they were
alone after dinner was over she prepared herself to hear the story.
Instead, Lydia said, "I'm going to the opera on Friday, Nell--Samson and
Delilah. Will you come with me?"

There was a little pause, a slight constraint. Then Eleanor answered
that she couldn't; that she had a box of her own that someone had sent
her. Lydia sprang up with a sudden, short, wild laugh.

"That man's going with you!" she said.

"Mr. O'Bannon? Yes, he is." Eleanor thought a second. "I'll put him off,
Lydia. I'll tell him not to come."

"You'll do nothing of the kind. It's perfect. I don't know what got into
me the other day, Eleanor. You must have despised me for such pitiful
cowardice."

"No, my dear," said Eleanor slowly, but obviously relieved that the
question had come up again. "But I did feel that you weren't going to
work the best way to get the poison of the whole thing out of your
soul."

Lydia laughed the same way again.

"Oh, don't worry about that! I shall get rid of the poison."

"How?"

"I shall make him suffer. I shall revenge myself, and then forget he
exists. You can tell him so if you want."

Eleanor stared in front of her, blank and serious. Then she said, "I
don't have many opportunities any more. I seldom see him."

Lydia's eyes brightened.

"Ah, you've found him out!"

"On the contrary, the longer I know him the more highly I think of him.
I don't see him because he's busy. He has been having a difficult
time--in business. He decided to get out of politics and go into
straight law. New York is like a ferocious monster to a man beginning
any profession. Dan--but it doesn't matter. His troubles are over now."

"Are they indeed?" said Lydia.

"Yes, he's had a wonderful offer of a partnership from an older man
who----Oh, Lydia, you ought to try to see that your point of view about
him is a prejudiced--a natural one, but still----"

"Is it a definite offer, Eleanor?"

"Yes, absolutely, though the papers are not to be signed for a day or
so."

Lydia breathed in thoughtfully "A day or so," and Eleanor pressed on.

"It isn't that I care what you think of him or he of you. I'm past that
with my friends, and, as I say, I don't see nearly as much of him as I
used to; but----"

"Of course you don't," answered Lydia. "He's ashamed--or, no, it's more
that he can't bear to see himself in contrast with your perfect
integrity, Eleanor. Did you know that he came to prison to see me, to
gloat over me?