Do you mean she's not as--pretty, Frank?"

"Oh, I don't know," he answered. "It's because I love you, dear. Aleta's
right enough. But she's not--oh, you know--essential."

Bertha squeezed his arm. Was silent for a moment. Then, "Aleta's father
was a circus rider?"

"Acrobat. Yes, he was killed when she was quite a child."

"But she remembers him; they were married, her mother" and he."

"Why, yes, I suppose so ... naturally."

There was another silence. Suddenly he turned on her, perplexed.
"Bertha, what is wrong with you tonight?"

They were crossing a little park high up above the city whose lights
lay, shimmering and misty, below. The stillness was obtrusive here. Not
a leaf stirred. There was no one about. They might have been alone upon
some tropic peak.

"I--can't tell you, Frank." Her tone of blended longing and despair
caught at his heart.

Impetuously his arms went around her. "Dear," he said unsteadily. "Dear,
I want you.... Oh, Bertha, I've waited so long! I don't care any more if
you're rich ... I'm going to--you've got to promise...."

She tried to protest, to push him away; but Frank held her close. And,
after a moment, like a tired child's, her head lay quiet on his
shoulder; her arms stole round his neck; she began to weep softly.

* * * * *

The horror came at dawn.

Frank, startled from a late and restless slumber, thought that he was
being shaken or attacked by some intruder. He sprang up, sleepily
bewildered. The room rocked with a quick, sharp, jerking motion that was
strangely terrifying. There was a dull indescribable rumbling,
punctuated by a sound of falling things. A typewriter in one end of the
room went over on the floor. A shaving mug danced on the shelf and fell.
The windows rattled and a picture on the wall swayed drunkenly.

"Damn!" Frank rubbed his eyes. "An earthquake!"

He heard his mother's scream; his father's reassuring answer. Hurriedly
he reached for his clothes. Downstairs he found his father endeavoring
to calm the frightened servants, one of whom appeared to have hysterics.
Presently his mother entered with the smelling salts. Soon the maid's
unearthly laughter ceased.

"Anyone hurt?" Frank questioned anxiously.

"No," his father answered. "Thought the house was going over ... but
there's little damage done."

Suddenly Frank thought of Bertha. He must go to her. She would be
frightened.

He ran into the debris-cluttered str