l rest," she answered, "as soon as my boy is settled."

That very day I wrote Carlotta telling her about mother's health and
asking her to change the date of our wedding to the first week in
August, then just under a month away. She telegraphed me to come and
talk it over.

She was at the station in her phaeton to meet me. We had not driven far
before I felt and saw that she was intensely irritated against me. As I
unburdened my mind of my anxieties about mother, she listened coldly.
And I had to wait a long time before I got her answer, in a strained
voice and with averted eyes: "Of course, I'm sorry your mother isn't
well, but I can't get ready that soon."

It was not her words that exasperated me; the lightning of speech from
the storm-clouds of anger tends to clear the air. It was her expression.

Never have I known any one who could concentrate into brows and eyes and
chin and lips more of that sullen and aggressive obstinacy which is the
climax of provocativeness. Patience, in thought at least, with refusal
has not been one of my virtues. This refusal of hers, this denial of
happiness to one who had deserved so much and had received so little,
set temper to working in me like a quick poison. But I was silent, not
so much from prudence as from inability to find adequate words.

"I can't do it," repeated Carlotta, "and I won't." She made it clear
that she meant the "won't,"--that she was bent upon a quarrel.

But in my struggle to train those stanchest of servants and maddest of
masters, the passions, I had got at least far enough always to choose
both the time and the ground of a quarrel. So I said: "Very well,
Carlotta. Then, that is settled." And with an air sufficiently deceptive
to pass muster before angry eyes, I proceeded to talk of indifferent
matters.

As I sat beside her, my temper glowering in the straining leash, I
revolved her conduct and tried to puzzle out its meaning. It is clear,
thought I, that she does not care for me as people about to marry
usually profess to care. Then, does she wish to break the engagement?

That tamed my anger instantly.

Yes, I thought on, she wishes to be free--to free me. And, as my combine
is formed and my career well advanced in the way to being established,
what reason is there for trying to prevent her from freeing herself?
None--for I can easily explain the situation to mother. "Yes," I
concluded, "you can avoid a quarrel, can remain friends with Carlotta,
c