time, and she could only realize that she was helpless, bound hand and
foot in this man's power.

It was he who spoke first. In the smaller crises of life it is usually
the woman who takes this privilege upon herself; but the larger
situations need a man's steadier grasp.

"My dear lady," he said, "if you are content to take my friendship as it
is, it is yours. But I warn you it is no showy drawing-room article.
There will be no compliments, no pretty speeches, no little gifts of
flowers, and such trumpery amenities. It will all be very solid and
middle-aged, like myself."

"You think," returned the lady, "that I am fit for nothing better than
pretty speeches and compliments and floral offerings?"

She broke off with a forced little laugh, and awaited his verdict with
defiant eyes upraised. He returned the gaze through his placid
spectacles; her beauty, in its setting of brilliant dress and furniture,
soft lights, flowers, and a thousand feminine surroundings, failed to
dazzle him.

"I do," he said quietly.

"And yet you offer me your friendship?"

He bowed in acquiescence.

"Why?" she asked.

"For Paul's sake, my dear lady."

She shrugged her shoulders and turned away from him.

"Of course," she said, "it is quite easy to be rude. As it happens, it
is precisely for Paul's sake that I took the trouble of speaking to you
on this matter. I do not wish him to be troubled with such small
domestic affairs; and therefore, if we are to live under the same roof,
I shall deem it a favor if you will, at all events, conceal your
disapproval of me."

He bowed gravely and kept silence. Etta sat with a little patch of color
on either cheek, looking into the fire until the door was opened and
Maggie came in.

Steinmetz went toward her with his grave smile, while Etta hid a face
which had grown haggard.

Maggie glanced from one to the other with frank interest. The
relationship between these two had rather puzzled her of late.

"Well," said Steinmetz, "and what of St. Petersburg?"

"I am not disappointed," replied Maggie. "It is all I expected and more.
I am not blasee like Etta. Every thing interests me."

"We were discussing Petersburg when you came in," said Steinmetz,
drawing forward a chair. "The princess does not like it. She complains
of--nerves."

"Nerves!" exclaimed Maggie, turning to her cousin. "I did not suspect
you of having them."

Etta smiled, a little wearily.

"One never knows," she answere