ands together and looked at his wife.

"That woman? Belle Worthington? What _do_ you mean, any way?"

"I don't mean Belle Worthington," she said excitedly, with two deep
red spots in her cheeks. "I'm talking about Mrs. Laferm."

He thrust his hand into his pockets and leaned back in his chair. No
amazement now, but very pale, and with terrible concentration of
glance.

"Well, then, don't talk about Mrs. Lafirme," he said very slowly, not
taking his eyes from her face.

"I will talk about her, too. She ain't worth talking about," she
blurted incoherently. "It's time for somebody to talk about a woman
passing herself off for a saint, and trying to take other women's
husbands--"

"Shut up!" cried Hosmer maddened with sudden fury, and rising
violently from his chair.

"I won't shut up," Fanny cried excitedly back at him; rising also.
"And what's more I won't stay here and have you making love under my
very eyes to a woman that's no better than she ought to be."

She meant to say more, but Hosmer grasped her arm with such a grasp,
that had it been her throat she would never have spoken more. The
other hand went to his pocket, with fingers clutching the clasp knife
there.

"By heaven--I'll--kill you!" every word weighted with murder, panted
close in her terrified face. What she would have uttered died upon her
pale lips, when her frightened eyes beheld the usually calm face of
her husband distorted by a passion of which she had not dreamed.

"David," she faltered, "let go my arm."

Her voice broke the spell that held him, and brought him again to his
senses. His fingers slowly relaxed their tense hold. A sigh that was
something between a moan and a gasp came with his deliverance and
shook him. All the horror now was in his own face as he seized his hat
and hurried speechless away.

Fanny remained for a little while dazed. Hers was not the fine nature
that would stay cruelly stunned after such a scene. Her immediate
terror being past, the strongest resultant emotion was one of
self-satisfaction at having spoken out her mind.

But there was a stronger feeling yet, moving and possessing her;
crowding out every other. A pressing want that only Sampson's coming
would relieve, and which bade fair to drive her to any extremity if it
were not appeased.

XV

A Fateful Solution.

Hosmer passed the day with a great pain at his heart. His hasty and
violent passion of the morning had added another weight for