ke him, who are assailed by a certain madness, are best left alone
with it. That is why I came to you to bargain, if I could. Is there
anything that you lack--anything which your own success and your lover,
or lovers, have failed to provide for you?"

It was useless to try to rise; she was powerless in all her limbs. Side
by side with the anger and horror that his words aroused was a sense of
something almost grotesque, something which seemed to force an unnatural
laugh from her lips.

"So you want to buy me off?"

"I should be glad to believe that it was within my power to do so. I
have not John's great fortune, but I have money, the accumulated savings
of a lifetime, for which I have no better purpose. There is one more
thing, too, to be said."

"Another charge?"

"Not that," he told her; "only it is better for you to understand that
if you turn me from your house this morning, I shall still feel the
necessity of saving my brother from you."

"Saving him from me?" she exclaimed, rising suddenly and throwing out
her arms. "Do you know what you are talking about? Do you know that if I
consented to think of your brother as my husband, there is not a man in
London who would not envy him? Look at me! I am beautiful, am I not? I
am a great artist. I am Louise Maurel, and I have made myself famous by
my own work and my own genius. What has your brother done in life to
render him worthy of the sacrifice I should make if I chose to give him
my hand? You had better go back to Cumberland, Mr. Strangewey. You do
not see life as we see it up here!"

"And what about John?" he asked, without moving. "You tempted him away.
Was it from wantonness, or do you love him?"

"Love him?" she laughed. "I hate you both! You are boors--you are
ignorant people. I hate the moment I ever saw either of you. Take John
back with you. Take him out of my life. There is no place there for
him!"

Stephen picked up his hat from the sofa where it lay. Louise remained
perfectly still, her breath coming quickly, her eyes lit with passion.

"Madam," he said, "I am sorry to have distressed you, but the truth
sometimes hurts the most callous of us. You have heard the truth from
me. I will take John back to Cumberland with me, if he will come. If he
will not--"

"Take him with you!" she broke in fiercely. "He will do as I bid him--do
you hear? If I lift my little finger, he will stay. It will be I who
decide, I--"

"But you will not lift your lit