results from intense excitement when it has
become the habit of day after day.

"Mallard has been talking to you," he said suddenly.

"Why do you say that?"

"I know he has, from your letter.--Look at the views!"

"What plans did you speak of?"

"Oh, we'll talk about it afterwards. But Mallard _has_ been talking you
over?"

Miriam had no resolve by which to guide herself. She knew not
distinctly why she had come to Capri. Her familiar self-reliance and
cold disregard of anything but a few plain rules in regulating her
conduct, were things of the past. She felt herself idly swayed by
conflicting influences, unable even to debate what course she should
take; the one emotion of which she was clearly conscious was of so
strange and disturbing a kind that, so far from impelling her to act,
it seemed merely to destroy all her customary motives and leave her
subject to the will of others. It was the return of weakness such as
had possessed her mind when she lay ill, when she was ceaselessly
troubled with a desire for she knew not what, and, unable to utter it
had no choice but to admit the suggestions and biddings of those who
cared for her. She could not even resent this language of Reuben's, to
which formerly she would have opposed her unyielding pride; his
proximity infected her with nervousness, but at the same time made her
flaccid before his energy.

"He came and spoke to me about you," she admitted. "But he left me to
do as I saw fit."

"After putting the case against me as strongly as it could be put. I
know; you needn't tell me anything about the conversation. Let us leave
it till afterwards.--You see how this road winds, so that the incline
may be gentle enough for carriages. There are stony little paths, just
like the beds of mountain streams, going straight down to the Marina. I
lost myself again and again yesterday among the gardens and vineyards.
Look back over the bay to Naples!"

But in a minute or two the other subject was resumed, again with a
suddenness that told of inability to keep from speaking his thoughts.

"You understand, I dare say, why Mallard is making such a fuss?"

"How could I help understanding?"

"But _do_ you understand?"

"What do you mean?" she asked irritably.

"Does he speak like a man who is disinterested?"

"It is not my business to discuss Mr. Mallard's motives."

"It certainly is mine--and yours too, if you care anything for me."

They reached the hotel without f