"Yes; I will care for your Franz; bless your Franz," said Gregory, with
tears, his lips on her hand.

"He came to me like an angel that morning," Karen said in her breath of
voice; "and he has been like a beautiful mother to me; he has taken care
of me like a mother. It was on the headland over Falmouth--that he came.
Oh, Gregory," she turned her face to her husband's breast, "the birds
were beginning to sing and I thought that I should never see you again."

CHAPTER XLVIII

When the door had shut behind Gregory, Madame von Marwitz spoke, her
eyes still closed:

"Am I now permitted to rise?"

Mrs. Talcott released her ankles and stood up.

"You've made a pretty spectacle of yourself, Mercedes," she remarked as
Madame von Marwitz raised herself with extraordinary stateliness. "I've
seen you behave like you were a devil before, but I never saw you behave
like you were quite such a fool. What made you fight him and bite him
like that? What did you expect to gain by it I'd like to know? As if you
could keep that strong young man from his wife."

Madame von Marwitz had walked to the small mirror over the mantelpiece
and was adjusting her hair. Her face, reflected between a blue and gold
shepherd and shepherdess holding cornucopias of dried honesty, was still
ashen, but she possessed all her faculties. "This is to kill Karen," she
now said. "And yours will be the responsibility."

"Taken," Mrs. Talcott replied, but with no facetiousness.

Several of the large tortoiseshell pins that held Madame von Marwitz's
abundant locks were scattered on the floor. She turned and looked for
them, stooped and picked them up. Then returning to the mirror she
continued, awkwardly, to twist up and fasten her hair. She was
unaccustomed to doing her own hair and even the few days without a maid
had given her no facility.

Mrs. Talcott watched her for a moment and then remarked: "You're getting
it all screwed round to one side, Mercedes. You'd better let me do it
for you."

Madame von Marwitz for a moment made no reply. Her eyes fixed upon her
own mirrored eyes, she continued to insert the pins with an air of
stubborn impassivity; but when a large loop fell to her neck she allowed
her arms to drop. She sank upon a chair and, still with unflawed
stateliness, presented the back of her head to Mrs. Talcott's skilful
manipulations. Mrs. Talcott, in silence, wreathed and coiled and pinned
and the beautiful head resumed its usua