be more cheerful and by the time we would
get back he would seem quite himself again.

"Since I have been lying here and thinking and thinking, Harry, dear,"
she stopped and hid her face and a shiver of shame passed over her
body. Henrietta's arms tightened about her and she whispered
soothing, loving words. "I've been thinking, dear," Isabella went on
brokenly, "that perhaps that was why he always stopped somewhere and
ordered a bottle of champagne. Because it did put me in such gay
spirits and, I suppose, made me more lively and just that much better
company. And that, I guess, was what he wanted. I never drank but
little, never more than a glass or two, and I couldn't see any harm in
it, though you did think I oughtn't. Sometimes I held back and asked
him if he thought I'd better, and he always laughed at me and urged me
on and made it seem silly in me to have scruples.

"But that last day--" again she stopped and broke into a passion of
sobbing that took all of Henrietta's loving sympathy and tenderness to
soothe. "You asked me not to go again," she went on after a while in
trembling tones, "and when he came mother, too, thought I'd better
not. Oh, Harry, how I wish I had heeded you and refused to go! I could
have made some excuse, and then--Oh, Harry, Harry, I don't want to
live any longer!"

"There, there, darling!" soothed her sister. "Try to control yourself
and tell me all that happened. I'm sure it couldn't have been anything
so very bad. Tell me all about it, dear, and then you'll feel better."

"Mr. Brand seemed so different from what he used to be," she presently
went on, "and I began to understand what you told us about the change
in him. I was just a little afraid after we started, he seemed to be
in such an ugly temper and, oh, Harry, what a bad man he looks now!
I begged him to bring me home again after a little while, but he
wouldn't and said his business was too important to be put aside for
my whims.

"I was a little frightened and a good deal anxious and so of course I
wasn't as gay as usual, and that seemed to make him angry. Then he
said we'd stop and have some wine and I thought perhaps it would be
best to humor him and then maybe I could persuade him to bring me
home. I meant not to drink more than a glass, but he made me--perhaps
he thought it would make me more lively. Anyway, he was so rough in
his manner and looks and there was such an angry gleam in his eyes
that I was too frightened