oldest earldoms in
England, to marry! Bee, the insult is unpardonable! You might as well
advise me to marry my father's footman! and better, for Powers came at
least of honest parents!" said Claudia, speaking in the mad, reckless,
defiant way in which those conscious of a bad argument passionately
defend their point.

For a few moments Bee seemed speechless with indignation. Then she burst
forth vehemently:

"It is false! as false as the Father of Falsehood himself! When thorns
produce figs, or the deadly nightshade nectarines; when eaglets are
hatched in owls' nests and young lions spring from rat holes, then I may
believe these foul slanders of Ishmael and his parents. Shame on you,
Claudia Merlin, for repeating them! You have shown me much evil in your
heart to-night; but nothing so bad as that! Ishmael is nature's
gentleman! His mother must have been pure and lovely and loving! his
father good and wise and brave! else how could they have given this son
to the world! And did you forget, Claudia, when you spoke those cruel
words of him, did you forget that only a little while ago you admitted
that you loved him, and that all which was best in your nature approved
that love?"

"No, I did not and do not forget it! It was and it is true! But what of
that? I may not be able to help adoring him for his personal excellence!
But to be his wife--the wife of a--Horrible!"

"Have you forgotten, Claudia, that only a few minutes ago you said that
you could not conceive of a diviner happiness than to be the beloved
wife of Ishmael?"

"No, I have not forgotten it! And I spoke the truth! but that joy which
I could so keenly appreciate can never, never be mine! And that is the
secret of my madness--for I am mad, Bee! And, oh, I came here to-night
with my torn and bleeding heart--torn and bleeding from the dreadful
battle between love and pride--came here with my suffering heart; my
sinful heart if you will; and laid it on your bosom to be soothed; and
you have taken it and flung it back in my face! You have broken the
bruised reed; quenched the smoking flax; humbled the humble; smitten the
fallen! Oh, Bee, you have been more cruel than you know! Good-by!
Good-by!" And she turned and flung herself out of the room.

"Claudia, dear Claudia, oh, forgive me! I did not mean to wound you; if
I spoke harshly it was because I felt for both! Claudia, come back,
love!" cried Bee, hurrying after her; but Claudia was gone. Bee would
have