spoken. Marcia suddenly saw herself standing
there in Kate's rightful place, Kate's things in her hands, Kate's
garments upon her body, Kate's husband held by her. It was as if Kate
charged her with all these things, as she looked her through and over,
from her slipper tips to the ruffle around the neck. And oh, the scorn
that flamed from Kate's eyes playing over her, and scorching her cheeks
into crimson, and burning her lips dry and stiff! And yet when Kate's eyes
reached her face and charged her with the supreme offense of taking David
from her, Marcia's eyes looked bravely back, and were not burned by the
fire, and she felt that her soul was not even scorched by it. Something
about the thought of David like an angelic presence seemed to save her.

The silence between them was so intense that nothing else could be heard
by the two. The voices below were drowned by it, the footstep on the stair
was as if it were not.

At last Kate spoke, angered still more by her sister's soft eyes which
gazed steadily back and did not droop before her own flashing onslaught.
Her voice was cold and cruel. There was nothing sisterly in it, nothing to
remind either that the other had ever been beloved.

"Fool!" hissed Kate. "Silly fool! Did you think you could steal a husband
as you stole your clothes? Did you suppose marrying David would make him
yours, as putting on my clothes seemed to make them yours? Well I can tell
you he will never be a husband to you. He doesn't love you and he never
can. He will always love me. He's as much mine as if I had married him, in
spite of all your attempts to take him. Oh, you needn't put up your baby
mouth and pucker it as if you were going to cry. Cry away. It won't do any
good. You can't make a man yours, any more than you can make somebody's
clothes yours. They don't fit you any more than he does. You look horrid
in blue, and you know it, in spite of all your prinking around and
pretending. I'd be ashamed to be tricked out that way and know that every
dud I had was made for somebody else. As for going around and pretending
you have a husband--it's a lie. You know he's nothing to you. You know he
never told you he cared for you. I tell you he's mine, and he always will
be."

"Kate, you're married!" cried Marcia in shocked tones. "How can you talk
like that?"

"Married! Nonsense! What difference does that make? It's hearts that
count, not marriages. Has your marriage made you a wife? Answer me