ked at it afresh and yielded now to her
impulse to feel it in her hands. She laid them on it, lifting it up, and
was surprised, thus, with the weight of it--she had seldom handled so
much massive gold. That effect itself somehow prompted her to further
freedom and presently to saying: "I don't believe in this, you know."

It brought Maggie round to her. "Don't believe in it? You will when I
tell you."

"Ah, tell me nothing! I won't have it," said Mrs. Assingham. She kept
the cup in her hand, held it there in a manner that gave Maggie's
attention to her, she saw the next moment, a quality of excited
suspense. This suggested to her, oddly, that she had, with the liberty
she was taking, an air of intention, and the impression betrayed by
her companion's eyes grew more distinct in a word of warning. "It's of
value, but its value's impaired, I've learned, by a crack."

"A crack?--in the gold--?"

"It isn't gold." With which, somewhat strangely, Maggie smiled.

"That's the point."

"What is it then?"

"It's glass--and cracked, under the gilt, as I say, at that."

"Glass?--of this weight?"

"Well," said Maggie, "it's crystal--and was once, I suppose, precious.
But what," she then asked, "do you mean to do with it?"

She had come away from her window, one of the three by which the wide
room, enjoying an advantageous "back," commanded the western sky and
caught a glimpse of the evening flush; while Mrs. Assingham, possessed
of the bowl, and possessed too of this indication of a flaw, approached
another for the benefit of the slowly-fading light. Here, thumbing the
singular piece, weighing it, turning it over, and growing suddenly more
conscious, above all, of an irresistible impulse, she presently spoke
again. "A crack? Then your whole idea has a crack."

Maggie, by this time at some distance from her, waited a moment. "If you
mean by my idea the knowledge that has come to me THAT--"

But Fanny, with decision, had already taken her up. "There's only one
knowledge that concerns us--one fact with which we can have anything to
do."

"Which one, then?"

"The fact that your husband has never, never, never--!" But the very
gravity of this statement, while she raised her eyes to her friend
across the room, made her for an instant hang fire.

"Well, never what?"

"Never been half so interested in you as now. But don't you, my dear,
really feel it?"

Maggie considered. "Oh, I think what I've told you helps me to fee