well was no coward, else she had hesitated before speaking
in that way before this woman, in whose blood was the wildness of
the heroical North. Perhaps she guessed the passion in Lali's breast,
perhaps not. In any case she would have said what she listed at the
moment.

Wild as were the passions in Lali's breast, she thought on the instant
of her child, of what Richard Armour would say; for he had often talked
to her about not showing her emotions and passions, had told her that
violence of all kinds was not wise or proper. Her fingers ached to grasp
this beautiful, exasperating woman by the throat. But after an effort
at calmness she remained still and silent, looking at her visitor with
a scornful dignity. Lady Haldwell presently rose,--she could not endure
the furnace of that look,--and said good-bye. She turned towards the
door. Mrs. Armour remained immovable. At that instant, however, some one
stepped from behind a large screen just inside the door. It was Richard
Armour. He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like of
which this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. He
interrupted her.

"Lady Haldwell has a fine talent for irony," he said, "but she does not
always use it wisely. In a man it would bear another name, and from a
man it would be differently received." He came close to her. "You are a
brave woman," he said, "or you would have been more careful. Of course
you knew that my mother and sister were not at home?"

She smiled languidly. "And why 'of course'?"

"I do not know that; only I know that I think so; and I also think
that my brother Frank's worst misfortune did not occur when Miss Julia
Sherwood trafficked without compunction in his happiness."

"Don't be oracular, my dear Richard Armour," she replied. "You are
trying, really. This seems almost melodramatic; and melodrama is bad
enough at Drury Lane."

"You are not a good friend even to yourself," he answered.

"What a discoverer you are! And how much in earnest! Do come back to the
world, Mr. Armour; you would be a relief, a new sensation."

"I fancy I shall come back, if only to see the 'engineer hoist with his
own'--torpedo."

He paused before the last word to give it point, for her husband's
father had made his money out of torpedoes. She felt the sting in spite
of herself, and she saw the point.

"And then we will talk it over at the end of the season," he added, "and
compare notes. Good-afternoon."

"You