ttle fool, if my opinion is worth having."

"You've said quite enough," Hazel cried. "If you have any more
insults, please get rid of them elsewhere. I think you are--"

"Oh, I don't care what you think of me," the girl interrupted
recklessly. "If I did I wouldn't be here. I'd hide behind the
conventional rules of the game and let you blunder along. But I can't.
I'm not gifted with your blind egotism. Whatever you are, that Bill of
yours loves you, and if you care anything for him, you should be with
him. I would, if I were lucky enough to stand in your shoes. I'd go
with him down into hell itself gladly if he wanted me to!"

"Oh!" Hazel gasped. "Are you clean mad?"

"Shocked to death, aren't you?" Vesta fleered. "You can't understand,
can you? I love him--yes. I'm not ashamed to own it. I'm no
sentimental prude to throw up my hands in horror at a perfectly natural
emotion. But he is not for me. I dare say I couldn't give him an
added heartbeat if I tried. And I have a little too much
pride--strange as it may seem to you--to try, so long as he is chained
hand and foot to your chariot. But you're making him suffer. And I
care enough to want him to live all his days happily. He is a man, and
there are so few of them, real men. If you can make him happy I'd
compel you to do so, if I had the power. You couldn't understand that
kind of a love. Oh, I could choke you for your stupid disloyalty. I
could do almost anything that would spur you to action. I can't rid
myself of the hopeless, reckless mood he was in. There are so few of
his kind, the patient, strong, loyal, square-dealing men, with a
woman's tenderness and a lion's courage. Any woman should be proud and
glad to be his mate, to mother his children. And you--"

She threw out her hands with a sudden, despairing gesture. The blue
eyes grew misty, and she hid her face in her palms. Before that
passionate outburst Hazel sat dumbly amazed, staring, uncertain. In a
second Vesta lifted her head defiantly.

"I had no notion of breaking out like this when I came up," she said
quietly. "I was going to be very adroit. I intended to give you a
friendly boost along the right road, if I could. But it has all been
bubbling inside me for a long time. You perhaps think it very
unwomanly--but I don't care much what you think. My little heartache
is incidental, one of the things life deals us whether we will or not.
But if you care in the least f