. Talcott went on.

"She knows all about you now; about you and Baldwin Tanner and you and
Ernst, and about that pitiful young Russian. She knows how you treated