e could not be held within the circuit of
his wife's arms--and yet she could not give him up.

As her flesh lost its weight and her blood its warmth, her mind burned
with even more mysterious brightness, sending out rays of such perilous
sublimation that she was able to perceive, as no earthly inhabitant
should do, the jealously guarded secrets of those surrounding her, and
on the night of Bertha's struggle against her fate she divined in some
supersensuous way the tumult in the young wife's mind.

She laughed at first with a cruel, bitter delight, but at last her
nobler self conquered and she resolved to have private speech with
Haney. She perceived a danger in the ever-deepening passion of the young
lovers. She began to fear that their love might soon break over all
barriers, and this she was still sane enough of thought and generous
enough of soul to wish to prevent.

Her decision to act was hastened by a slurring paragraph in the morning
paper wherein veiled allusion was made to "a developing scandal." She
lay abed all the forenoon brooding over it, and when she rose it was to
dress for her visit to Haney. Sick as she was and almost hysterical with
her mood, she ordered a carriage and drove to the gambler's house,
hoping to find him alone, determined upon an interview.

It chanced that he was sitting in his place upon the porch watching the
gardener spraying a tree. He greeted his visitor most cordially,
inviting her to a seat. "Bertie is down town, but she'll be back soon."

"I'm glad she is away, Captain Haney, for I have something to say to you
alone."

"Have you, indeed? Very well, I've nothing to do but listen--'tis not
for me to boss the gardener."

She looked about with uneasy eyes, finding it very difficult to begin
her attack. "How much you've improved the place," she remarked,
irrelevantly, her voice betraying the deepest agitation.

He looked at her white face in astonishment. "How are ye, the day,
miss?"

"I'm better, thank you, but a little out of breath--I walked too fast, I
think."

"Does the altitude make your heart jump, too?" he asked, solicitously.

"No, my trouble is all in my mind--I mean my lungs," she answered. Then,
with a ghastly attempt at sprightliness, she added: "Now let's have a
nice long talk about symptoms--it's so comforting. How are _you_ feeling
these days?"

Haney answered with unwonted dejection. "I'm not so well to-day, worse
luck. This is me day for thinkin' the