"I hardly see Mona as the 'soul' of anything," the girl replied. "But have they made no sound? Have you heard nothing at all?" "He recognized rot! You know what I think of him." Fleda knew; she had no wish to challenge a fresh statement. Mrs. Gereth made one—it was her sole, faint flicker of passion—to the extent of declaring that he was too abjectly weak to deserve the name of a man. For all Fleda cared!—it was his weakness she loved in him. "He took strange ways of pleasing you!" her friend went on. "There was no obligation till suddenly, the other day, the situation changed."!

Here was a faint illumination with which Mrs. Gereth instantly mingled her fire. "You dear old wretch!" she exclaimed; and she again, with ferocity, embraced her young friend. Fleda stopped in front of her hostess. "I gave him my opinion that you're very logical, very obstinate, and very proud."

"I made a point of letting Mona know that I should be here, don't you see? That's exactly what I wrote her this morning." "And how does she take it?" "What do you want of him," Fleda sadly asked, "feeling as you do to both of us?"