ppose that fascination is employed over a man by women
that have no right thus to use their power?"

"Then the legitimate possessor of that right is still at fault. If
fascination is the bond by which the man can be held, why does she not
make use of it herself? A face of statuesque beauty that knows not how
to smile has often been the cause of untold unhappiness."

At these words the younger of the two ladies threw back her veil,
perhaps to gain a better view of the speaker, and thus revealed just
such a face as the young man had referred to,--a face with large blue
eyes and silent lips.

"Would you, then," the elder lady continued the discussion with some
warmth, "have a wife employ the wiles of a coquette toward her own
husband, in order to retain his love?"

"I see no reason why she should not if circumstances demand it."

"Very good. But you must admit that a wife is something more than a
sweetheart; maternal duties and cares also enter into her life, and
when, by reason of her exalted mission as a mother, anxieties and fears
will, in spite of her, depict themselves on her face, what then becomes
of your pretty theory?"

The attack was becoming too warm for the young stranger, and he hastened
to capitulate with a good grace. "In that case, madam," he admitted,
"the husband is bound to show his wife nothing but the purest devotion
and affection. The Roman lictors were, by the consul's orders, required
to lower their fasces before a Roman matron; she was undisputed mistress
in her sphere. The man who refuses to render the humblest of homage to
the mother of his children deserves to have a millstone hung about his
neck and to be cast into the sea."

The blond lady seemed softened by this unconditional surrender. "Are you
on your way to Rome, may I ask?" she presently inquired, her question
being apparently suggested by the other's reference to ancient Roman
customs.

"Yes, that is my destination," he replied.

"You go to witness the splendid ceremonies of Holy Week, I infer."

"No; they do not interest me."

"What!" exclaimed the lady; "the sublimest of our Church observances,
that which symbolises the very divinity of our Saviour, does not
interest you?"

"No; because I do not believe in his divinity," was the calm reply.

The lady raised her eyebrows in involuntary token of surprise at this
most unexpected answer. She suddenly felt a strong desire to fathom the
mysterious stranger. "I believe the Vat