to believe in duelling, but she was
far too womanly to be pleased with Reanda's indifference. It was wicked
to fight duels and unchristian to seek revenge. She knew that, and it
was a conviction as well as an opinion. But a man who allowed another to
take his wife from him and did not resent the injury could not command
her respect. Something in her blood revolted against such tameness,
though she would not for all the world have had Reanda take Gloria back.
Between the two opposites of conviction and instinct, she did not know
what to do. Moreover, Reanda had struck his wife. He admitted it, though
apologetically and with every extenuating circumstance which he could
remember.

"Yes," he answered. "I know that I did wrong. Am I infallible? Holy
Saint Patience! I could bear no more. But it is clear that she was
waiting for a reason for leaving me. I gave it to her, and she should be
grateful. She also is free, as I am."

"It is horrible!" exclaimed Francesca, with sorrowful emphasis.

She blamed herself quite as much as Reanda or Gloria, because she had
brought them together and had suggested the marriage. Reanda's thin
shoulders went up, and he smiled incredulously.

"I do not see what is so horrible," he answered. "Two people think they
are in love. They marry. They discover their mistake. They separate.
Well? It is finished. Let us make the sign of the cross over it."

The common Roman phrase, signifying that a matter is ended and buried,
as it were, jarred upon Francesca, for whom the smallest religious
allusion had a real meaning.

"It is not the sign of the cross which should be made," she said sadly
and gravely, and the colour was gone from her face now. "There are two
lives wrecked, and a human soul in danger. We cannot say that it is
finished, and pass on."

"What would you have me do?" asked Reanda, almost impatiently. "Take her
back?"

"No!" exclaimed Francesca, with a sharp intonation as though she were
hurt.

"Well, then, what? I do not see that anything is to be done. She herself
can think of her soul. It is her property. She has made me suffer
enough--let some one else suffer. I have enough of it."

"You will forgive her some day," said Francesca. "You are angry still,
and you speak cruelly. You will forgive her."

"Never," answered Reanda, with emphasis. "I will not forgive her for
what she made me bear, any more than I will forgive Griggs for receiving
her when she left me. I will not tou