magnetic
attraction; divided, as to her character; but fiercely and venomously
antagonistic in one mean, little heart.

Emily and Mary and Lady Betty Burns clustered together in the latter's
room. "We think she is perfectly lovely, Betty," Emily said, "but we
don't know her as yet. She is rather stiff, and frightens us just a
little. Perhaps she is shy. What do you think?"

"She looks just like the heroines in some of the books that Mamma does
not let me read and I am obliged to take up to bed with me. Don't you
know, Mary--especially the one I lent you--deeply, mysteriously tragic.
You remember the one who killed her husband and then went off with the
Italian Count; and then with some one else. It was frightfully
exciting."

"Good gracious! Betty," exclaimed Emily. "How dreadful! You don't think
our sister-in-law looks like that?"

"I really don't know," said Lady Betty, who was nineteen and wrote lurid
melodramas--to the waste of much paper and the despair of her mother. "I
don't know. I made one of my heroines in my last play have just those
passionate eyes--and she stabbed the villain in the second act!"

"Yes, but," said Mary, who felt she must defend Tristram's wife, "Zara
isn't in a play and there is no villain, and--why, Betty, no one has
tragedies in real life!"

Lady Betty tossed her flaxen head, while she announced a prophecy, with
an air of deep wisdom which positively frightened the other two girls.

"You mark my words, both of you, Emily and Mary--they will have some
tragedy before the year is out! And I shall put it all in my next play."

And with this fearful threat ringing in their ears Tristram's two
sisters walked in a scared fashion to their room.

"Betty is wonderful, isn't she, darling?" Mary said. "But, Em, you don't
think there is any truth in it, do you? Mother would be so horribly
shocked if there was anything like one of Betty's plays in the family,
wouldn't she? And Tristram would never allow it either!"

"Of course not, you goosie," answered Emily. "But Betty is right in one
way--Zara has got a mysterious face, and--and, Mary--Tristram seemed
somehow changed, I thought; rather sarcastic once or twice."

And then their maid came in and put a stop to their confidences.

* * * * *

"She is the most wonderful person I have ever met, Ethelrida," Lady
Anningford was just then saying, as she and the hostess stopped at her
door and let Lady Thornby and