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 PUBLISHER 
 NEWYORl^ 
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 ■With ;icconimndatiori.3 for about five hundred guests, is an 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
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 https://archive.org/details/nnadamsapphira01salt 
 
Madam Sapphira 
 
 A Fifth Avenue Story 
 
 BY 
 
 EDGAE SALTUS 
 
 7. TEXXYSOX NEELY, 
 PUBLISHER, 
 Xew York. Chicago. 
 
Copyright 1893 
 
 BY 
 
 EDGAR EVERTSON-SALTUS. 
 
Madam Sapphira 
 
BY MR. SALTUS. 
 
 The Pace that Kills, 
 
 A Transaction in Hearts, 
 
 The Truth ahout Tristrem Yarick, 
 Mr. IncouPs Misadventure, 
 A Transient Guest, 
 Eden, 
 
 Mary Magdalen. 
 
 HISTORY. 
 Imperial Purple. 
 
 ORNAMnNTAI^ I'BSSIMISM. 
 The Anatomy of Negation. 
 
 The Philosophy of Disenchantment. 
 Love and Lore. 
 
 TRA.NSL,ATIONS INTRO- 
 DUCTIONS. 
 
 After Dinner Stories. 
 
 Tales Before Supper. 
 
 A Story without a Name. 
 
 IN PREPARATION. 
 Prince Charming. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA, 
 
 I. 
 
 " I TOLD my father that you expected to make 
 a hundred thousand this year. He said he 
 didn't believe in miracles." 
 
 It was Mrs. Carol Nevius who, from the head 
 of the dinner -table, addressed her husband. 
 
 ''Did he though! That's odd, seeing that it 
 has taken a succession of them to keep him out 
 of Sing-Sing." 
 
 Mrs. Nevius laughed. She was a pretty lit- 
 tle woman, very well dressed, with a noticeably 
 good manner. And as she laughed it was evi- 
 dent that her father was not one who inspired 
 respect. 
 
 " But if you do," she insisted, " if you 
 
6 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 md,ke a lot, you will let me entertain, won't 
 you?" 
 
 Nevius shook his head. No, not though it 
 were millions. In the now remote bachelor 
 days he had his fill of society, and while it is 
 colloquial to maintain that those who do not 
 care for socie<ty are those for whom society 
 does not care, in his case the argument was in- 
 valid. He was too busy to fatigue himself 
 further with futilities and late hours. 
 
 His wife was not. She was essentially so- 
 cial, schemingly so, with a dream unfulfilled, 
 yet, perhaps still fulfillable of leadership in the 
 upper four, and so exasperating did her hus- 
 band's disinclination for any form of entertain- 
 ment seem to her, that had you confessed her 
 privately and apart she would have declared 
 illicit commerce as nothing in comparison. 
 
 But this v/as natural. Not until her engage- 
 ment was announced did society become aware 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 9 
 
 of her existence. Born a Snaith, her people 
 were believed to be rich and known to be com- 
 mon. Her father was an old person of both 
 sexes — possessed of all the vices of woman and 
 none of the virtues of man — a Wall street rat 
 who told untenable stories and insisted on 
 morning prayers. His wife, it was rumored, 
 was of better stock, and in reviewing the docu- 
 ments, it s-eems difficult for her not to have 
 been. But she had little to boast of. She 
 Avas a bloodless creature, with a deprecatory- 
 manner and a total inability to look you in the 
 face. 
 
 To these people two children had been born, 
 both girls. The elder, Frances, became in 
 time the wife of young Montrion w^ho promptly 
 landed her in a set which, while not censorious, 
 has a curious habit of closing its doors on 
 women who leave their own wide open. In 
 what manner and through what circumstances 
 
10 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 Mrs. Montrion became negligent in regard to 
 her vestibule is not a matter with which the 
 telling of the accompanying episode need be 
 delayed. SuflSce it to say that after being 
 urged from one end of the avenue to the other 
 the sufficiency of that urging ceased. 
 
 This occurred at the hour when her sister, 
 Hilda, was about to make some form of d^but. 
 That the latter was thereby materially handi- 
 capped goes without phrases. Apart from a 
 ' handful of school friends, their brothers and 
 lovers, the girl knew no one. It was Mrs,, 
 Montrion on whose offices she relied to join the 
 since defunct F. C. D. C, and to tread Assembly 
 floors. It was through her she was to be 
 smiled upon by the Bleeckers, Bewicks and 
 Wainwarings. It was through her she was to 
 grasp those two potential fingers with which 
 Mrs. Amsterdam sealed the advent of the deb- 
 utante, and just when the frocks were ordered, 
 
ADAM SAPPHIRA. 11 
 
 presto I up and down Fifth avenue one door 
 after another was closing on Mrs. Montrion's - 
 back. 
 
 It was li ird on the girl, very. But she held 
 her tongue, and the frocks which were to have 
 been worn at routs she wore quite graciously 
 at home. Now and again when her father 
 could be induced to secrete himself, the hand- 
 ful of friends, their brothers and lovers, were 
 asked to break bread at the house; and in re- 
 turn now and again her friends asked her to 
 their own abodes. It was on one of these 
 occasions that she met Carol Nevius. 
 
 Xevius wf.s then in his twentv-fourth year. 
 As men go his appearance was not distressing, 
 he was neither effeminate nor beefy, his chin 
 may not have been one which Lavater would 
 have praised, but his features were good, he 
 held himself well, and he dressed as those do 
 who put themselves in West-End hands, and 
 
12 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 then dismiss the subject. A little before he 
 had taken honors at the Law School, and had 
 been welcomed to the bar by judges to whom 
 his name was evocative of old New York and 
 the early history of Manhattan. Of immedi- 
 ate relatives he had none. His income, de- 
 rived from a small bundle of bonds and the 
 rental of the Nevius house in Tenth street, was 
 fiulB&cient to enable him to live without toil 
 though not without debts. An existence of 
 that kind not being to his liking he had fought 
 for spurs and won them, so notably even that 
 the cigars he smoked while digesting the Code 
 were paid for from the emoluments of his pro- 
 fession. 
 
 ^ His initial encounter with Miss Snaith oc- 
 curred at a dinner. As the conversation ex- 
 panded he found himself taking pleasure in 
 ihe sound of her voice, and presently he 
 discovered that her eyes were so blue they 
 
MADIM SAPPHIEA. IS 
 
 dazzled; that lier mouth was perfect the poise 
 of her head delightful: that though slight of 
 figure, she "was adorably constructed; that her 
 wit was nimble and her manner subdued. She 
 seemed to exhale all that is gooc^ in woman — 
 simplicity, sympathy, sweetness ard strength; 
 manifestly she was pure of mind, of eye and 
 tongue, and before the dinner was done he 
 tokl himself that her beauty was the least of 
 her charms. 
 
 These impressions he kept to himself, but 
 on learning that at her house a cup of tea was 
 to be had any afternoon for the asking, he 
 thanked her with much gratitude and took her 
 at her word the next day. 
 
 Put was it tea she gaye him '? Surely there 
 was H philter in that samoyar. It was Feb- 
 ruary then, but by the time Lent had come 
 and gone and the spring's bold emissaries 
 were in the air, such was the potency of that 
 
14 MADAM 8APPHIRA. 
 
 iDrew that only her people and his poverty 
 prevented him from praying her to become his 
 wife. Try as he might, he could not reconcile 
 himself to her family, and try too as he was 
 able, he could discern none of the cohorts of 
 advancing wealth. And yet the girl was so 
 radiantly fair, so graceful in speech, so gra- 
 cious in bearing and apparently so unexpectant 
 either of love or betrothal, that he saw no 
 reason why he should cease to quaff that cup. 
 Nor did he cease till spring had gone and sum- 
 mer jumped upon the town. 
 
 At the first monition of impejiding heat the 
 Snaiths were accustomed to desert Fifth avenue 
 for a red chalet at Bronx, a roomy structure 
 standing on grounds that leaned to the water's 
 edge. Sometimes a poor connection could be 
 lured that way, and sometimes a friend of the 
 girl's would come unwarned and then take 
 flight, abashed by the speech of that coarse old 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 15 
 
 man, unnerved by the stealthy air and cattish 
 smile of the mother. But as a rule guests 
 were infrequent. 
 
 By what means Mr. Snaith was induced that 
 year to try the waters of Sharon is not a part of 
 history, but try them he did, and during his 
 absence Nevius was asked to Bronx. Oyer that 
 invitation he hesitated and continued to hesitate 
 until after a minute review of recent events he 
 was able to affirm that not once had the qvA 
 even alluded to engagement rings. Then he 
 went, and as Mrs. Snaith kept herself aloof, very 
 pleasant he found it. 
 
 Of a morning there Avould be a skurry on 
 horseback through bye-lanes and hedges; when 
 the sun was oppressive there were the poets — 
 Meredith, Bailey, Eosetti, Blunt and Swin- 
 burne too; in the late afternoons there were 
 decorous drives over dusty roads, but in the 
 evening there was the moon, the gurgle of 
 
16 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 waters, the caresses of a midsummer night. 
 There were strains too from that duo in which 
 we have all taken part, and there were mono- 
 logues, spaced with silence. The moon, the 
 waters, the hush of locusts, the sorceries of the 
 poets, these things are sworn accomplices to 
 adventurous desires, and one morning Nevius 
 awoke, wondering at fate, appalled by it, over- 
 come by a remorse into which a sweetness fil- 
 tered and declined to go. 
 
 When he sought the girl she was not im- 
 mediately discoverable. It was not until he 
 set out through the grounds that he discerned 
 the white and buttercup of muslin beyond. As 
 he approached she rose from a bed of flowers, 
 and, as he took her hand, her lips parted and she 
 smiled. Never had she looked more fair. Be- 
 neath the blue splendors of her eyes were the 
 faintest of circles, but in the gay sunlight she 
 was as fragrant as the floweus she held. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 17 
 
 " Wish me good morning," she admonished. 
 And that office performed she led him to another 
 parterre, where she gathered more flowers and 
 joined them with the first. 
 
 " They will do for the table, don't you 
 think?" 
 
 "Hilda, will you marry me?" 
 
 She turned to him, a quick, glad look on her 
 face. 
 
 "You know that I love you," he added. 
 "You must know that, or — or — " 
 
 Lamely he hesitated. But the girl must 
 have divined his meaning ; she made a gesture 
 that dispensed with needless explanations; a 
 little color came to her cheeks, yet her eyes 
 rested bravely in his own. 
 
 " Yes, I know, and you too must know how I 
 love you. Carol, I have always loved you ; that 
 line in Festus was made for me: 'My love was 
 perfect from the first, it did not grow as mean-er 
 things mature.' " 
 
 2 
 
18 Madam sapphiea. 
 
 There was no riding that day. Later the 
 girl made avowals sweeter still. To all intents 
 and purposes her life had been but a waiting 
 for him, the preparation and prelude of his 
 coming. There were many things over which 
 she had wondered, but now they were all made 
 clear. She understood music and its meaning. 
 She understood the witcheries of spring, the 
 ripple of the rain, the breath of brooks. She 
 understood, at last why the stars had filled her 
 with unrest. She understood when they first 
 met why a bird in her heart had burst into 
 song. It was love, always love; her love ap- 
 pealing to his. 
 
 This was very pretty, and of such avowals 
 Nevius became thoroughly avaricious. He, 
 too, was in the festival of youth, and apart 
 from the three or four episodes which inevit- 
 ably occur to one who moves in certain circles 
 and whose appearance is not distressing, he 
 
Madam sapphira. 19 
 
 might have repeated to her everything she 
 said to him. His heart at least was as virginal 
 as her own. If he had taught her the mean- 
 ing of love, she had shown him the meaning 
 of life. Heretofore he had been ambitious to 
 make a name for himself. Now at once he 
 was ambitious to make a name for her. And 
 with a little perplexity, a little embarrassment, 
 he told her of himself. There was the house, 
 the meager income and his professional hopes. 
 
 In view of the fact that the Snaith house- 
 hold was kept on a footing of perhaps fifty 
 thousand a year, and by no means lavishly at 
 that, the girl might readily have dismissed so 
 indigent a suitor. Then, too, in spite of the 
 sweetness and simplicity which she exhaled, 
 she was not one to contemplate with enjoyment 
 such pleasures as are said to reside in surb ur- 
 ban flats. But she had faith, less in her 
 lover's success perhaps than in the possibilities 
 
20 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 of her father's naoney. At the moment, how- 
 ever, she seemed quite content, and a day or 
 two later informed him that her father had 
 arrived and had been approached. 
 
 " You are to speak to him after dinner," she 
 said. "If you were a broker he would love 
 you." At that period brokers made money. 
 " But you are a lawyer, and he says lawyers 
 are tricky. Come." 
 
 Nevius looked down and away. In regard 
 to trickiness Mr. Snaith's reputation was in- 
 deed above reproach, but in this respect, it 
 surpassed it. Yet, after all, it was not the 
 father he was to marry, nor yet the mother, it 
 was the girl he loved. The entire catalogue of 
 distasteful things which her family repre- 
 sented, faded at thought of her. He looked up 
 and followed her from the verandah to where 
 her people were. 
 
 At the entrance of the lovers Mr. Snaith 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 21 
 
 grunted and made for the dining-room beyond. 
 His wife stroked a bloodless hand and asked 
 did it look like rain. 
 
 " "When I am with Hilda," Nevins answered, 
 "the sky is always fair." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed the lady, by whom that 
 phenomenon had evidently passed unobserved. 
 "Ah! indeed!" 
 
 Nevins turned to the girl, she was smiling, 
 the red tip of her tongue just visible, and so 
 adorable was her expression that it was only a 
 proper appreciation of form which prevented 
 him from catchins: her and smotherinof her 
 with kisses in his arms. 
 
 But in the dining-room the enthusiasm of 
 the moment was forgot. Mr. Snaith broke a 
 raw egg into his soup and refreshed himself 
 with whisky and lithia, a beverage that he 
 declared was tip-top for gout, which statement 
 passing unchallenged he entered into a long 
 
22 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 tirade against physicians in general and profes- 
 sional men in particular. They were either 
 idiots or scoundrels. *' Yes, sir, every damn 
 one of them." To all of which Mrs. Snaith as- 
 sented. Then he relapsed into a domineering 
 silence, and some attempt was made at more 
 amiable forms of talk but without sufficient 
 success to cause any needless prolongation of 
 the repast. 
 
 When the bowls were brought and the 
 women had gone, Nevius turned to his host. 
 All over him was written the fact that he had 
 seen worse days and never intended to see them 
 again. He was short and obese, with a face 
 like a brandied cherry, and as terrible as vul- 
 garity and ready-made clothes could make 
 him. He looked exactly what he was and 
 nothing worse could be said of him. 
 
 " I believe you are aware that I ha;Ve asked 
 your daughter to be my wife," 
 
3Iada:m sapphira. 23 
 
 " She has made her bed and she can h'e iu 
 it," Mr. Snaith replied. 
 
 Am I to infer that I have your consent?" 
 
 " Infer? I don't know what you infer. She's 
 got a good home, I don't see what she wants to 
 leave it for." 
 
 " Doubtless," answered Nevius. " for the 
 same reason that Mrs. Snaith left her own." 
 
 " That's nothing to do with it. She's not 
 fit to be married, I've told her mother so. But 
 let's cut it short. What's your income?" 
 
 "Forty-six hundred." 
 
 '*I'1I give her the same as long as I can af- 
 ford it and not a damn cent more.' 
 
 " Perhaps in a year or two it won't be neces- 
 sary for you to give anything." 
 
 "So much the better for me then." 
 
 And with that Mr. Snaith left the table and 
 hobbled from the room. 
 
 Had Nevius been other than himself, he too 
 
24 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 would have left the room, Bronx as well. Even 
 the law had not brought him into contact with 
 a boor such as that. For a second it seemed to 
 him that in spite of Hilda and the irreparable 
 he must wash his hands of the whole affair, but 
 in that second Hilda was at his side and led 
 him out to where the red moon was, the gur- 
 gling waters, the locust's hush. 
 
 Before the red moon waned white he was 
 reconciled. A girl such as she possesses en- 
 chantments which dull regret. And during 
 the pre-nuptial honeymoon which ensued the 
 only regret he could maintain was that which 
 concerned his position toward her. But for 
 what was the marriage service invented? In 
 the autumn their loves were consecrated by a 
 diligent bishop, and for a while they loitered 
 among the quick of Paris and the ghosts of 
 Eome. When they returned, the house in 
 Tenth street was made habitable, and Nevius 
 threw himself into work as another plunges 
 into dissipation. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIKA. 25 
 
 A year passed, another, a third, six in all, 
 yet on this particular evening, as Mrs. Nevius 
 from the head of the table questioned him in 
 regard to the possibilities of future income, 
 she was, if not a bounder, as the word is used, 
 still as far from the inner sanctuaries of upper 
 fourdom as when the doors were closing on her 
 sister's back. 
 
 At the time being she had no opportunity 
 of expatiating on this wrong. A servant ap- 
 peared and announced that Mr. Ablaut was in 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 Mrs. Nevius rose from her seat, and her 
 husband, punishing a yawn with a tap of the 
 finger, made for the library. 
 
 *'If it were Jenny now," his wife called 
 after him, her eyes half -closed, her chin up- 
 raised, "you wouldn't he in aueh a hurry, 
 would you?" 
 
 j 
 $ 
 
26 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 n. 
 
 " I WOULD rather have written SalammbS 
 than have built the Brooklyn Bridge. It was 
 more difficult, and besides it will last longer." 
 
 Mr. Alphabet" Jones, the novelist, a 
 thimbleful of champagne in his throat, was 
 discoursing to the guests whom Mrs. Nevius 
 had assembled. 
 
 *'Yes, of course," interjected Mrs. Anderson, 
 a young woman with the face and manner of 
 a cocotte. *'Ah, yes," and she smiled with 
 an air entendu; but does literature pay?" 
 
 With elaborate manifestations of bewilder- 
 ment, Jones threw himself back in his chair : 
 
 "Pay, Mrs. Anderson? Pay, did I under- 
 stand you to say? Why, look at Bradshaw. 
 Year in, year out, he clears ten thQUSaud 
 pounds sterling." 
 
MADAAI SAPPHIEA. 27 
 
 " Bradsiiaw ■? Bradsliaw?" Mrs. Ajiclerson 
 shook lier liead vaguely. '"Oli. yes, tlie author 
 of Ben Hur. ■■' 
 
 '"Ce qu'elle est idiofc.'' muttered Xevius to 
 Miss Jenny Adulam. vrho sat at his side. 
 
 '•Ce ciu'eUe ni'ciuiuic," responded that young 
 woman. But her eyes said more than the 
 "words conveyed: they complimented Mrs. An- 
 derson with a look of absolute abhorrence. 
 
 "TThat is if:"'' Xevius asked, vho had seen 
 but not understood. ''What has she done?" 
 
 " I can't tell you." 
 
 " But you must. Jenny.'' 
 
 ''I can't: I told Hilda and that's enouofh.'' 
 
 " Xo, dear Mrs. Anderson," Jones was say- 
 ing. " Not Ben Hur; you are thinking of Mr. 
 Gunter. Bradshaw is the author of Piabelais, 
 Tristram Shandy and the Bride of Lammer- 
 moor.'' 
 
 "Yes, ye- 'I .-■arse, but tli-u yuu j^ee I 
 thought he was dead." 
 
28 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 " Not dead,, dear Mrs. Anderson, and that is 
 just the point I was seeking to convey. Dead 
 he is not, but departed, for the artist never 
 dies. But how well Scalchi sang last night. 
 Don't you think her voice must have been 
 changed in the cradle? " 
 
 From across the dinner- table Clayton An- 
 derson, a fat man with a beard that concealed 
 the total absence of chin, labored to the rescue 
 of his wife. 
 
 " By the way, Jones, that was a nasty criti* 
 cism the Saturday Beview had of your book. 
 Stupid sheet, isn't it?" 
 
 "Stupid? not a bit. Only the year before 
 last it had a most excellent article on manure. 
 It is admirably edited, I assure you." 
 
 " By gad," snorted Anderson, an appreciative 
 smile on his sodden, good-natured, face. *'If I 
 had the editor's address I'd drop him a line 
 and tell him what you say." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 29 
 
 " Drop it in the sewer, it will get to him in 
 time," Jones answered, and began anew at 
 Anderson's wife. 
 
 Ablaut, who sat at Mrs. Nevius' left — James 
 Ablaut, Jr., a large red-headed man, who 
 dripped platitude and exhaled stupidity from 
 every pore, yet the son of a Patriarch and as 
 such supposed to be possessed of social power 
 — grinned contentedly at his truffles. 
 
 Mrs. Nevius turned to the novelist: "Tell 
 me," she said, in reference to an episode which 
 was then occupying not only society but the 
 newspapers of two worlds as well — a husband 
 who, surprising his wdfe with her lover, had 
 killed the latter almost in the woman's arms. 
 " Tell me, what do you think of the Ex affair. 
 Is it not terrible?" 
 
 "Terrible in its selfishness^ yes," Jones 
 answered. "And still more terrible in its bad 
 taste." 
 
80 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 "We men of the world — " Ablaut, anxious 
 to get an oar in, began, but Jones was too 
 quick for him. 
 
 "There's a plural that is singular. Now, 
 Mrs. Carol, since you do me the honor to ask 
 my opinion, I think it was Ex's duty to have 
 made himself more attractive to his wife than 
 any one else could, but having failed, having 
 seen that he failed, the dog-in-the-manger act 
 which he committed was abominable. If any 
 shooting was necessary it was himself he should 
 have shot. But all that sort of thing is out of 
 date and bad form too. A man of the world 
 never sees or hears anything that was not in- 
 tended for him. 
 
 " You think he ought not to have made a 
 fuss then? Well, perhaps; but when a man 
 surprises his wife in that way " 
 
 " He should apologize for the intrusion." 
 
 "And do nothing?" 
 
MADAM BAPPHIRA. Bl 
 
 Oh, if he really feels the need of satisfac- 
 tion, he might express some astonishment and 
 say to the lover, 'Is it possible, sir, that you 
 are embracing that lady without being obliged 
 to?' A little remark of that kind can be as 
 effective as a bullet and has the advantage of 
 not raising the roof." 
 
 ''Stuff and nonsense," objected Anderson 
 pompously. " This man was a snake in the 
 grass. He was Ex's friend and under cover of 
 that friendship he led his wife astray. In 
 Ex's place I should have done the same thing." 
 
 From where Mrs. Anderson sat came a 
 ripple of laughter which silenced her husband 
 strangely. Jones turned to him with serious 
 mien : 
 
 " No, dear boy, permit me. A woman is 
 never led astray. She trots, or gallops or bolts 
 astray, but never is she. led. Lovelace, Faust, 
 Don Juan, rolled into one, are helpless where 
 
32 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 virtue is. Besides, in these days a man nevv.!- 
 makes the first advances, he hasn't time. It is 
 the woman, always the woman, who — " 
 
 " Dear me! " Mrs. Nevius was making a fine 
 show of indignation. " Dear me, are all women 
 as bad as those in your books? Haven't you 
 ever met any with a conscience ?" 
 
 "Plenty, Mrs. Carol. Plenty. Some even 
 with two." 
 
 And as the novelist through his shrewd, tor- 
 toise-rimmed glasses gazed at his hostess, that 
 lady lowered her eyes. 
 
 At the other end of the table Nevius was 
 chatting inaudibly with Miss Adulam, a girl 
 less pretty than fetching, small of feature, with 
 the flush of youth still in her face and about 
 her that intangible something discernible only 
 in the end-of-the-century virgin of higher New 
 York life, that air which, while indicating total 
 incapacity for wrong-doing, indicates also a per- 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 33 
 
 feet compreliensiou that wrong-doing exists; in 
 short, a girl to whom a man may talk without 
 the disheartening dread of seeming to say more 
 than he means. Nevius had known her when 
 she was in short frocks, and a few years pre- 
 vious, encountering her haphazard in Paris, had 
 made her acquainted with his wife. Since then 
 the two had been much together, Mrs. Nevius, 
 who understood perfectly the advantages which 
 a married woman possesses in the companion- 
 ship of a decorative young woman that can be 
 relied upon to hold her tongue, having grappled 
 her to her heart with hooks of steel. 
 
 " So you are not going to Tuxedo,'"' the girl 
 was saying, though less for information per- 
 haps than for conversation's sake. 
 
 "Xo, why should !•?•' 
 
 "Hilda goes to-morrow with the Andersons 
 and Ablaut." 
 
 " Ah! I knew nothing of it. I did not even 
 
 3 
 
34 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 know they were to be here to-night. You either, 
 for that matter. Hilda only told me when I 
 got up-town. But what is this about Tuxedo?" 
 
 The girl shrugged a shoulder. " Some party 
 they have made up. You don't mind?" 
 
 " It wouldn't matter much if I did, I fancy. 
 Though if I seem to, it is only because of 
 Mrs. Anderson, who is common as — as, well, 
 let us say Narragansett Pier." 
 
 "She is your guest," Miss Adulam mur- 
 mured. 
 
 "Very true." And for the moment Nevius 
 subsided. 
 
 Presently there was a general move to the 
 adjoining room. There Nevius sat with the 
 girl, Jones occupying himself for literary pur- 
 poses in drawing Mrs. Anderson out, the other 
 men dividing their hostess' attention. But by 
 eleven, husband and wife were alone. 
 
 As the front door closed for the last time, 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 35 ' 
 
 Nevius -went over to where his wife was seated. 
 "I have been having a chat with Jenny." 
 "So I saw." 
 
 " What is it that Mrs. Anderson has been 
 doing to her ? " 
 
 Mrs. Nevins opened her great blue eyes in 
 wonder. 
 
 " Doing to her? I am sure I don't know. 
 What do you mean?" 
 
 "Jenny said she had told you." 
 
 " Oh, what nonsense. Dulcibella happened 
 to be a little friendly with her and she went to 
 work and imagined all sorts of things." 
 
 Nevius stared at his wife very blankly. 
 
 "I don't understand. What did she im- 
 agine?" 
 
 " How do I know? She's probably got her 
 head farcie with the Deiix Amies or some simi- 
 lar twaddle and is capable of imagining any- 
 thing. Give me a cigarette will you? It's 
 not worth talking about," 
 
36 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 Nevius went back to the dining-room, but 
 when he returned his face was grave. 
 
 " Do you know, Hilda, I wish you would 
 drop that woman. What you tell me is not 
 reassuring, but, independent of that, she has 
 neither manners, breeding nor brains. And 
 how should she! Her grandfather was a 
 Tweedringer, her father the receiver of stolen 
 goods, and yet in the List she has got 
 her maiden name down as Wainwaring; why 
 she is no more a Wainwaring than you are." 
 
 " That is one of her middle names, I think," 
 Mrs. Nevius answered remotely. " But even 
 otherwise, what does it matter ? How can you 
 be so old-fashioned? Nowadays people don't 
 expect a patent of nobility in everyone they 
 meet; what they do expect is money. Bella 
 has a hundred thousand a year and no one 
 would object if she called herself a Knicker- 
 bocker. Besides, is it her fault about her 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 37 
 
 grandfather? I dare say if we got down to 
 bottom facts the original Nevius was no 
 better." 
 
 " The original Nevius was a Latin poet, but 
 that's neither here nor there. I won't have 
 her at dinner. She's a woman with preferences 
 for everybody and attractions for none." 
 
 " She is nothing of the sort, she is very 
 pretty, and anyway there is no use in your 
 picking up Alphabet Jones' cigarette stumps. 
 He never means a word he says; he talks and 
 talks just for effect. I am tired and sick of 
 him. Did you notice the way he spoke to 
 Ablaut to-night ? He doesn't seem to be aware 
 of the difference in their positions." 
 
 Nevius smiled helplessly and tugged at his 
 moustache. ''I think he is, but I am quite 
 sure he would not try to wound Ablaut by re- 
 ferring to it. Here, Michette! " 
 
 A black monster, amber of eye, the neck 
 
38 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 furred like a rufiP, the tail fluttering like a ban- 
 ner, gazed through the portiere. Leisurely it 
 promenaded a haughty stare, interrogating the 
 escritoire, the pedestalled lamps, the yellow 
 shaded candles, the grave hangings, capa- 
 cious chairs, cushioned lounges, plants, flowers 
 and knicknacks with which the high-ceiled 
 room was provided. Then, assured that all 
 intruders had gone, it stepped gingerly and 
 circuitously to where Nevius sat and with a 
 sudden purr bounded to his side. 
 
 « There Michette, I know all about it. You 
 don't like strangers any more than I do. Do 
 you, you lobster? " 
 
 Michette opened and closed his eyes and 
 purred profusely. 
 
 " And you have not the remotest desire to 
 go to Tuxedo, have you? " 
 
 A thin smile came and vanished in the cor-> 
 ners of Mrs. Nevius' mouth. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIKA. 39 ' 
 
 " Did Jenny tell you that, too ? " 
 " That Michette— 
 "Don't be absurd." 
 
 " Yes, she said you Avere all off to-morrow. 
 
 do hope you won't be gone long." 
 
 " But, Carol, when I am here you see noth- 
 ing of me. You come in just in time for din- 
 ner, and after that you are either talking busi- 
 ness or writing letters. Oh, I know what you 
 are going to say — that you are trying to make 
 a fortune — but what good does that do me? 
 I want to go out. I want to entertain and be 
 entertained. I want to lead the life that my 
 friends do; and, instead of that, I might just 
 as well be at Bronx. You won't go to the 
 opera, you won't go to the assemblies; last 
 winter you would not even take me to 
 Mrs. Bleecker's. If once in a century I 
 ask people to dinner, unless you have 
 Jenny on one side of you and Jones within 
 
40 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 call, you don't speak. Aud if it were my friends 
 alone that you snubbed! But you won't even 
 speak to my own family. There was a time 
 when my mother used to beg me to bring you 
 there. Now she never mentions your name. 
 My father says you cut him in the street. 
 But don't you know that you are making 
 yourself very well hated? The lecture you 
 have read me about Bella Anderson is all very 
 well, but it would be the same thing in regard 
 to any one else ; it always has been. You ob- 
 jected to Viola Earitan, to the Yardes, to the 
 Jerolomons, to this woman, that man and the 
 other. Do you know what I think? " 
 
 And Mrs. Nevius, in spite of her manifest 
 indignation, smiled frostily. 
 
 *'Do you know what I think? You want a 
 wife simply for domestic purposes; to pay the 
 bills, talk to tradesmen, see that the machinery 
 runs smooth; to be your housekeeper by day 
 and your mistress at night" 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 41 
 
 " At least I Avant no other wife than yon. It 
 may be selfish, of me to act as I do; no donbt 
 it is, but since I have got into these companies 
 I haven't a moment/'* 
 
 Mrs. Xevius, whose cigarette had gone out, 
 relighted it, and for a while puffed meditatively. 
 Presently the cigarette was put aside, lier 
 features relaxed, and she looked up at her hus- 
 band with great amiability. 
 
 " There, Carol, forgive me. I am out of 
 sorts. I knovv' you work hard; say the word, 
 and I wont go to Tuxedo.'' 
 
 " But Hilda, I am delighted to have you go 
 if it amuses you. The only thing is—" 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 "Your companions." 
 
 " What a goose you are. The Andersons are 
 received. Whate^-er you may say. Belle is per- 
 fectly presentable. 
 
 "Oh I don't mean to imply that she eats 
 
42 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 sweets with a spoon ; nor was it so much of her 
 I was thinking. Ablaut is all very well in his 
 way, but don't you think he is too much in 
 yours ? Don't you think if he is tagging after 
 you down there that people will gossip?" 
 
 Mrs. Nevius gave a twist to her skirt and 
 laughed for sheer joy. 
 
 "You dear thing, are you jealous? Tell 
 me, Carol, are you ? " 
 
 Nevius tormented the tip of his nose reflect 
 ively and glanced at his wife. She looke(? 
 the embodiment of merriment, of coquetry 
 too, of grace as well, and prettier even, more 
 tantalizing and tentative than in the old pre- 
 nuptial days. No, he was not jealous and 
 said so. 
 
 " Now see, " she continued, straighteniLg 
 herself and distributing wide breezes from an 
 enormous fan. " See how little jealous I am. 
 Every evening while I am away, Jenny is to 
 dine with you. " 
 
mada:^! sapphiea. 43 
 
 " You don't mean that you asked lier! " 
 
 " I did then, and she said she would like 
 nothing better. " 
 
 "But won't the servants think it odd?" 
 
 Mrs. Nevius gave him a curious, investigat- 
 ing look. 
 
 " What are the servants' thoughts to you? " 
 
 " Nothino:. It was Jennv I was considerino^." 
 
 " She cares as little as you do. If I ask her, 
 who is to object?"' 
 
 " Not I, certainly. Jenny is very sweet, I 
 am very fond of her, and if she comes I shall 
 take it as very kind of her, but she is not you. 
 It is you I want. " 
 
 He leaned forward; there was a light in his 
 eyes which she saw and recognizeds but before 
 he could reach her she was on her feet. 
 
 " There, Carol, behave. I am tired, and be- 
 sides, anyone would think we were on our 
 honeymoon still. " 
 
4:4 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 III. 
 
 "This is really delightful of you. I had 
 hardly ventured to hope — " 
 
 *' If you are going to be formal, Carol, J 
 won't stay. " 
 
 Miss Adulam, preceded by Michette, was en. 
 tering the drawing-room. Such outer wrapt*, 
 as she may have worn had been laid aside, but 
 her frock, cut sufficiently low in the neck to be 
 suitable for evening wear, had none of tho in- 
 signia of festival. 
 
 And now, as she stood holding a hand to him, 
 there was about her a little simple air of dig- 
 nity which a princess might seek and got not. 
 
 "I won't be called formal. I am jiot for- 
 mal. " AndNevius, raising the hand, i iuehed 
 the wrist with his lips. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA, 45 
 
 From between the curtains at the end of the 
 room a servant appeared, anniinciant of dinner. 
 
 " But it is good of you, he continued. " It 
 is "svorth while to be a bachelor to have such 
 compensation as this. " 
 
 Miss Adulam withdrew the hand. 
 
 " If Hilda had not insisted I should not be 
 here, " she said; "but she has been so good 
 to me that it seemed stupid to refuse, particu- 
 larly as it appeared, sir, that if I had, you 
 would not have let her go. " 
 
 "Aha! I'm a tyrant now, am I? All the 
 same, Miss, I wish you would try to imply that 
 you are here just a little for me. " 
 
 " But I am," the girl exclaimed. "Eeally I 
 am. If I were not very fond of you do you 
 suppose I should be here at all ? " 
 
 " There, thaf s something like, that's my dear 
 old Jenny. Now let's go in and see what we 
 are to have to eat. But afterward you must 
 
46 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 play. When I was younger, oh ! ever so much 
 younger, I swore a great oath that I would never 
 marry a girl that did not. And Hilda, who did 
 play at the time, has not touched a piano since. 
 Her hand is no longer big enough for the 
 octaves, if you please. That's the way we men 
 get cheated. There!" 
 
 Nevius had seated his guest and taken the 
 seat at her side. 
 
 "Put my things here," he called to the 
 servant, for his place had been arranged at the 
 other end. *'And what is there to drink? 
 Champagne and claret? No, I want moselle 
 and seltzer. Serve the champagne to Miss 
 Adulam. You won't have claret, will you? 
 By George, I believe these are Mumford coves. 
 I take that as being very thoughtful of Hilda, 
 Mainienani,''^ he added with just a glance to 
 where the servant stood. " Causons. Et nos 
 amour sf 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 47 
 
 "That's hardly the expression, is it ? The 
 girl answered in French. "But after all he is 
 so nice that call it what you like." 
 
 "He's a deuced lucky fellow, that's all I 
 have got to say about him." 
 
 "Not so lucky, Carol. Not a penny, not 
 one." 
 
 "xlnd what of it? When I married I hadn't 
 a penny either. But it's idiocy of him to stick 
 in Texas. He won't make anything in cattle. 
 That day has gone. This is the era of syndi- 
 cates and New^ York is their home. Make him 
 come back, Jenny. I can put him up to any 
 number o£ things. Nevius and Tredegar! How 
 does that sound?" 
 
 "Beautifully. Carol. But Jack won't do it. 
 Tou know how obstinate he is ; once an idea in 
 his head and only a surgical operation could 
 get it out." 
 
 "And his heart?" 
 
48 Madam sapphirA. 
 
 Miss Adulam smiled demurely. 
 
 "Anyway," Nevius persisted, "you have 
 so^ioetliiiig of your owil" 
 
 "Eventually I shall have something; a hun- 
 dred thousand, perhaps, but not more." 
 
 " But that's very neat. You could live com- 
 fortably on it in Paris and luxuriously in Flor- 
 ence. Of course it's not much here, and noth- 
 ing at all in London. And you wouldn't care 
 to live anywhere else, would you? After all. 
 New York would be a mighty nice place, 
 if it were not for the New Yor.^iers. Don't 
 you think so?" 
 
 " Here," he called in EnglisJi to the serv- 
 ant. "Give Miss Adulam some more cham- 
 pagne, and I want some more seltzer, "What 
 is there after this? Quails? I hate quails. 
 Never have them again." 
 
 He turned to the girl. 
 
 "Does he write often?" 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 49 
 
 ^'Who? Jack? Every day." 
 *'And what does lie say?" 
 ^^Mais, Monsieur, vous me demandez des 
 Glioses /" 
 
 "I didn't mean that." And Nevius shook 
 with laughter. " Though I can fancy, of 
 course," he added after a pause, which he pur- 
 posely made significant. 
 
 ' You are very impertinent, sir, and I am 
 going home." 
 
 " Yes, of course. And that is just the odd 
 thing; it is always an impertinence to divine 
 a woman's thoughts. Her wishes passe en- 
 core^ 
 
 "Why, aren't you ashamed of yourself?" 
 and the girl turned on him a look which was 
 meant to be quite severe yet was not. " I am 
 afraid Alphabet Jones is corrupting your good 
 manners." 
 
 "Do you know, Hilda said sgijietling of the 
 
50' MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 sort last ni^ht. By the way, she intimated the 
 other eveoing that Ablaut was in Jove with 
 you." 
 
 Carol!'' 
 
 " She said something to the effect that he 
 came here more to see you than anyone else. I 
 shall tell Jack, Miss Jenny, mind that." 
 
 With an inappositeness which afterward 
 was to occur to Nevius as curious in the ex- 
 treme, the girl became abruptly barometric. 
 
 " Wasn't it nice this afternoon, so cold and 
 brisk!" 
 
 "Cold? yes, it was certainly that, but I 
 don't know what your idea of niceness is. It 
 rained pitchforks down town, didn't it rain 
 here? Why, Jenny, you are crying!" 
 
 But not a bit. The phantoms of twin tears 
 had come and gone. Miss Adulam was mis- 
 tress of herself at once." 
 
 Poor Jack," sbo p^iirmurecl, 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 51 
 
 " Why, you foolish thing," expostulated 
 Nevius with much noise and indignation. 
 "Damn Jack. No, forgive me, I didn't mean 
 that. I don't know what I meant. I was onlj 
 jesting anyway. 
 
 " What's all this," he cried furiously at the 
 seryant. " Carry it all away and serve the 
 cotfee in the other room."' 
 
 " Come, Jenny," he added in another tongue 
 and milder tone. " Let's have a cigarette in 
 English." 
 
 Michette, who lay, a ball of fur, before the 
 fire, stared indolently at their approach, then, 
 his back arched, his tail full as a bludgeon, 
 made crab-like zigzags across a rug. 
 
 " I know what you want, you lobster, you 
 want some music to dance to." 
 
 And presently, the cofiPee disposed of, Nevius 
 and Miss Adulam took seats at the piano and 
 played a successioij of resounding duets. 
 
62 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 Whether Michette accompanied them with 
 pirouettes and entrechats is not a part of his- 
 tory. The duets continued until, during a 
 wonderful series of resounding accords, there 
 came a ring, and Miss Adulam stood up. 
 
 " Thank you, Jenny. That went off very 
 
 well, didn't it? And you will come to-morrow? 
 You are sure it doesn't bore you? " 
 
 In a brotherly fashion he drew the girl to 
 him and kissed her pure brow. 
 
 "Miss Adulam's maid." 
 
 A portiere had been drawn. The servant 
 entered and disappeared. 
 
 "Yes, certainly, I will come." 
 
 Nevius followed her to the hall, aided her 
 with her cloak, accompanied her to the cab, 
 and, as he re-entered the house, told himself 
 that it would not be a bad idea at all to see 
 what effect a letter from him might have on 
 the obstinacy of Mm Adulam's lover. 
 
Madam sapphiha 
 
 58 
 
 TV. 
 
 A WEEK passed. Once Nevius read of his 
 wife's presence at the country club to which she 
 had. gone, and once she wrote. But the letter 
 was brief, relating mainly to household affairs 
 and conveying but meager details as to the 
 writer's occupation and environments. 
 
 Meanwhile Miss Adulam had been almost as 
 good as her word. She had dined at Tenth 
 street twice and on the intervening Sunday 
 had lunched there as well. 
 
 On that evening Nevius dined with Michette. 
 The cat was loquacious, but its loquacity was 
 not of the interruptive order, and as it mono- 
 logued interminably on ^\hat seemed to be the 
 same subject, Nevius felt bored. As a relief, 
 the cloili removed, he wrote to his wife. 
 
64 MADAM SAPPHlM. 
 
 That pleasure at an end, the boredom re- 
 turned, loneliness as well, and for companion- 
 ship's sake he looked in at the Athenseum club 
 where he ran into Alphabet Jones and man- 
 aged to kill an hour. 
 
 " I hear you are making money," the novel- 
 ist between two whiffs remarked. " I hear you 
 have enough to burn." 
 
 " I wish I had. No, I may have to go to 
 Chicago in a day or two, I am afraid even that 
 I may have to go abroad." 
 
 " It wouldn't frighten me a bit if I had to. 
 Will your princess go too ?" 
 
 " Oh, of course." And Nevius nodded with 
 an air of assured conviction. " But how is the 
 Muse ? What are you writing now ? 
 
 " Cheques, dear boy," Jones answered neg- 
 ligently. Cheques, that's all." 
 
 "I thought you had something on the 
 stocks." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA 55 
 
 Stocks is the word. The pillorj comes 
 later." 
 
 " Your books are too confounded cynical. 
 Alphabet. The public don't like it." 
 
 " But did I invent human nature?" And the 
 novelist looked at his friend with an air rumi- 
 nant and bovine in its innocence. 
 
 "I don't believe," retorted Nevius, "I don't 
 believe at all that it is human nature for women 
 to act as they do in your books. Anyone migh' 
 think that New York was peopled with demi- 
 reps." 
 
 " Perhaps. But then you see every one isn't 
 blessed as you are." 
 
 " No, that's a fact, I admit. But even so, 
 what is the use in choosing such subjects?" 
 
 "I choose a subject! Why, dear boy, a 
 writer, if he happens to be worth his syndicate, 
 never chooses a subject. The subject chooses 
 him. He writes what he must, not what he 
 
56 MADAM SAPPHIBA. 
 
 might. That's a thing that the public can^t 
 understand. The secret of any work of value 
 lies in the harmony existing between the sub- 
 ject and the author. And even then his one 
 chance of success consists not only in yielding 
 to the subject but in caressing it. Every artist 
 knows that. Flaubert has rung his changes on 
 it a thousand times. 
 
 "Oh, well, if you bring up yot.r heavy artil- 
 lery I surrender. After all I don't mean to 
 abuse you." 
 
 "But I love 10 have you. The next time 
 voi7 have a moment skim over a history, and 
 then come and tell me the name of one man of 
 ability who has not been abused. And the 
 greater the ability, the greater the abuse. It 
 is the tribute that failure pays to success. 
 Mediocrity is never discussed, and, being un- 
 forgiving, resents it. As for my books, if they 
 please no one, doubtless they are poor, but if 
 
Madam sapphira. 51 
 
 they pleased everybody I should consider them 
 rot. Vox populi, vox shiUi. The majority is 
 always wrong. What would a Scotch and soda 
 say to you?" 
 
 *' That I am vile and vicious I suppose. No 
 thanks. I think I will be getting home." 
 
 " By the way, if you and Madame go abroad, 
 will Ablaut and Miss Adulam join you?" 
 No, why should they?" 
 
 Jones lit a match and fumblt^d for a cigar- 
 ette. "Are you sure you won't have anything? 
 Where is that devilish case gone now! Ah, 
 yes, here it is." 
 
 "Why did you ask?" Nevins repeated. 
 
 Jones glanced about the room. " For no 
 reason, dear boy," he murmured apologet- 
 ically. " For no reason. I had got to look 
 upon you all as a family party, don't you se»3, 
 and it occurred to me that — that — it occurred 
 to me — " 
 
58 MADAM SAPPHIRa 
 
 Irritated by this mummery and hesitation. 
 Nevius got from his seat. " I don't know 
 what can have occurred to you, (*)at if you 
 fancy for one instant that anything, even pia- 
 tonism, exists between Ablaut and Jenny Adu- 
 1am, I may just as well tell you that you are 
 ofe, 'way off.'" 
 
 " I should think so;" and Jones smiled in 
 his beard. " No, indeed. Wait a second, dear 
 boy. No, indeed, I never gave the matter a 
 thought. But that subject of platonism now is 
 really very interesting. Speaking in the ab- 
 stract of course, I believe in it, but not as you 
 do. I think that the affection a nice girl may 
 have for a man who is neither her brother nor 
 her lover, a man I mean with whom she is con- 
 stantly thrown in contact, is often of that order. 
 But it is different with the man. It seems to 
 me that however pure at heart he may be, how- 
 ever honest in intention, nature is apt to leseut 
 
Madam sapphiea. 
 
 that negation of sex. And it is for that reason 
 that platonic affection, or, more exactly, recip- 
 rocal platonism, is discoverable only among 
 married people. Nature having had her way, 
 has no slights to resent, and occupies herself, 
 if at all, in directing the attention of the 
 parties to the possibility of other enterprises. 
 In such circumstances there are women who, 
 noting in their husbands a decreasing desire 
 for the pleasures of the ieie-a-iefe, appeal to 
 the courts. There are others astute enough 
 to understand that it is not in the nature of 
 man to subsist on a single dish, and sufficient- 
 ly refined not to give that bit of information to 
 the newspapers. But there are also women 
 whose fastidiousness is such that they are the 
 first to desire a change in the menu. When 
 this occurs there are husbands that return to 
 the animal state and shriek for blood; there 
 are others of finer braed who collaborate 
 
60 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 with their wives in an effort to observe the 
 courtesies and amenities of civilized life while 
 agreeing that individual tastes shall suffer no 
 interference. Now there you have true platon- 
 ism, the ideal state in which the ancients in- 
 structed us, the — " 
 
 "Ideal state of pigsty," Nevius gruffly inter- 
 rupted. ' What's all this rubbish you are re- 
 hearsing on me?" 
 
 Amused and vatic, Jones set about polishing 
 an eye-glass. 
 
 "Rubbish, is it, dear boy? Well, perhaps; 
 but then we have been merely exchanging 
 ideas. Do have a liquor." 
 
 "No. I'm off. Good-night." 
 
 Jones watched him go and nodded confiden- 
 tially to himself, "ie menage a trois, c'esi 
 encore joU. Mais a quatre ! Non, c^est (Tun 
 pur /" 
 
61 
 
 Y. 
 
 Mes. Carol's return was iiBlierakleil. One 
 evening after a dinner at the Down-Town Club. 
 Xevius found lier entrancing as an angel, iDut 
 far better garbed, outstretclied in the drawing- 
 room. From beDeath the hem of the skirt the 
 gold clock-work of a stocking glistened, the 
 blue eyes that met his own were languid and 
 sultry, and as he bent over to kiss her there 
 rose to greet him the fresh odors of iris and of 
 health. 
 
 "There, don't muss me up." 
 
 Unabashed Xevius drew a chair to where 
 she lav. and taking her hand held it in his own. 
 
 "I can never tell you how glad I am. And 
 I have wanted you so. You enjoyed yourself, 
 I hope. Tell me all about it. Are you glad 
 to be back?'' 
 
62 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 Mrs. Nevius withdrew the hand he held, and 
 with two fingers patted a yawn. 
 
 " Of course I am glad to be back. Carol, 
 do be careful," she admonished, for he had 
 bent toward her again. " There's some one 
 there. Of course I am glad to be back. I 
 hate living in a trunk. What is it, Rebecca? " 
 
 The servant had entered; a note on a tray. 
 
 "A letter for you, mem. And there's an 
 answer, mem." 
 
 Nevius moved his chair. His wife stood up 
 and went forward to a lamp. There she turned. 
 
 " You are not going out, are you? " 
 
 And as Nevius shook his head, she made a 
 motion to the servant." 
 
 " I will ring." 
 
 The woman left the room, and Mrs. Nevius, 
 seating herself at the escritoire, busied her- 
 self with pen and paper. 
 
 «*Wbom k it from, Hilda?" 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 63 
 
 The question must hR,ve entangled lier 
 thoughts. She took the sheet on which she 
 was writing, tore it up and tossed it aside. 
 
 How can I write if you keep talking to me ?" 
 she asked almost piteously. "It's from Fran- 
 ces." 
 
 Frances was her sister, Mrs. Montrion, and 
 as Nevius gathered up the Post and tried to 
 lose himself in the advertisements, the name 
 evoked a series of incidents that were not at 
 all to his taste. There was the liaison with a 
 dyspeptic boor, which, however, had interested 
 him remotely, if at all, until Mrs. Montrion 
 took it into her head to have herself and the 
 cavaliere servente chaperoned by Hilda during 
 a trip abroad. At that he had rebelled, and 
 his rebellion had not been lessened on learning 
 the object, which was to enable the Snaiths, 
 during Mrs. Montrion's absence, to secure evi- 
 dono© against that lady's husband, whereby 
 
64 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 she might obtain a divorce and marry her 
 lover. But the plot had fallen through. Mon- 
 trion was not a man to be trifled with, and his 
 wife grew timorous of results. Then, too, the 
 cavaliere servenie^ after the fashion of his 
 kind, had bestowed his services elsewhere. 
 The subject was not agreeable, and to dismiss 
 it Nevius tried to lose himself in the columns 
 of the Post Before he succeeded, the answer 
 was written, dispatched as well, and Hilda re- 
 turned to the sofa. 
 
 Nevius threw the paper aside. "If you are 
 glad to be back," he began with a bad attempt 
 at banter, " at least you are not enthusiastic." 
 
 "But what do you expect? Here I am 
 tired out, and besides after what you wrote I 
 thought you would be on your way to 
 Chicago." 
 
 Yes, I remember. But I found it was not 
 iiecessary and I am glad now it wa^ not. J 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. db 
 
 only wish you had wired. If I dined down 
 town it was only because it is less appalling 
 than the house when tou are o^one.'' 
 
 Mrs. Xevius smiled with bright frostiness. 
 But you have had Jenny all the time. 
 Dear me, Carol, what do you want? A se- 
 raglio?'' 
 
 And as though in challenge, she raised a 
 fan and unfurled it with a sudden click. 
 Xevius shook his head. 
 
 " It is not nice of you to speak that way. 
 It's not like you either. You know that I 
 want no one but yourself." As he spoke he 
 bent toward her, but before he could touch 
 her, 3Irs. Xevius moved, and shoving him 
 gently enough aside, sat upright, smiling 
 still. 
 
 " Listen to me, Carol, how long have we 
 been married? Xearly seven years. Xow, 
 tell me, don't you think that in seven years a 
 
 6 
 
66 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 woman may get just a little tired of that sort 
 of thing." In her great blue eyes interroga- 
 tions floated, and in the corners of her mouth 
 was a candor which would have delighted 
 Greuze. "For I am. And if you are not," 
 she added with a gesture so wide that it took 
 in all New York, " there are so many other 
 women who would like nothing better." 
 
 Nevius was on his feet. Into his face had 
 come a look which his wife had seen before, 
 and at which, mentally, she retreated. But be- 
 fore he could speak, she was at his side, her 
 arms about his neck, her lips on his, 
 
 " Dear," she murmured. " Couldn't you see 
 that I was jesting. Don't you know it, Carol? 
 Don't you know that if I thought you could 
 look at another woman it would break my 
 heart?" 
 
 With both hands on his shoulders she held 
 him a little from her, and with a pathos that 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 67 
 
 seemed charged with love and grief eternal, 
 gazed into his face. 
 "Tell me?" 
 
 "I suppose so,'' he answered, though with a 
 thoroughly masculine sigh. " But then, what- 
 ever I may do or leave undone, you come al- 
 ways first." 
 
 Mrs. Nevius' eyes lighted visibly. She led 
 him back to where they had sat and for a while 
 very sweetly discussed with him matters of 
 common interest. At last she stood up again, 
 declaring that it was late. 
 
 "I am going," she announced. "Are you 
 coming presently ? " 
 
 Nevius led her to the door and drew the 
 porti5re that she might pass. 
 
 " And Carol, when you come don't forget 
 the gas." 
 
 The portifere fell again. Nevius returned to 
 the Post There was an editorial which he 
 
68 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 read anheedingly. From a cablegram lie 
 learned of an epidemic in the Orient. From 
 another that an English duke had died without 
 aa heir. A paragraph in the financial column 
 interested him. There was a statement which 
 concerned his own interests. He got out a 
 note book and studied some figures; an idea in 
 connection with them occurred to him, and at 
 the desk he jotted down some memoranda 
 which he re-copied and tearing up the draft 
 put the copy in his pocket. He looked at the 
 clock, the half hour which he had given him- 
 self had gone and he went upstairs, the gas 
 forgot. 
 
 The following afternoon, on returning to the 
 house, he went directly to his own room. At 
 the office he had found that the memoranda 
 were not in his pocket. In ordinary circum- 
 stances he would have recalled the substance of 
 any such paper unaided, but in this instance 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 69 
 
 subsequent episodes had driyen the purport 
 from his mind. Xot in his bed-room, however, 
 nor in his dressing-room, was the paper to be 
 found. He questioned the housemaid; she had 
 no information to impart. TMiere is the house- 
 maid tliat ever had? After all, he reflected, it 
 was not a matter of life or death, and if it were 
 lost, was it not as Hilda had often said, because 
 he was fiendish in his carelessness? And he 
 was about to give the matter up when he re- 
 membered that he had first made a draft which 
 he had torn and thrown aside. There was a 
 chance that the housemaid had left the scrap- 
 basket undisturbed and, presently, after getting 
 into evenino: dress, he went to the drawing:- 
 room below. 
 
 The lights were lit, on the table was the Posi; 
 there, against the wall, was the escritoire of 
 lacquer work and brass on which he had writ- 
 ten, and beside it a basket of beribboned yelyet 
 
70 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 One glance was sufficient, the contents had not 
 been touched, and, emptying them, he began to 
 arrange them on the desk. Yes, they were all 
 there. In a moment he had them not only in 
 proper position, but with three pieces of paper 
 to spare. These he would have brushed away, 
 but something on one of them caught his eye 
 — Dearest J — , written in his wife's hand. 
 But what preceded the adjective, or what had 
 followed the J, there was nothing to tell. The 
 second scrap was larger, and on it was written 
 he has not go — ; on the third were two words 
 and a fraction that must have come from the 
 middle of a sentence — canH see y — -. 
 
 Nevius stared at these little papers and, as 
 he stared, all interest in his own memoranda 
 evaporated. 
 
 He looked again. in the basket. It was quite 
 empty. Whether the other bits of that letter 
 had fallen, not in the basket, but on the floor, 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 71 
 
 and had tlien been swept away, lie did not try 
 to determine. Enough remained. The J, of 
 course, was Ablaut — Jimmy, as he was famil- 
 iarly called. As fol* the rest, a child could 
 have supplied the missing words — He has not 
 gone to Chicago; I canH see you io-nighi. 
 
 And this was Hilda! For a while he sat, 
 staring at the scraps, conscious only that he 
 was suffering, endeavoring even to delude him- 
 self into a belief that some explanation might 
 set this horrible thing aright. But little by 
 little, as the impossible merged into the actual, 
 the understanding came to him that the worst 
 that could be done had been done, and he ceased 
 to suffer. It was time to act. 
 
 Prom the stair came a rustle of silk, the 
 sound of a footfall that he knew. As yet he 
 had no plan. But as he became aware that 
 Mrs. Montr ion's sister was entering the room 
 he stood up. His lips may have been a trifle 
 
72 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 compressed, but otherwise he had his every- 
 day 'iir; he looked well groomed, sedate, anx- 
 ious, if at all, merely that dinner should not be 
 too long delayed. 
 
 Mrs. Nevius passed through the curtains, the 
 light shuttling her hair, illuminating the rose 
 of her mouth. In her blue eyes were evoca- 
 tions of summer, and beneath them, on her 
 cheeks, on the lobes of her ears, health had 
 placed its token in pink. She was adorably 
 dressed, adorably constructed, and dressed and 
 constructed to be adored. In one hand was a 
 fan, in the other a fold of her gown. At sight 
 of her husband she smiled. 
 
 Nevius stayed her with a question. 
 
 " What was it that Frances had to say that 
 was so important last night ? " 
 
 With that motion which a swan has, Mrs. 
 Nevius turned her head and for a moment 
 seemed lost in the query. But at once she 
 must have recollected. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 73 
 
 " Xothing. The address of a milliner. How 
 are tilings in the Street ? " 
 
 "And you gave her the address, did you?'' 
 
 " Of course, I did. Why ? But what do you 
 mean by asking all these questions? " 
 
 " And you found it necessary to add that 1 
 had not gone to Chicago, and that you couldn't 
 see her, didn't you? " 
 
 Mrs. Xevius'' big blue eyes seemeu to grow 
 bigger and bluer, but to her face came a flush 
 wdth which health had nothing to do. 
 
 " You found it necessary to add that, didn't 
 you?" 
 
 The fan she held, she opened and closed. 
 " I am sure,'"' she said at last, " I don't under- 
 stand — " 
 "Look." 
 
 At the invitation, at the gesture which accom- 
 panied it, she crossed the room, peered down at 
 the scraps, at the basket from which they had 
 
74 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 come, at the rug and floor. When she raised 
 her head she turned on her husband a look of 
 absolute scorn and, straightening herself, con- 
 fronted him. 
 
 " You, you, Carol Nevius, condescend to 
 Eumble through waste papers ! A scullery-maid 
 might do such a thing, a gentleman — never." 
 
 " Ah ? Perhaps. But it was not for sociolog- 
 ical information that I asked you to look at 
 these things. It is because they are addressed 
 to Ablaut, who, I see, is your lover." 
 
 Mrs. Nevius stepped back. In her face had 
 come an expression which a princess might 
 assume to a lackey who had dared to question * 
 her. Then at once, as in a storm, a sky of 
 buttercups and forget-me-nots will suddenly 
 appear, the indignation vanished and she 
 laughed outright. 
 
 " Why, you great goose, that was written 
 to your Jenny." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 75 
 
 And as Nevius contented himself with star- 
 ing at her. " But how," she cried, " liow is it 
 possible for any one to be such an idiot as you 
 ^re! " 
 
 " I don't see—" 
 
 " Then you shall. On our way to town Mrs. 
 Manhattan offered me a box for next Friday. 
 I thought I could get you to take both J enny 
 and myself. Last night before you came in I 
 sat down to write to her. I told her of the 
 offer, and referring to you I said, "If he has 
 not got anything on hand I can't see yet bi?*, 
 that we may persuade him." Then I heard 
 you at the door, and determined I would ask 
 you first. But did you give me time? Did 
 you? "Was ever a woman mauled as I was? 
 Aren't you ashamed of yourself? No, but 
 aren't you?" 
 
 " Will you forgive me?" 
 
 He was very penitent, very meek, very happy, 
 
76 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 and as his wife pretended to look as though 
 she were not quite sure whether forgiveness 
 could be granted to such a sinner, he caught 
 her in his arms. 
 
 *' Oh Carol!" muttered that aggrieved little 
 woman, freeing herself as best she might. " How 
 can you be so dreadful! Some one's there." 
 
 Between the curtains Rebecca stood in silent 
 announcement of dinner. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 77 
 
 YI. 
 
 iToB several clays Xeviiis saw little of his 
 wife. At no time had she been visible when 
 he left the hoiibe, and now when he returned 
 there seemed to be always some one at dinner. 
 The cloth removed, he sought the library, a 
 room on the second floor which separated his 
 apartment from hers. By day it was gloomy, 
 for light reached it from above but at nighL 
 it was pleasant and very still. Lined on 
 three sides with books, it was furnished with a 
 wide table, easy chairs, a hanging lamp, and a 
 sofa large as a bed. Here Nevius passed his 
 evenings. Time was valuable to him just then; 
 he had more documents -to examine than he 
 could handle at his office, and many a letter to 
 read and write. Later, the work at an end, he 
 
78 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 would go in search of his wife, but in those 
 days she must have been over-fatigued; her 
 door was locked. 
 
 This regimen made him morose. That the 
 effect was noticed is presumable. One evening 
 he was gratified with the intelligence that he 
 was to dine alone with Hilda, and incidentally 
 that there was a surprise in store. What was 
 it? Ah, voila! If she told, where would the 
 surprise be? 
 
 In his delight at recovered companionship 
 Nevius promptly forgot all about that surprise; 
 during the service of the courses he talked 
 of his plans and projects as he had not had the 
 chance to talk for ages before, and when the 
 meal was done and they had gone to the other 
 room there was a caress in his manner which 
 Mrs. Nevius understood. 
 
 " Now, Carol," she admonished, as he took 
 a seat at her side. " Do behave, it's immoral, 
 there's no other word for it." 
 
mada:m sapphira. 79 
 
 " Immoral! " 
 
 " If it is not immoral then, it's worse. It is 
 bourgeois." 
 
 From tlie past there floated to him memories 
 of the old pre-nuptial days, when there had 
 been no question of ethics, no question of cus- 
 toms, nothing in fact save a frank abandonment 
 to love and life. But to those days he was in- 
 capable even of an allusion. 
 
 "It is not nice of you to talk like that,'' he 
 answered. " Tou accused me some time ago of 
 
 picking up Jones' cigarette stumps; a speech 
 
 c 
 
 such as yours smacks of Mrs. Anderson a mile 
 away. I have begged you so to drop her. 
 
 "Oho! I'm not nice, eh'?'' And Mrs. Carol 
 nodded and smiled seductively. " Wait till you 
 see. Now tell me, how have you been passing 
 your evenings?" 
 
 "Yery badly." 
 
 "But how, I mean. What have you been 
 doing?" 
 
80 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 " Writing letters." 
 
 "And how long has it taken you?" 
 
 " Two or three hours." 
 
 " Precisely. Now if by any combination of 
 circumstances I were able to shorten those two 
 or three hours ifrto one, and mind I only say 
 If, but if I were, would I be nice or would I 
 not?" 
 
 To these propositions Nevius assented. 
 " Yery good, will you come with me for a 
 moment. " 
 
 Mrs. Nevius led him to the floor above and 
 threw open the library door. Seated at the 
 table was a young woman of that type of blonde 
 beauty which only a sight of creates in the 
 average man a desire to jump straight down 
 the possessor's throat. As the door opened 
 she rose from her seat, and with a gesture, 
 perhaps of embarrassment, her hand went to 
 the side of her head and busied itself with a 
 curl. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 81 
 
 Mrs. Nevius looked at the girl, and iu a lit- 
 tle voice, which was used only on particular 
 occasions, afPably, from the tips or the lips, she 
 murmured : 
 
 " This is Mr. Nevius, Miss Vtihrer." Then 
 with a glance that stripped Miss Vtihrer from 
 neck to heel, she turned to her husband. 
 
 Miss Ytihrer is a stenographer. Oh, quite 
 an expert, I believe. Miss Vtihrer thinks she 
 can be of great assistance to you. If you have 
 any letters to-night, why not let Miss Vtihrer 
 show you her abilities ? " 
 
 Whether or not this projection of peaches 
 and cream into the privacy of the library 
 caused Nevius pleasure or displeasure, not even 
 a lady who was eying him could decide. 
 
 "Certainly," he answered, but he spoke in 
 the matter-of-fact way which he brought into 
 all business transactions. " Certainly, I make 
 no doubt that Miss Vtihrer is competent, and 
 
82 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 I shall be glad of her assistance. Let me see. 
 Yes, I have several letters. Perhaps — " 
 
 " I will leave you then." 
 
 With a sweet little bow to the young woman, 
 Mrs. Nevius backed from the room and closed 
 the door. 
 
 " Perhaps you will sit down, Miss Ytihrer. 
 Yes, you might sit there, please. You have 
 every thing you require ? " 
 
 Miss Vtihrer, a pad in her hand, a row of 
 sharpened pencils before her, resumed her seat. 
 Nevius dropped on the sofa, and after a glance 
 at some papers, which he had taken from his 
 pocket, began: 
 
 *' Waters and Rivers, Wabash Avenue, Chi- 
 cago, Illinois, Dear Sirs : — In reply to yours of 
 the 18th I have to inform you that — " 
 
 And so on and so forth. For an hour the 
 dictation continued uninterrupted, save by 
 pauses of thought, and the tick of the clock 
 
MABAM SAPPHIBA. 83 
 
 on the mantel. Once Nevius beard the door 
 bell ring, and once he found himself scruti- 
 nizing this blonde young creature, who rarely 
 turned her eyes to him. The letters done, he 
 stood up. 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Ytihrer, that will do. If 
 you will copy out what you have, I can sign 
 later on." 
 
 He left the room and went down the stairs. 
 On the way he caught the sound of a ^^oice, 
 which, musical as the squawk of a bicycle he 
 recognized at once, and on reaching the hall, 
 picked up his hat and coat. But his step had 
 been heard, his movements perhaps divined, 
 there was a jostle of portiere rings, and before 
 he had got his arms well into the coat, Mrs. 
 Carol was at his side. 
 
 "You are not going out, are you? Do come 
 in. It's only Ablaut, you don't mind him." 
 
 " Not in the least, but I do mind his carry- 
 
84 MADAM SAPPHIBA. 
 
 ing off my best umbrella every time it rains, 
 and I wish you would tell him so too." 
 
 "Oh, pooh! "Who's afraid of you? Tell me," 
 and Mrs. Carol came closer to her husband. 
 "What do you think of her ? " 
 
 "MissVuhrer? She is very pretty." 
 
 "Is she really!" 
 
 The air of surprise which Mrs. Nevius 
 assumed could not have been dissimilar to that 
 which the Duchess of Burgundy exhibited, 
 when she learned that other women had five 
 fingers like herself. 
 
 " Is she really ! I didn't notice. How queer 
 men are! But do come in." 
 
 "No, not just now. I have an odd feeling 
 in my head, a walk will do me good." 
 
 And bending toward his wife he received 
 from that lady a rapid and noiseless peck. 
 
 When Ne^'ius returned Miss Vuhrer was 
 about to leave. The drawing-room was dark 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 85 
 
 and untenanted. He opened the door for the 
 girl, wished her ^ood night, and went in search 
 of his wife. But Mrs. Nevius must have al- 
 ready retired. There was no answer to his 
 knock* 
 
86 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 VIT. 
 
 Meanwhile nothing further had been said 
 about Mrs. Manhattan's box. Mrs. Carol may 
 have abandoned the project, and as for Nevius, 
 the matter had passed from his mind. He had 
 other things to think of. One evening he re- 
 turned to the house later than usual; he was 
 tired and looked cross. On entering the draw- 
 ing room he found his wife already there. At 
 the moment he said nothing, contenting him- 
 self with staring at her. Her gown was an art- 
 ful combination of silk and tulle, colorless yet 
 silvery, and in it, with a large fan and a low 
 bodice, very delightful she was to benold. About 
 her were the incendiary and not altogether de- 
 finable emanations which the well sent-out of 
 her sex not infrequently exhale, but of which 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 87 
 
 she liad made a study. There are women, few 
 indeed, but there are women who merely in 
 raising their arms define the reason of love, 
 and Mrs. Nevius was one of them. The costume, 
 however, and its attendant charms were not, 
 Nevius understood, intended solely for his own 
 delectation. A festival of some kind was im- ] 
 minent. 
 
 "Aren't you going to dress?" 
 
 As Mrs. Neviufe spoke, the tips of her lips 
 just moving, her chin a trifle advanced, her 
 eyebrows arched, the blue splendors of her 
 eyes dilating, she might havo sat for Spring 
 pouting at Winter. 
 
 With the sans-g^ne of a married man, Nevius 
 dropped in a chair. 
 
 "Anyone would think I had shot you," she 
 added, after a pause which she made populous 
 with interrogations. 
 
 Nevius straightened himself. 
 
88 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 ** How long will it take you to pack ? " 
 
 "Two months." 
 
 " Hilda! do be serious." 
 
 " Two months I tell you. Not a minute less. 
 But what has happened? I give you my word 
 you look as though you had been studying the 
 extradition treaty. What's gone wrong?" 
 
 *'I go to Paris to-morrow and I want you to 
 go too." 
 
 To this Mrs. Nevius made no reply unless 
 the click of a fan may be so accounted. 
 
 " The Board of the Interocean Canal met to- 
 day and they want me to go. In fact I have 
 to. The stockholders, in spite of De Lesseps, 
 are all there, and the Board needs more money. 
 How much God only knows, and when I say 
 God only I exaggerate — " 
 
 "Don't be coarse," Mrs. Carol interjected, 
 but she spoke mechanically, her thoughts afar. 
 
 "I have the ticket, a cabine de luxe; it i.s 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 89 
 
 big enough for three. Bebecca could get such 
 things as you need in shape in no time. And 
 it would be so sweet," he added. 
 
 This conclusion was allowed to pass un- 
 noticed. With a gesture which was habitual 
 to Mrs. Carol when called upon to think quickly, 
 she raised a hand to her forehead. On one 
 finger a great jewel glistened, but not more so 
 than the finger-tip. When she lowered it her 
 face was almost apathetic. 
 
 *'It would be so sweet of you, Hilda." 
 
 Mrs. Nevius dropped her fan, patted a fold 
 of the skirt, and, as though reflecting still, 
 crossed to where he sat. 
 
 He was on his feet at once. 
 
 "I knew you would!" he cried, and caught 
 her to him. 
 
 "How long are you to be gone?" 
 
 "Oh," he answered eagerly, "the time to 
 get there and turn around," 
 
90 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 Mrs. Carol freed herself. 
 
 *' Dinner has been announced. Let us go in." 
 
 *' Yes, and let's have some champagne. Do 
 you remember the St. Marceau we used to get ? 
 Do you remember the little restaurant we went 
 to one night on the other side of the Seine ? 
 Do you remember — " 
 
 The memories of other days returned, too 
 abundant, too fragrant, too sacred even, for 
 enumeration while the servant was there. But 
 during the progress of the meal there was 
 plenty of animation in that room, many a jest 
 and many a laugh. The jests, however, came 
 from him. Mrs. Carol smiled and nodded, and 
 nodded and smiled, but otherwise her contri- 
 butions to the gaiety were slight. At last they 
 moved again to the adjoining room. There, 
 when they had got seated, she took his hand 
 in hers. 
 
 " Carol, I can't go." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 91 
 
 Surprise, annoyance too, lifted liim from the 
 seat. 
 
 "Now wait." ^Itli but a gesture she lia^* 
 him back again. " If you insist I will obey 
 you, but — " 
 
 " Obey me, why — " 
 
 "But it will be very selfish of 3^ou. I am 
 not a bagman's wife, Carol. I can't leave New 
 York at a moment's notice. In spite of your 
 attitude I have some small position in society. 
 I have engagements to keep, duties to which I 
 must attend. I have my friends, my family. 
 What would they all say? But supposing I 
 were to go. Who would look after the house? 
 When I got back it would be in rack and ruin. 
 You're to be gone but a few weeks. Surely 
 after nearly seven years you can do without 
 me for that space of time. x4.nd I would only 
 be in your way. But look at it from a differ- 
 ent point. Supposing, as many a woman has, 
 
92 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 I not only refused to go, but refused to let you. 
 Whereas I am going to do everything to get 
 you off comfortably, and not only that, but I 
 shall be on the dock to welcome you home. 
 Only on one condition though — " 
 
 And as he manifested no earthly interest in 
 the condition, as he looked sulky and very 
 cross, she twisted about in such a manner that 
 he was obliged to notice her, and repeated ten- 
 tatively and seductively: 
 
 " Only on one condition though — " 
 "Well, what condition then?" he finally 
 snarled. 
 
 , But Mrs. Carol was very patient that even- 
 ing; very tender. She stroked him much as 
 she might a big baby. 
 
 " That you promise, no, but faithfully and 
 honestly promise to be back in six weeks." 
 
 By way of answer Nevius bit his lip. 
 
 " And see," she continued, " I was going to 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 98 
 
 Mrs. Usselex' to-niglit. I was going to make 
 you take me too. Yes, T^'lietlier you liked it or 
 not. But Mrs. Usselex have to do with- 
 out me. Why, Carol, I wouldnH leave you to- 
 night, no not to sup with the queen." 
 She touched a bell. 
 
 " Kebecca," she ordered when the servant 
 appeared. " There was a cab to be here at 
 eleven. Countermand it, and tell Miss Ytihrer 
 not to wait." 
 
 These commands distributed she turned 
 again to her husband. 
 
 A glance was enough to tell her that his an- 
 noyance had gone, that presently he would 
 accept the situation, its logic as well, and 
 with some inward approbation oi her own 
 prowess she stood manfully to the guns. 
 
 " You can do so many little things for me, 
 too, Carol. I want corsets of that woman in the 
 Eue de la Paix. I want gloves from the 
 
94 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 Louvre and lingerie from Doucet. If you tell 
 the corset woman I want six more like the last 
 she will understand. And you must order 
 them as soon as you get there. Corsets take 
 forever. And the gloves — but I had best make 
 a list. Tou won't lose it, will you ? Oh, if it 
 were April now how I would jump at the 
 chance. In the winter Paris gives me the hor- 
 rors. You must be good, though; no flirta- 
 tions, rien des horizontales. Do you hear?'' 
 
 Yes, he had heard; he gave the required 
 promise, but absently, his eyes on the rug. 
 
 "And you must take good care of your- 
 self, too. You mustn't tire yourself out, and 
 catch one of those horrid Paris fevers. If you 
 did, though," she added after a moment, " how 
 I would fly to you ! " 
 
 The words were nothing. But in the intona- 
 tion, in the expression of anxiety her face took 
 on, there was a tenderness, a solicitude, an affec • 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 95 
 
 tiou SO sincere and abiding that Nevius felt 
 ashamed. 
 
 It was selfishness, he reflected, to wish her 
 to accompany him on a disagreeable trip, and 
 it was surly of him now that he saw the selfish- 
 ness of the wish to sit staring at the intricacies 
 of the rug. But still, though ke said nothing, 
 his face spoke for him and presently when 
 he put his arm about her Mrs. Nevius felt that 
 the battle was won. 
 
96 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 VIIL 
 
 Save in New York, and in the antipodes, the 
 early winter is rarely pleasant. But when 
 Nevius reached Paris the sky was white as tin 
 and in the air that sparkle which Fifth avenue 
 knows in March. 
 
 He descended, to use an idiom of the land, 
 at a small hotel in the Eue Castiglione, where 
 he was greeted as only those are who are mag- 
 nificent with small coin. 
 
 "Seigneur! I who dreamed of Monsieur the 
 night of the day before yesterday. No, it does 
 good to the eyes to again see Monsieur. And 
 Madame? She carries herself always well? 
 Ah, how I am content! God of gods, to say 
 that I of it have dreamed!" 
 
 It was the janitress, obese and fulsome, wel- 
 coming him in the excesses of her tongue. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 97 
 
 " And Baptiste ? It is there he is. The truuks 
 of Monsieur to the number 12, and let it not 
 loiter. And hey !" she cried with much haughti- 
 ness to an interloper who had opened the cab- 
 door and was now officious in the transfer of 
 the luggage, " And hey, species of calf's head 
 marined in mud, go, I pray you, a little that 
 way and see if I there am." 
 
 Number 12, in which Nevius presently found 
 himself, w^as a yellow suite, where he had 
 brought his wife on each of their visits to 
 Paris. Though two years had passed since the 
 last trip, apparently nothing had happened to 
 it, it was as ornate and trivial as before. He 
 had but to close his eyes and fancy her calling 
 to him, as she was wont to do from the room 
 beyond, and, for a while, in an absurd, canary- 
 covered armchair he sat reminiscent. 
 
 The journey over had been uneventful, as 
 such journeys ever are. There was the usual 
 
 7 
 
98 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 number of merry commercial gentlemen in the 
 smoking-room, and on deck, blanketed in sedan- 
 chairs, the usual quota of unalluring dames. 
 Apart from a man whom he remembered but 
 whose name he could not recall, he had barely 
 exchanged a word with anyone. But then, he 
 had not been well. On the second day out the 
 curious sensation of a lancinating burn had 
 come and gone, leaving him perplexed as to the 
 cause, yet mindful of an anterior, though less 
 acute attack. On the morrow there was nothing, 
 a heavy feeling merely, which he attributed to 
 the effects of the sea, and which remained with 
 him until the voyage was done. 
 
 And now, as he sat in the little sitting-room, 
 he felt he was ill, yet after the fashion of men 
 to whom illness exists only through hearsay, 
 he refused to admit it. He would dine, he told 
 himself, and look in at the Comedie. For though 
 be objected to theatres in New York, there 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 99 
 
 was no weariness to him in that home of perfect 
 acting and perfect French. 
 
 Contrary to precedent, the prescription did 
 him good. On the morrow he awoke, if not 
 alert, at least refreshed, and after a breakfast 
 of coffee and the Figaro — in which he learned 
 that Mr. Cleveland had the Constitution of the 
 United States tatooed on his back — he went to 
 the corset woman, across the way to Doucet, 
 afterward in search of gloves to the Louvre, 
 and it was only these matters attended to, that 
 he bethought him of the duties which had 
 brought him to France. 
 
 Business in that country is not transacted 
 with the same dash which has made the suc- 
 cess of our own. The agents whom Nevius 
 visited were not to be hurried. There was a 
 preliminary plenitude of form to be observed, 
 punctuated, it is true, with abundant promises. 
 But the Canal Company, albeit in its quality 
 
J 00 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 of corporation, without a soul, had, neverthe- 
 less, a stomach, and Nevius was fully aware 
 that that stomach was not to be fed and 
 be filled on the faith of to-morrow's baked 
 meats. Yet beautifully clear was it made to 
 him that it was precisely on food of that kind 
 that the company would have to subsist until a 
 general meeting could be called and terms ar- 
 ranged. Meanwhile, the agents would be only 
 too glad to have him breakfast with them, dine 
 with them and sup, as well. 
 
 Under the diligent supervision of friends 
 encountered and recovered, a week was helped 
 away without any abuse of these offers. The 
 corset woman, he found, was not as dilatory as 
 she had been represented ; already a package 
 of her wares had come, another from Doucet, 
 too. As for the gloves, long since they had 
 been in his keeping. The machinery iu the 
 agent's office was at last at work, and in a fort- 
 
^ADAM SAPPHIRA. 101 
 
 night, so far as he was then capable of de- 
 termining, there would be nothing to prevent 
 his return. 
 
 On the morning of the ninth day after his 
 arrival there came to him, with the coffee and 
 the Figaro.^ a batch of letters postmarked New 
 York. Among them was one of blue paper, 
 stamped with the Nevius crest, directed in his 
 wife's familiar hand. Oh, he had been await- 
 ing it, calculating when it would arrive, de- 
 voured by impatience, hoping even that tide 
 and weather favoring, it might reach him the 
 day before. But now it had come, and letting 
 the other letters lay where they w^ere, he opened 
 it, his eyes glad and eager. 
 " Dear Carol: 
 
 " I have bad news for you, or, at least what 
 seems bad to me. Your v>^hole affair with that 
 woman has come out My father has beeji 
 told, and he says that if I do not come to him 
 
102 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 at once lie will disinherit me. Precisely what 
 course he will pursue I do not know; indeed 
 since I first learned of your conduct I have 
 been so dumb and crushed that the family have 
 seen that I am incapable of acting for myself, 
 and have taken the matter entirely out of my 
 hands. But, independent of them, I know that 
 you will agree with me, that it is best that we 
 should part. For years we have led different 
 lives; you never would take me anywhere; your 
 pleasures were your own, not mine. But I will 
 not reproach you. I know your nature, and 
 how you resent interference. Hereafter there 
 will be no one to bother you. A bachelor's 
 life, without ties or duties, is what you prefer. 
 As for myself, I may tell you that a more 
 wretched, broken-hearted woman does not exist. 
 In separating myself from you, I say good-bye 
 to so much — to my wasted years, to my ruined 
 youth, to love, to happiness and to life. But 
 
MADAM SAPPHIKA. 103 
 
 it must be said, and in such grief as you would 
 pity could you see, I say it. So soon as I am 
 able I leave this empty and dishonored house; 
 there are other women that will come to you in 
 it, be truer to them than you have been to 
 me. I can write no more, my eyes are blinded 
 with my tears. 
 
 "Hilda." 
 
 When Nevius finished this curious communi- 
 cation he neither changed color nor fainted away. 
 But he did rumple it a little and then smoothed 
 it out and read it again. It is a trick, he told 
 himself, a forgery, a practical joke. But where 
 was the trickster capable of perpetrating a jest 
 such as that ? "She must be mad," he reflected. 
 "What affair of mine has come out? Why must 
 she go to her father. Why is she dumb and 
 crushed? Why — why — Avhy — ?" 
 
 But ask questions of canary-colored furni- 
 ture in a Paris hotel and see how communica- 
 
104 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 tive it is. Yet to the soul that is sinking Hope 
 throws a straw. With the idea that something 
 in the other letters might convey a clue to the 
 mystery he ran them over. One was from the 
 Canal Company. He threw it down. Another 
 was from his broker; he tossed it aside. A 
 third was from Chicago; he let it lie unopened. 
 But the fourth was more promising; in one * 
 corner it bore the neat imprint of the 
 Athenaeum Club and it was covered with the 
 oblique scrawl with which Alphabet Jones was 
 accustomed to distress his publishers and con- 
 fuse his friends. 
 
 "Dear Eeprobate: 
 
 " It is the way of this envious world to hate an 
 adulterer. The brute has had such a con- 
 founded good time that the rest of us are jeal- 
 ous — an apothegm which you won't have to 
 read twice to understand that I have been in- 
 terviewed by Mrs. Carol. Yesterday I was seufc 
 
MADAM SAPPHIKA. 105 
 
 for and I at once precipitateei mvsolf to 
 renew the expression of my homage. Your 
 princess was looking remarkably well, but of 
 you and of one who shall be nameless she did 
 not speak as she looked, in fact, it would be 
 hyperbole to say that she was complimentary. 
 Of course I reasoned with her as best I could. 
 I told her that accidents increased the best of 
 families; that woman j^roposes and a poor 
 deyil accepts; that matrimony is payed with 
 improper attentions. But my arguments were 
 treated like cob-webs. I was told that you had 
 gone abroad to ayoid trouble, and though I in- 
 timated that I should do the same thing, and 
 moreoyer that disappearances were deceptiye, I 
 was warmly urged to adyise you to remain 
 where you are. Xs a consequence I adyise you 
 to do nothing of the sort, though, between our.- 
 selyes, it is always stupid to come back and ex- 
 plain things which need no explanation, and as 
 
106 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 for exoneration only sinners feel tne need of 
 that, perhaps then your best course is to 
 study ihe maxims of that Hindu philosopher 
 Avhose name is T Dhont Kare; try not to be a»ny 
 more particular than you have been in the ob- 
 servance of the Xlth commandment; and, in 
 any event, Tace et Memento. Divorces, as you 
 may be aware, are quite modish this year. They 
 are of all shades of green, cut low and behold, 
 with or without frills as personal taste dictates, 
 and are worn en train, sans pudeur et avec re- 
 proche. 
 
 " N. B. — Your wife would rather be dead than 
 out of the fashion. 
 
 " With this for carte da pays, choose your 
 own route. But which ever way you go, don't 
 talk back, it is middle-class to begin with, and 
 besides an insult ignored insults the insulter 
 more than the insulted. 
 
 " Yours in the bonds of Christian fellowship, 
 "A. B. Fenwick Chisholm-Jones." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 107 
 
 In a crescendo of bewilderment Nevius 
 turned to the furniture again. "Am I asleep? " 
 he asked. "Is this real, or a nightmare? Is it 
 actual or am I insane ? Who is it that shall be 
 nameless ? What is this rubbish about divorce ? 
 What is this obesity of the mind which Jones 
 mistakes for wit? What does he mean by 
 suggesting that I should remain where I am? 
 Remain where I am ! The steamer isn't built 
 that can carry me fast enough. One word 
 with Hilda, only one, and this farce will end?" 
 
 Yet would it? Presently, with a remorse 
 that was childish in its poignancy, one by one 
 he recalled the numberless instances in which 
 he had refused to take her to this function and 
 to that, the embargo he had placed on certain 
 of her associates, the mortification which she 
 must have felt because of his attitude to her 
 family, his surliness to her friends, the utter 
 perversity with which he had thwarted the one 
 
108 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 poor little wish she had ever expressed, the 
 natural, feminine desire to entertain and be 
 entertained in turn. 
 
 Ah, indeed, if it were because of these things 
 she was to leave him, he had no defence, not 
 one. He could only raise his hat and speed 
 her on her way. No doubt she would be hap- 
 pier, oh, much happier without him. 
 
 But was such a thing possible? Could it be 
 that the one being in all the world whom he 
 loved, whom he had loved for seven years with 
 a seven times seven increasing love, whom he 
 loved now with a prodigality of affection of 
 which he had been previously unaware, could 
 iis be possible that she was to leave him because 
 of this? 
 
 The accusation in regard to the woman j)er- 
 plexed, he knew it to be a delusion, one which 
 he could rout with a word. That which pres- 
 ently affected him was the suffering Hilda 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 109 
 
 must endure because of her belief in it. In 
 similar circumstances ^vliat would liis suffer- 
 ing-s be! AYliv tlieA- would drive liim mad. 
 But apart from that the thing which moved him 
 most was the fact that she could condemn him 
 unheard, that she could go to others for her 
 knowledge of him. It was not a thing he 
 could have done to her. Of that he was quite 
 sure. But on what, after all, had the condem- 
 nation been based? He was not a saint, far 
 from it. In spite of his present perplexity, 
 there had been moments when his deportment 
 to others had not been licit. But never, as the 
 phrase is used, had there been an affair, 
 fancies merely which at best, or at worst, had 
 not outlasted a week. "What was it then that 
 had come out"? Why was she dumb and 
 crushed ? 
 
 And then, suddenly as intuitions visit us un- 
 aided by anything more tangible than that ii]- 
 
110 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 tangible operation which has been christened 
 unconscious cerebration, a clew appeared and 
 vanished. 
 
 "By the living God! I believe it is some 
 nastiness of that Mrs. Anderson. If it is — " 
 
 He had sprung to his feet ; his hand clenched 
 menaced the gilding of the cornice, the filmy- 
 yellow of the curtains, the world that lay be- 
 yond. 
 
 But the sound of his voice must have 
 startled him ; he crossed the room, ashamed of 
 the outburst, and presently, aided by the under- 
 standing that if ever calm were required of 
 him it was then, he sat down again and strove 
 to think. 
 
 This was Monday. There would be no ship 
 from Havre till the end of the week, but on 
 Wednesday there was a choice of boats that 
 sailed from Southampton and Liverpool. It 
 was now high noon. At three the Club-train 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. Ill 
 
 left for Loudon. By midnight he could be there. 
 On the morrow he could engage passage. The 
 day after he could sail. A week later he 
 would be in New York, and one hour after he 
 put foot on shore this nightmare would be dis- 
 sipated and Hilda in his arms. Was he not 
 sure of her, and how few the words that would 
 serve to make her sure of him ? 
 
 Closing his eyes he saw her again, as he had 
 seen her the morning of his departure, her 
 dark hair falling about the sweetness of her 
 face, and in a voice that seemed tremulous 
 with emotion, imploring him to remember his 
 promise to return to her soon. 
 
 Yes surely, that promise he would keep, and 
 with a lunge at a tasseled cord, presently he 
 had Baptiste attending to his traps. 
 
 "Not the trouble to come to take oneself off 
 so swift, is it not, my sir ? But my sir will re- 
 come, very sure. The America, it is far how- 
 
112 MADAM SIPPHIRA. 
 
 ever. Beautiful land, eiio says, and rich! Ah, 
 how I wish my sir me would lead with him !" 
 
 Baptiste pottered away, mumbling to him- 
 self. But Nevius had gone. There was a 
 trinket at the jeweler's opposite which would 
 look well on Hilda's throat. Then, too, there 
 was a telegram to be sent to the Canal Com- 
 pany. These things accomplished, he was able 
 to eat an omelette, and get to the remote Gare 
 du Nord in time to catch the train. 
 
 The next morning he awoke bewildered. 
 What had happened to the Eue Castiglione? 
 Why was it so hushed? Where were the bird- 
 like trills of the hawkers? What had been 
 done to the roar and rumble of Paris ? And ^ 
 that sky of glittering tin, a pall had been 
 stretched across it. 
 
 The Bue Castiglione no doubt was as noisy 
 and as bright as ever. It was in Jermyn 
 street that he had awaked, in a room which 
 
MADAM SAPPHIBA. 113 
 
 overlooked the ghostliness of mews that lay 
 dumb and hidden beneath a fog of leprous 
 brown. 
 
 It was by candle that he dressed, and when 
 at last he was able to set out for the steamship 
 office his teeth chattered with the rawness of 
 the air. Hell is supposed to be hot, but fancy 
 it cold, and there can not be a pin to choose 
 between it and London in December. 
 
 The steamship office was in Cockspur street, 
 the throw of a stone beyond, but Nevius lelt 
 too numb and depressed to get there unforti- 
 fied. He went back to the hotel, ordered some 
 drink, and in the gloom of the coffee-room sat 
 a while, a copy of the Times before him. But 
 since when had that serious sheet appeared in 
 pink? 
 
 Before he could account for such levity, the 
 paper disappeared, the room as well, and when, 
 long after, he issued from a terrible struggle 
 
 8 
 
114 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 with rushing waters lie Yv'as lying on a bed; at 
 his side was a little man with white y/hiskers. 
 
 Neyius opened his eyes wider: 
 
 "I must have fainted, didn't I?" 
 
 The little man nodded confidentially, with 
 an air of approval. 
 
 " And a dom fine one it was altogether. Be 
 easy a bit now, you're not to get up this day." 
 
 "But I've got to," Nevius answered. "I've 
 got to get my ticket." Then he lost sight 
 of the little man, and when the white whiskers 
 again appeared it was after another combat 
 with thunderclaps and torrential streams. 
 
 The little man was prophetic as a ballad. 
 Nevius did not get up that day, nor on the 
 morrow, either, though for a while he was 
 permitted to look out at the dinginess of the 
 empty mews. But he looked T>^ith little pleas- 
 ure; he wn.R weak and coiifusod, find on hm 
 forehead above the left eyo, a hot iron Reemed 
 to be scaring the bona 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 115 
 
 ''"^hat is it?'' lie asked. 
 
 " We've been kicking over the traces, liayen't 
 v^-e'?'' tlie little man asserted with the same 
 confidential approving air. 
 
 "Not a bit." 
 
 " And dom stupid it would be if we 
 couldn't." 
 
 " But I haven't. I have been good as gold. 
 I don't know what nend of a microbe has 
 battened on me. I don't know vrhat can be the 
 matter with m*j h-ead." 
 
 And we've been angry, too. Anger is a 
 poison. We didn't know that, did we ? Strych= 
 nine congests the brain, anger congests the 
 liver." 
 
 " I don't see why you say that." 
 
 " When we go gunning for a lady in our 
 sleep, we know what has happened when we 
 were awake, don't we? We've got our system 
 upset, we've got something on our mind, and m 
 
116 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 for that paiu in our head, it's a taste of neural- 
 gia that will leave us with a bit of quinine." 
 
 Nevius took the quinine, and to the burn in 
 his forehead was added a roar in his ears. The 
 night was white; barely did he close his eyes; 
 to the agony of his temples was joined the 
 agony of his thoughts. He tried to sleep, but the 
 dual agony banished that benison, until at last 
 he remembered the porter and through his aid 
 succeeded in drugging himself with drink. 
 
 On the morrow, the little man changed the 
 medicine ; he ordered exalgine, and the burn in 
 the forehead went. But not on that day was 
 Nevius able to take ship, nor on the morrow, 
 either. A week went by before he could go. 
 Yet, meanwhile he had cabled to Hilda, telling 
 her of his illness, imploring her from across 
 the sea to remain where she was until he could 
 reach her and show her that it was she he 
 loved and none other. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 117 
 
 This clespatclied lie secured a prescription 
 for a solution o£ opium, cliloral aud chloroform 
 which did avray with any further need of arous- 
 ing the porter, and of which, when sleepless 
 and in pain, he was to take one-half of one 
 ounce. 
 
 It was on Thursday that he sailed. Eight 
 days later, at six in the erening, he landed at 
 Hoboken and drove to his house. 
 
ii8 
 
 MADAM BAPPHiSa* 
 
 IX. 
 
 The house was empty as a vacant bier, 
 barred and bolted, unliglited, and to his repeated 
 summons dumb. None the less, through that 
 curious optimism which will visit even the con- 
 demned, Nevius told himself that he was but 
 the victim of some accident, presently to be 
 explained. He was disheartened indeed during 
 the trip across he had done little but prefigure 
 the almost instant reunion, which must occur 
 when he stood once again face to face with his 
 wife, yet in spite of the agony of the disap- 
 pointment, as he descended the steps he 
 affected, through that duality common to cer- 
 tain natures, to make light of the whole thing, 
 and wondered what had become of Michette. 
 
 " Drive to the Brevoort," he ordered. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA, 119 
 
 But before the cab reached the avenue, the 
 current of his thought had veered, and counter- 
 manding the first order, told the man to drive 
 to the Snaiths. For it was there she must be. 
 And, a cigarette between his lips, he threv\^ him- 
 self back and resolutely dispossessed his mind 
 of thought. 
 
 The cigarette done, he began on another. 
 Before he had finished it, the carriage stopped 
 at that corner of Madison avenue where, years 
 before, he had sipped the brew whose effect was 
 •potent still. Through the glass above the door 
 came a light from the hall beyond. The win- 
 dows of the drawing-room, too, were lighted, 
 and from the rooms on either side of the en- 
 trance there came also a filter of gas. Yes, 
 she was there. And he rang the bell, not 
 violently, but with a certain energy of his own. 
 
 "Where is Mrs. Nevius?" 
 
 The woman who had opened the door, started 
 
120 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 as at a malefactor, but immediately slie re- 
 covered herself. 
 
 "I don't know, sir. Would you wisli to see 
 Mrs. Snaitli?" 
 
 Nevius nodded. For the life of him he could 
 not question the servant further. He entered 
 a reception room and stalked to and fro, though 
 whether for one minute or fifty, he afterward 
 forgot. The intermediate was submerged and 
 forever lost when Mrs. Snaith appeared. But 
 the cabman remembered, and for the purpose 
 of these pages that may suffice. 
 
 " Where is Hilda? " he asked, and, prompted 
 by the teachings of an earlier education, he 
 raised her hand to his lips. 
 
 Mrs. Snaith withdrew the hand and for a 
 moment eyed him strabismally, then in the 
 deprecatory manner which was peculiar to her, 
 addressed the floor. 
 
 "We thought — that is, we heard — Hilda 
 said that— you were to remain abroad." 
 
Mal;_ . 3IEA. 121 
 
 TVliere is she? I . . Iicr/' 
 
 Mrs. Snaitli fluttered lierpoliia hands. 
 
 " She is not \velh She is not well at all. 
 
 In fact, she is too ill to see Ton.'' 
 
 " To ill to see /i^^c'. Yriiat nonsense. I shall 
 
 see her. Is she upstairs r 
 
 As he spoke he turned. ]Mrs. Snaith made 
 
 no attempt to detai]i him. 
 
 Hilda is away," she remarked. "Mr. Snaith 
 
 is upstairs if tou care to see him., but won't 
 J- t. 
 
 the lawyers do?"' 
 
 Lawyers I "What lawyers ? ' * 
 
 Through sheer surprise Z^Irs. Snaith for the 
 first time in her life looked him in the face. 
 
 " Yrhen did tou o'et here? "" 
 
 " An hour ago." 
 
 " And donH you know that the suit has been 
 begun?*' 
 
 Xevius had been standing, but at this state- 
 ment he dropped into a chair and covered his 
 eyes. 
 
In a musing, contemplative way the lady 
 gazed at him, and presently, with a sort 
 inquiring defiance, she added — 
 
 " Of course you won't contest it." 
 
 Nevius looked up. There was such be- 
 wilderment in his expression that the lady 
 grew bolder. 
 
 " The lawyers say that it is a clear case," 
 she announced a little loftily. 
 
 "A clear case of what? Do tell me what 
 you mean." 
 
 Hilda wrote to you I am sure." 
 
 " Hilda wrote nothing. She told me that an 
 affair of mine had come out. That she was a 
 broken-hearted woman because of it. The in- 
 stant I got her letter I started to come hero. 
 If I have not got here sooner, it's through no 
 fault of mine. But I cabled her; didn't she 
 get it?" 
 
 Mrs. Snaith shrugged her shoulders. 
 
"It's all very well to send cablegrams from 
 London. What you ought to have done wa:- 
 to have behaved yourself in New York. And 
 it's all very vv^ell for you to look at me that 
 way. You know better than anyone. It took 
 Hilda a long time before she could believe such 
 a thing possible of either of you. But I knew 
 what kind of a creature she was the first time 
 I set eyes on her." 
 
 " But can't you tell me," Nevius cried, 
 " can't you tell me whom you mean? ' 
 
 Mrs. Snaith's thin lips filled with abundant 
 scorn. 
 
 " Why, your mistress, of course, that Adulam 
 girl-" 
 
 Nevius was on his feet by this time, the 
 expression in his face was not pleasant to 
 behold, he was quite white beside; and when 
 he confronted the lady, as he instantly did, his 
 voice was not wholly assured. 
 
124 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 "I Lave never contradicted a woman in mj 
 life, never to my knowledge liave I been un- 
 civil to one, bnt — " 
 
 He liesitated, and with a gasp wliich must 
 Lave been tlie escape of rage compressed, 
 abruptly Le mastered Limself. 
 
 " Nor will I begin with you." 
 
 TLere was a bell on tLe table, Le turned and 
 toucLed it. 
 
 " But it is my duty to Miss Adulam to say — " 
 A servant appeared, and interrupting him- 
 self, Le addressed Ler. 
 
 " Tell Mr. SnaitL I wisL to see Lim." 
 And as tLe servant disappeared Le added : 
 *' It is my duty to Ler to say tLat your 
 accusation would be monstrous wore it not 
 absurd." 
 
 TLe lady smiled stealtLily. Sucli a remark 
 could be treated witL disdain. And, smiling, 
 left tLe room. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIKA. 12b 
 
 Nevius neither saw nor heeded. He stood, 
 his head bowed, his hands behind his back, 
 till there came a shuffle of feet in the hall, and 
 an obese dwarf with an erjsipeliptic skin 
 halted in the doorway. 
 
 *'Well? mat do you want? I'll teach 
 you to cut me in the street. 
 
 Nevius reached for his hat and put it on. 
 
 " Your wife has charged Miss Adulam — " 
 
 "My wife? My wife isn't in the habit of 
 making charges — " 
 
 "Permit me, you are wrong, she is. It is 
 not so long ago she hired a parcel of detectives 
 to manufacture evidence against Moutrion, and 
 if Mrs. Montrion didn't use it, it was only be- 
 cause, as she told me herself, she was afraid 
 Montrion would shoot her." 
 
 " It's a lie." 
 
 "What your wife says in regard to Miss 
 Adulam may be so described. She knows it 
 
126 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 and so do yon. What Hilda thinks I have yet 
 to learn." 
 
 " If you don't know already, more fool you. 
 If you have come here v/ith any intention of 
 contesting this suit, you might as well go back. 
 The lawyers have daughters of their own and 
 they say they'll make an example of you." 
 
 "Ah! you may tell them from me that I will 
 contest it until the last armed court of appeal? 
 expires — which I suppose is just what they 
 want." 
 
 "By God then, if you do, I'll ruin you." 
 
 "And you may say, too, that I shall be at the 
 Brevoort until I can get into my own house, 
 and meanwhile whenever they take a fancy to 
 serve the summons — " 
 
 "You've been served," the dwarf shouted. 
 " You've been served by publication. When I 
 employ lawyers I g^t mr money's worth. The 
 papers are full of it " 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 127 
 
 Nevius ripped a glove in two. 
 
 " Do you mean that you liave got Miss 
 Adulam's name in connection with mine?" 
 
 In his voice were such angers, in his bearing 
 such threats, that the dwarf wheeled like a rat 
 sui'prised. 
 
 "Then you ought to be trampled under 
 foot," Nevius gnashed, and striding after him 
 cried, " In Hebrew there are four words for 
 reptile, in my vocabulary there is but one — 
 
 The old man squirmed to the stairs, shrieks 
 ing obscenities, fearful of attack. 
 
 But the front door opened and closed. Xev- 
 ius had gone. 
 
128 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA 
 
 X. 
 
 " Carol, this is the saddest thing that ever 
 happened to me." 
 
 On reaching the hotel, Neviiis, after securing 
 rooms, had sent for the papers. On the first 
 page of the one he first examined was his name 
 in leaded type, and beneath it, written in that 
 reporter spirit which stops not even at a col- 
 umn, was an account of the last sensation, the 
 petition of Mrs. Carol Nevius. for divorce on 
 the ground of her husband's adultery with 
 Janet Adulam and Gertrude Yuhrer. Though 
 he had eaten nothing since noon, he sickened 
 as he read, and was obliged to put the page 
 down. The remainder of the article declared 
 that after a painful scene at his house he had 
 confessed his misconduct and fled abroad. The 
 other papers contained articles of similar 
 
Madam sapphiea. 129 
 
 tenour, though one, more enterprising perhaps, 
 stated that the correspondents were the house- 
 maid and the cook. 
 
 An hour passed before Xevius could hold a 
 pen, then he had sent a message to Jones, and 
 now, as the novelist, cloaked in an Inverness, 
 the white of his neckcloth just visible, entered 
 the room, there was no cynicis2n in his voice, a 
 sympathy merely, abiding and sincere. 
 
 " The saddest," he repeated with just a 
 glance at where the papers lay. "If there are 
 words of consolation I do not know them." 
 
 "It is hideous," Nevius muttered. " I don't 
 wonder you advised me to remain where I 
 was — " 
 
 "Did I suppose — could any one suppose 
 such a thing possible? When I read that 
 drivel I was in a rage beside which the anger 
 of Achilles was a fleeting annoyance. Your 
 wife ought to be tarred and feathered." 
 
 9 
 
130 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 Nevius raised a hand in protest. 
 "It is not lier fault. It's that father-in-law 
 of mine." 
 
 , " Father-aZ-law you mean. But that's nei- 
 ther here nor there. The thing is done, and a 
 more abominable iniquity never was com- 
 mitted. That your wife should wish a divorce, 
 passe encore. But that in her effort to get it 
 she should put a young girl into leaded type, 
 a girl who was her intimate friend; a girl 
 whose people were governors of New York at 
 a time when the Snaiths, if they existed, were 
 cleaning the streets ; no, in the entire history 
 .of civilized life there is no parallel for it. 
 And who is this other correspondent? Why 
 didn't she stick to her and let Miss Adulam 
 out?" 
 
 "Hilda had nothing to do with it!" Nevius 
 answered dejectedly. "Don't say anything 
 against her. I can't and won't permit it." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 131 
 
 "Bosh." 
 
 But the novelist spoke in an undertone. 
 From a box on the table he took a gold-tipped 
 cigarette, at which article o£ London luxury he 
 sniffed, and for a while there was silence in 
 that room. 
 
 But presently Nevius, who had sat, his face 
 in his hands, looked wearily up at his friend. 
 "What do they say?" 
 
 "Who? People in general? Every one 
 seems to be very w^ell pleased. Some of the 
 men are indignant at the publicity, knowing 
 how, in similar circumstances, they would feel 
 themselves. Others are indignant, too, but 
 their indignation is partly envy, partly disgust, 
 at having no such chances themselves. As for 
 the women, that is a different guitar. You 
 have got one of their sacred sex into trouble, 
 and as a body they won't forgive. Though in- 
 dividually, were you not rather compromising 
 
 I 
 
132 MADAM SAPPIIIRA. 
 
 at present, you miglit toss moiiogrammed cam- 
 brics as before. On the whole, then, I may 
 say that people in general are rather pleased 
 than otherwise. There is a land where there 
 is much joy over the sinner that repents. In 
 the world we live in the joy is at his detection." 
 
 Neviiis leaned across the table. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that it is believed? " 
 
 " Well, you know — " And for a second 
 the unembarrassable Jones actually hesitated. 
 " You see, Carol, to be frank with you, more 
 or less, don't you know, for some time past 
 people have connected Miss Adulam's name 
 with yours. And they say, you know, that 
 there were times when she — well, when she 
 came to see you." 
 
 Nevius sank back. 
 
 *' But even so," he queried. " Even so — " 
 " Oh, if you put it in that light, in any light 
 for that matter, I am with you. Of course it 
 
MABAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 133 
 
 was sufficient for me to see it stated that you 
 had made a confession, to know that you had 
 done nothing of the sort. It is what we don't 
 do that gets into the papers, never what w^e 
 have done, which after all,'' the novelist added 
 to himself, " is sufficient for most of us. The 
 point is here, however, people had doubts, now 
 they have none. Naturally you will declare 
 Miss Adulam innocent, and the world will treat 
 her as though you had never opened your 
 head. But tell me, what sort of evidence have 
 they?" 
 
 "Evidence! As God is my witness that 
 girl is as straight as your sister." 
 
 The reply came so abruptly, in a voice so 
 indignant, and yet so earnest, that the novelist 
 stared. Not for a moment had he doubted but 
 that the facts were as Mrs. Nevius stated them. 
 
 His anger, his sympathy, too, were due to 
 the knowledge that people of ordinary refine- 
 
134: MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 ment do not permit certain forms of publicity. 
 That Miss Adulam had taken a step aside, that 
 Nevius had aided and abetted in the taking of 
 that step, were matters which concerned him 
 not in the least. To his thinking the wanton- 
 ness of the whole affair consisted in the fact 
 that Mrs. Nevius, in her desire for a divorce, 
 had not gone about it in such a way that no 
 one, not even the attorneys, could suspect that 
 there was so much as a shred of linen which 
 needed the services of a laundress. Men and 
 women of decent breeding sunk their private 
 grievances and separated with mutual delight, 
 no doubt, but also with common courtesy. The 
 act which Mrs. Nevius had committed was the 
 act of a scullion, at best of a young person in 
 Harlem. No matter how outraged she had 
 felt, refinement should have inhibited her from 
 disgracing a girl before the eyes of the multi- 
 tude. It was that which had aroused his 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 135 
 
 wrath, not once liad the suspicion come to him 
 that the charge might not be true. 
 
 But now as he stared at Xevius he saw that 
 it was false. He was far too old a bird to be 
 caught with chaff. He was far too good a 
 critio of private theatricals not to know the 
 true ring when he heard it, and as he saw in j 
 Neyius' face, in his bearing and attitude, that 
 transfiguring innocence which only the guilt- 
 less can display, he pounded the table with his 
 fist. 
 
 "By George then, if that's the case this 
 whole matter is more damnable than it was 
 before. Why, Carol, Bernhardt isn't in it with 
 your wife. " 
 
 " It' isn't my wife, I tell you, it's her people. 
 You know hoYv they acted in regard to Mon- 
 trion. They have done the same thing to me, 
 with this difference, Fanny Mortrion was behind 
 the scenes, and Hilda knew nothing until they 
 got their trumped charges in shape. It must 
 
136 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 have nearly killed her, though, puzzle as I may, 
 I don't see how they ever got her to believe 
 them, and what's more, I don't believe they 
 have. When I see her to-morrow it will take 
 me just one minute to disabuse her mind. Her 
 mother says she is ill, and God knows I am 
 too. " 
 
 "You've seen the mother, have you? 
 
 " Yes, she wouldn't tell me where Hilda 
 was, she kept repeating that she was too ill to 
 see any one. " 
 
 " She was at the opera to night " ; said 
 Jones very quietly. 
 
 "Impossible! " 
 
 "You may well say that, but I saw her. 
 She was with the Andersons in their box. I 
 asked Anderson how she could show herself 
 when the papers were dripping with the scan- 
 dal she Lad made — " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 137 
 
 " He laughed. ' She has come to enjoy her 
 revenge! ' he told me. " 
 
 Nevius got up, went to the sideboard and 
 pouring out a glass of whisky drank it off. 
 
 Jones watched him. When he turned the 
 novelist added: 
 
 " In the circumstances I wouldn't try to see 
 her. She has left you, it should be beneath 
 your dignity to approach her in any way." 
 
 Nevius shook his head helplessly. 
 
 "How dense you are! You don't or wont 
 understand. She is a w^oman after all, and no 
 matter how she may suffer she has too much 
 pride to show it. I think she ought not to 
 have gone to the opera to-night, whether she 
 believed this thing or whether she didn' t, and 
 I think too the Andersons alone could have had 
 the bad taste to invite her. But none the less 
 I make every excuse for her. Supposing our 
 position reversed, what is there that I might 
 not do?" 
 
138 madaim: sapphiea. 
 
 *' He has the faith of a little child, " the 
 novelist mused, "it's pathetic. " 
 
 "But tell me, what did she say when you 
 saw her?" 
 
 " Nothing very pleasant. To be candid, she 
 doesn't seem to have the same good opinion of 
 you that you have of her. " 
 
 And Jones, knocking the ashes from his 
 cigarette, added meditatively: 
 
 But then you may be both in error." 
 
 This little conclusion may not have reached 
 Nevius; he was pacing the floor. 
 
 " I know I have been selfish, " he muttered. 
 " Damn selfish. But I can't understand — " 
 
 " See here, dear boy. I will go to her to- 
 morrow. If she is to be argued with, I think I 
 can handle her. But do you get to bed; it's 
 after two, and you look like the devil. Leave 
 the matter in my hands." 
 
 Nevius stopped short in his walk and gazed 
 at his friend. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 139 
 
 " Do you know I don't realize it? I can't 
 realize it. But if by any chance I were con- 
 vinced that she was not to return to me — " 
 
 A gesture completed the sentence. 
 
 *' Bah !" And the novelist smiled compla- 
 cently. "Suicide is out of fashion, dear boy, 
 and vulgar too. Now listen to me. To-morrow the 
 Snaiths will probably let you into your house. 
 From what you said in your note I suppose you 
 will want servants. I will attend to that. 
 Now get to bed. I told you you looked like 
 the devil, I should have said — you did. The 
 devil is a very fascinating person, Carol, and 
 unless you take some care of yourself you will 
 entirely cease to resemble him." 
 
 Oh, no doubt; and the novelist gone, the 
 care which Nevius proceeded to take of himself 
 consisted in more whisky, and on top of it a 
 draught of the London drug. 
 
140 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The morrow was charming, half spring, half 
 autumn, with just that touch of frostiness which 
 makes the blood beat fast. Nevius shivered, 
 his eyes were heavy, his mind dull, his face 
 yellow and blotched, the mouth drawn. He 
 had looked at a mirror and had not looked 
 again. Whisky bloats and opium disfigures. 
 The ice water of a bath had brought a glow, but 
 that had gone; he was trembling ; it was a stim- 
 ulant he needed, no doubt, and he called for 
 absinthe. 
 
 With the drink a hall-boy came. There was 
 a gentleman below with some keys and a mes- 
 sage. Should he come up ? 
 
 Nevius, his hand Uncertain and vacillant, 
 swallowed the absinthe before he spoke. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 141 
 
 "Yes, he may come. And — ^vhat was it I 
 wauted? — oh, fetch the morning papers.'' 
 
 But the drink did him good. And pres- 
 ently, at a knock, he opened the door. 
 
 Before him stood a stout, young Jew, revolt- 
 ing as uncleanliness and vulgarity could make 
 him. Yet, who vaguely, desjDite his nose and 
 his youth resembled Mr. Snaith. 
 
 "Is your name C. Xevius? "Well, here's 
 some keys and a summons." 
 
 Nevius closed the door, the keys and sum- 
 mons in his hand. By whom could he he sum- 
 moned now '? But the mandate was perfectly 
 legible. The complainant was Hilda Xevius, 
 and did he not in twenty days appear or answer, 
 judgment for relief demanded would be taken 
 by default. Signed, Tooth and Tooth. 
 
 Tooth and Tooth? Ah, yes, the divorce 
 sharks. Service by publication was not suffi- 
 cient then. Apparently these gentlemen were 
 
142 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 in haste. And to think that Hilda could be 
 capable — 
 
 The boy had come with the papers, but his 
 coming and going passed unmarked. For an 
 hour, that seemed a minute, Nevius sat wonder- 
 ing at his wife. A man who suffers is never 
 bored. 
 
 But what did the hall-boy want now ? Mr. 
 Harding, of the Chronicle, was below, was he ? 
 And Mr. Robinson, of the Despatch, and Mr. 
 McGrath, of the Evening Star 9 Well, below, 
 deeper down even, for all of him they might 
 remain. And yet, had he only Hilda to con- 
 sider? "Was there not Jenny, too? 
 
 "Show them up," he ordered, and passing 
 into the bed-room changed his dressing suit for 
 morning garb. When he returned, the repre- 
 sentatives of the press were there. Mr. Hard- 
 ing, who was sharpening a pencil, took the 
 matter on himself. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 143 
 
 "Mr. Kevins, I believe? Mr. Nevius, Ibave 
 come to ask wbat you bave to say in reply to 
 the cbarges in yesterday's papers? You bave 
 seen tbein, I suppose?" 
 
 "Yes, I bave seen it stated tbat I made a 
 confession, and tben, to escape tbe conse- 
 quences, fled abroad. I bad no confession to 
 make ; I made none, and tbe fact tbat I am bere 
 sbould, I tbink, be evidence tbat consequences 
 do not intimidate me. To tbis I bave notbinij 
 to add, except tbat tbe cbarges brougbt against 
 tbe young women named in tbe complaint are 
 absolutely -witbout foundation." 
 
 " Sball you contest tbe suit?" inquired Mr. 
 Eobinson. 
 
 "If it is not witbdrawn, as I am convinced 
 it must be, I certainly sball." 
 
 ""What bave you to say in regard to Mrs. 
 Nevius?" 
 
 " Mrs. Nevius does not enter into tbe matter. 
 
144 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 There is no need for any mention of lier name." 
 
 "Yon tliink then," began the representative 
 of the Star^ " that the suit was instigated by- 
 third parties ? " 
 
 "I think nothing about it. I know. But 
 this gentleman — " and Nevius indicated Mr. 
 Harding " — asked if I had any statement to 
 make. I have made one. If you will publish 
 that and nothing else you will oblige me." 
 
 *' But—" 
 
 "At this moment, I regret, I am occupied 
 I must ask you to excuse me." 
 
 The door behind him was open, and through 
 it he retreated, angry with himself, angry with 
 fate, angry with the world. 
 
 When he returned, there was the hall- boy 
 again. This time with a note from Jones to 
 the effect that he had secured servants and 
 would look in later on. 
 
 " I send you the keys." Nevius scribbled 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 145 
 
 in reply. *' Tell the servants to meet me at the 
 house, and do come before midnight." 
 
 The answer despatched, he sat down and 
 tried to think, to forget rather and not to 
 remember. 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Already the afternoon had taken itself off. 
 A sun, red as ceiling-wax burned and subsided, 
 leaving a sky of dead rose and water-green. 
 Then shadows came, lapping the walls, devour- 
 ing the furniture, creating abysses into which 
 objects disappeared, mysteriously, one by one. 
 
 When night was wholly there, Nevius groped 
 for his hat and gloves. Presently he was in 
 the street, in a few minutes at his house. Yes. 
 Jones had been as good as his word. There were 
 lights in the windows and the outer door of the 
 vestibule was open. With a latch-key he let him- 
 self in. The hall was chill, bleak too, sonorous 
 beneath his tread. But where were the hang- 
 ings and tapestries, where were the plants, the 
 pedestalled lamps, the silken cushions, the 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 147 
 
 candles with their yellow shades, all the at- 
 tributes of ease that six weeks before had filled 
 the drawing-room? Surely this was not his 
 house, or else had the sheriffs passed that way. 
 But it was his house, and why was it dis- 
 mantelled? Where had the scent of the iris 
 gone? Ah, yes ; he remembered. These things 
 were Hilda's, all of them, even to the scent 
 of the iris, and in leaving him, necessarily she 
 had taken her chattels too. 
 
 And the floor above! Truly were it not for 
 the chill he mio^ht have thouo^ht it summer 
 time and Hilda off to the sea-shore, so properly 
 had little familiar things been put away. But 
 what was that on her bureau from which every- 
 thing else had gone? Nothing, a picture of 
 himself merely, overlooked, no doubt, p.nd for- 
 gotten. Yet was it a picture of himself? At 
 least if he had ever had the youth and alert- 
 ness with which the picture credited him, 
 never would he have them again. 
 
148 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 The library which so long and well had sep- 
 arated her room from his had, out of gratitude, 
 perhaps, been left untouched. There were the 
 yellow shelves of law, the darker tomes of his- 
 tory, and here, in smooth maroon, stamped with 
 the Nevius crest, were the classics of Greece 
 and Eome, Beyond were the caryatides of lit- 
 erary France, Corneille, Racine, Moliere, dusty 
 and undisturbed. But this empty space be- 
 neath ? Surely Hilda never could have taken 
 away the little gifts she had made him before 
 she bestowed that great gift which was herself. 
 The Owen Meredith from which in the gardens 
 of Bronx she had repeated to him: 
 
 Since we parted yester eve, 
 
 I do love thee, love, believe. 
 
 Twelve times dearer, twelve times longer, 
 
 One dream deeper, one night stronger, 
 
 One sun surer, thus much more 
 
 Than I loved thee, love, before. 
 
 The Aldrich from which he had read to her: 
 
 But there will come a time, my love. 
 When if I read our stars aright 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 149 
 
 I shall not linger at your side 
 
 TTith. my adieux, Till then, good-night. 
 
 You wish that time vrere now? And I! 
 
 You do not blush to wish it so? 
 
 You would have blushed yourself to death 
 
 To own as much a year ago. 
 
 And the Sonnets of Proteus: 
 
 TThat shall it matter, when our heads are gray, 
 AVhether we loved, or did not love to-day? 
 
 And the Swinburne: 
 
 A little while and we die: shall life not thrive as it may? 
 For no man imder the sky lives twice, outliving his day. 
 
 But though the rhymes returned unprompt- 
 ed, where were the books ? T\'here was the 
 Festiis, the Eosetti, the Tennyson ? Surely 
 she couki not have taken these gifts away. 
 But then, what had she done with herself? 
 And why did the gas burn so dimly? Or was 
 it a mist that had got to his eyes ? 
 
 "I beg pardon, sir — " 
 
 Xeyius started. At the door a man stood, 
 coatless, looking at him. I am Patrick, sir; 
 my wife is in the kitchen, would you — 
 
150 MADAM SArPHIEA. 
 
 "Yes, of course. I know. Let me see — 
 suppose you go to the Brevoort and get my 
 tilings. Tell them to seaid the bill to my office. 
 And what time is it? No, I can't eat anything, 
 but if there is any whisky lying about, you 
 might bring it up." 
 
 "Yes, sir; thank you, sir. Mr. Jones is in 
 the parlor. Shall I ask him here?" 
 
 But before the novelist entered the room, 
 Nevius lit a cigarette and hid his face in smoke. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, I have seen your princess, and so far 
 as I am concerned I can dispense with the 
 honor of seeing her again. Calumny is to her 
 what venom is to the adder, a sole defence. A 
 harder, an unjuster woman I have never met, 
 no not even in the masquerades of my own 
 fiction. Her entire accusation has no other 
 foundation than the tattle of the servants' 
 hall." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 151 
 
 " She is annoyed, Alphabet. So would I he. 
 Don't say anything against her. Ton don't 
 know her as I do. Yon don't know the letter 
 she wrote me. Her heart is breaking. But 
 when I see her to-morrow — " 
 
 " See her! You'll never see her till you meet 
 in court. She is furious, not at all because of 
 this thing, but because you have returned. 
 Her attorney told her they would get a divorce 
 in short order and here you are declaring you 
 will contest it. You have upset her calcula- 
 tions. She fancied she could be free a.t once." 
 
 "Yes, but then she didn't understand. I 
 assure you she will be very sorry when she 
 learns the truth, very sorry indeed — " 
 
 " H'm," the novelist sniffed and smiled. 
 " TVheu she is, I send my resignation to 
 psychology. She knows the truth, she has 
 always known it. Never for a second has she 
 believed the charge she has made.'*' 
 
152 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 "It is not Hilda; I have told you that. She 
 wrote me that she was so dumb and crushed 
 that her people took the matter entirely out of 
 her hands." 
 
 On the table at which Jones had seated him- 
 self, was a pile of bills and letters. On the top- 
 most was the imprint of the District Messenger 
 Service. Leisurely the novelist reached for it. 
 In the envelope were the vouchers of the 
 month before. Jones drew out one, then an- 
 other. 
 
 Tell me," he presently asked, "when did 
 you sail for Europe ? " 
 
 "The second of December." 
 
 "Your wife's attorneys are Tooth and Tooth, 
 are they not? So I thought. "Will you look 
 at this? It is dated 2d of December and ad- 
 dressed to Tooth and Tooth, who you will see 
 detained the messenger one hour and sent, an 
 answer which seems to have been received by 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 153 
 
 somebody who signed herself H. Nevius. Is it 
 your wife's writing?" 
 
 The ticket he k)ssed across the table. 
 Here is another, same date, same address. 
 Here is another dated the 4th. Here is an- 
 other dated the 5th. For a lady who was dumb 
 and crushed, whose affairs had been taken en- 
 tirely out of her hands, it seems to me that not 
 only she was very agile with the pen but — " 
 
 Nevius sprang at him fiercely. 
 
 " But what? It is on evidence of that kind 
 she has condemned me. Poor child, she knew 
 no better. But you, who have accused her of 
 listening to the tattle of the servants' hall, do 
 you expect me to descend the back stairs, 
 too? Give me those tickets." 
 
 Seizing and mutilating them he flung them 
 at his feet, and in the same hot wrath blurted: 
 
 *' If you have anything else to say against 
 my wife, say it, but do you say it to me." 
 
J 54 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 Eefiectively the novelist contemplated Ins 
 finger-tips, joiaed tliem, separated tliem, and 
 joined them again. 
 
 " There is a little operation I must perform 
 on you, Carol. One which will pain, but which 
 is necessary and charitable." 
 
 Mystified by this preamble, Nevius stared. 
 
 Jones stood up, closed the door, and whis- 
 pered to his friend. 
 
 The latter shrank, his eyes dilated, his 
 mouth agape. 
 
 "No, no, tell me; she never said that!" 
 
 " She has then, not to me alone, but to 
 everyone. That sweet little friend of hers, 
 Mrs. Anderson, with whom she is stopping, 
 fairly revels in it. There isn't a man in town, 
 nor a woman either, that won't hear it to- 
 morrow." 
 
 "When Jones got the scalpel in his hand he 
 knew where and how to cut. But then in this 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 155 
 
 instance lie was a trifle annoyed at the slur on 
 his friend. 
 
 "AYhen I heard it,"' he continued, "I did 
 not see the object. I have since. Mrs. Carol 
 understands what a mess she has made of it 
 all, and she is trying to exculpate herself at 
 any cost. If there is a single thing believable 
 or unbelieyable that she and Mrs. Anderson 
 are capable of inventing to your discredit, 
 invent it they will, and proclaim it too." 
 
 Nevius bowed his head. The hot wrath 
 must have gone. 
 
 "How sorry she will be,"' he muttere 1. 
 " How sorry, how sorry, how sorry she will 
 be." 
 
 What was there in that for Jones to laugh 
 at? Yet laugh he did. 
 
 "My little Hilda!" Covering his face, 
 Nevius leaned down and rested his arms on the 
 table. When he again looked up his eyes may 
 have been red, but they were steadfast stilL 
 
156 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 " Wait. Wait until I see her. For siie 
 must see me, or — " 
 
 Yes, I told her your ultimatum of last night 
 Would you like to know what she said? It is 
 not pleasant, but if it removes this cataract of 
 ,yours I don't mind. She said, and very affably, 
 mind you, in that little voice which I have 
 heard her affect when she wishes to impress: 
 ' Tell that man that nothing he might do could 
 cause me greater pleasure, except to send him 
 the pistol with which to do it. ' " 
 
 As in pain which is acute, Nevius dug his 
 nails into the palms of his hands, and for a while 
 his face, tortured with the retroacting currents 
 of conflicting thought, expressed only a suffer- 
 ing, sentient and visible. But gradually the 
 hands relaxed, the expression modified, and you 
 would have said that the cure which Jones had 
 attempted was without effect. 
 
 "From what you say," he ventured at last, 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 157 
 
 " I must believe that Hilda's condemnation of 
 me is complete. But then I have been horribly 
 selfish—" 
 
 "Her condemnation is so complete," the 
 novelist interrupted " that it absolves you from 
 condemning her. In the total lack not only of 
 justice but of decency which she displays, 
 comfort yourself as you seem disposed to do, 
 by being charitable to her and unjust to your- 
 self. It is not nineteenth century, no, but by 
 gad, its red-heel. Carol, I want you for a 
 book." 
 
 " — So selfish," Nevius repeated, " that some 
 day when you see her I want you to tell her 
 that I regret it from the bottom of my heart." 
 
 For a moment he looked down and away, but 
 almost immediately, with a smile that was its 
 own apology, he added: 
 
 " It's best to take people as they find us, isn't 
 it, Alphabet? You have been very good to me, 
 
158 MADAM SAPPHIBA. 
 
 very considerate, and you have borne magnifi- 
 cently with my ill temper. I want to thank 
 you, but I can't. I am a trifle tired, perhaps — " 
 
 " Yes, you had better get to bed. But I 
 want to thank you, and I can, for teaching me 
 that phrase. It is best to take people as they 
 find us. E vero ed ^ ben irovato. Trovaio? 
 E hen Trovaiore! " 
 
 "What is that saying of Ingall's?" he 
 mused as he passed down the stair. " 'It is 
 just as well to let dynamite alone, particular!]" 
 when it happens to be intelligent and has a 
 grievance.' When Nevius understands what I 
 do, he will kill that woman, and by George, 
 when he does, for the first time in my life I 
 shall want to be on the jury." 
 
 " Patrick, is that you?" he interrupted him- 
 self to ask. " Patrick, do you keep an eye on 
 Mr. Nevius, he is not at all well. Should he be 
 ill during the night send for me at once, don't 
 
MADA^r SAPPHIRA. 159 
 
 call a messeuger, riiig up a cab. and tell the 
 driver it's a fiver it lie gets me liere in no 
 time/' 
 
 AVitli tliat, this serviceable writer of immoral 
 fiction buttoned his Inverness and left the 
 house. 
 
 "Patrick," said Xevius a little later, "here 
 is a prescription, take it to Asquitlrs on the 
 corner, get it filled and tell the druggist I want 
 to speak to him. Ton found some whisky, did 
 you? Very good, put it there.'' 
 
 Potiring a little of the liquor ottt, he drank it 
 off. Under its influence the stupor fell from 
 him. He began a letter, which must have been 
 diffi-Cidt however: the rio'ht words would not 
 always come and there was a blur in his eyes 
 besides. But lie got it done, and addressing it 
 to his wife, .immediately be began another t) 
 Miss Adulam, a third to Tredeo^ar. In writing: 
 these also his pen often stopped, hesitant and 
 
160 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 perplexed, but when at last tliey were all 
 finished, and on a fresh sheet he began the 
 "Know all men by these presents his pen went 
 rapidly enough, as he devised his property, 
 real and personal, of whatever kind, nature and 
 description, to Hilda Nevius, her heirs, execu- 
 tors and assigns forever. 
 
 " The druggist is below, sir." At the door 
 stood Patrick. " Shall I leave the prescription 
 with you?" 
 
 " Yes, put it there. Ask him up. And, Patrick, 
 do you wait." 
 
 A moment, and Nevius rose in greeting of a 
 meager man in a frock coat 
 
 *' Mr. Asquith, this is very kind of you. 
 Here is my will. Will you witness it for me ? 
 
 " Certainly, anything to oblige." 
 
 " I sign it then in your presence. Put your 
 signature here, please, and your address. Pat- 
 rick, I want you to witness it too. Thank you 
 both very much." ^ 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 161 
 
 " Nothing else, Mr. Nevius, is there?" 
 
 No, there was nothing, and presently when 
 he was alone again he repeated that word a 
 little sadly to himself. 
 
 " What was that I once heard Jones say?" he 
 queried. " We should prolong life, not death ? 
 That is it ; and this is death. Well, let me not 
 prolong it." 
 
 Before him was the prescription; opening it 
 he filled a goblet to the brim and tossed it off. 
 How good it was ! A little hot to the throat, 
 a little cloying to the palate, but clean to the 
 tongue, fragrant, too. 
 
 On the mantel lay his hat, he took it up 
 
 and seating himself, his head covered, he drew 
 
 on a glove and buttoned it. But why were 
 
 the books, the yellow shelves of law, the darker 
 
 tomes of historv, retreating- throuo^h that little 
 
 space which he had noticed earlier in the night ? 
 
 Before he could account for anything so 
 1 1 
 
162 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 strange, the walls, too, had retreated, joy and 
 fear, love and anguish, all had gone and in 
 their stead was oblivion and rest for memory. 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 163 
 
 XIII. 
 
 "Imbecile that you are I Don't yon know, 
 Laven't I told yon. haven't I arch-told yon 
 that nothiug conld canse her greater joy?'' 
 
 " Bnt what a reason! Am I to live merely 
 becanse my death might gratify another?" 
 
 "With an expression that was both fnrions 
 and induic^ent. Jones o^lowered in amicable 
 rage. 
 
 "And truly," Xevius added, ■"I don't thank 
 -any of you.'' 
 
 Long before he had awaked, conscious, if at 
 all, only that people were leaviug the room. 
 Presently he had recognized Patrick ; at once 
 the episode of the preyious night returned, and 
 with it the perception of failure. Later he 
 learned that Patrick, attracted by his breath- 
 
164 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 ing, alarmed at his attitude, had sent for a 
 physician, for Jones as well. The physician 
 had been the first to arrive, and after hours of 
 labor, had gone, threatening to prosecute the 
 druggist. 
 
 But now, three days later, clothed and in his 
 right mind the resurrected sat talking with his 
 friend. 
 
 " No," Jones answered. " That would be 
 mediaeval. I mean nothing so Hugoesque. 
 But, dear boy, you have no right to leave the 
 planet until yon have shown this accusation to 
 be as false as you and I know it to be. The 
 bare bodkin may be simpler, but it is not at all 
 chivalrous to leave Miss Adulam in the plight 
 she is. Can't you understand that if this ef- 
 fort had succeeded even her own mother would 
 have believed that the story was true? No, you 
 must live for the reporters, you must live for 
 your wife, and meanwhile get a verdict. When 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 165 
 
 you have got that kill yourself as often as you 
 like. Yet there is just the eccentricity of the 
 whole thing, man never commits suicide 
 twice. If he recovers he has no desire to re- 
 peat the experiment, and if he doesn't that is 
 the end of that. But don't you have anything 
 to drink in this house ?" 
 
 Oh, yes. Though little else had been dis- 
 coverable drink there was in plenty, and pres- 
 ently, comforted by a Scotch and soda, the 
 garrulous novelist ran on : 
 
 "But whatever possessed you to do a thing 
 of that sort with your hai on ? Do you know, 
 that is v^^hat we call a document. I shall have 
 a suicide in my next novel merely for that hat- 
 I would give the whole story, for that matter, 
 were it not so bald. It would not do for New 
 York. Here the reporter can be as pornograph 
 as the Marquess of Sade, if he knows how, and 
 he usually does, but the novelist must be like 
 
166 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 Marguerite's home, chaste and pure. We are 
 willing enough to applaud Tristan and Isolde, 
 when it is put to music and sung in a language 
 which is not a court-tongue. But beyond that 
 we won't go. The unbribable Comstock won't 
 let us. But even apart from that, I couldn't 
 handle the thing. No one would think it prob- 
 able, and to my reputation for realism a long 
 farewell." 
 
 The novelist looked into his glass. "It's a 
 good subject though. A deuced good subject. 
 I might call it, let me see — I might call it 
 Bagatelles, yes. Bagatelles or One of the Ten 
 Commandments. 
 
 " Why not several of them while you are 
 about it?" 
 
 "Several of the Ten Commandments?" 
 Why, that would be a tip-top title. Take in all 
 classes of readers. Dear boy, if you don't 
 object I think I will." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 167 
 
 Nevius jumped from liis seat. 
 If you say one word," lie cried hotly, " one 
 word that a microscopist could detect as re- 
 ferring to my wife, by the Lord Harry 1*11 put 
 daylight through you.' 
 
 " Dear me ! " mumbled Jones, " how was I to 
 suppose that you were in love with her still ?" 
 
 At that you should have heard Nevius 
 bluster. How he ranted, how he raved! In 
 love with her"? The idea! Ko indeed, not he. 
 And when at last for sheer lack of breath he 
 stopped, of the entire diatribe Jones believed 
 actually not one word. 
 
 But, false friend that he was, he nodded as 
 though he did. ' 1 
 
 " That's right, that's the way to talk, that's 
 the way you must talk to O'Donnell. We 
 went over the whole matter to-day. He'll 
 be here now at any moment." 
 
 And, vatic as usual, Mr. Jabez O'Donnell, a 
 
168 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 member of the bar, still young, yet already 
 famous, a man with the face of a cherub and" 
 the guile of a fox, was promptly announced. 
 
 " This," said Jones, as the lawyer entered, 
 *'this, my dear O'Donnell, is my friend and 
 brother in Christ, Mr. Carol Nevius. His re- 
 tainer will be large, his refreshers abundant. 
 Let me earnestly commend him to your care." 
 
 "Devil a bit of a retainer will I take;" the 
 gentleman answered with great cordiality and 
 a little brogue, "I am out for gore, not for 
 coin." 
 
 *' Bravely said," cried Jones, glass in hand, 
 toasting the occasion, toasting everything, 
 toasting illicit commerce. "You are pleased to 
 meet Nevius, I know; and as for him, he 
 radiates with delight." 
 
 And at the way Nevius smiled, any one 
 might have thought that really he was* enjoying 
 himself. Yet, how curious it was that ths 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 169 
 
 moment the smile visited his lips, a verse of 
 Byron's fluttered there too: 
 
 "And if I laugh at any mortal thing 
 'Tib that I may not weep: and if I weep 
 ' Tis that our nature can not always bring 
 Itself to apathy." 
 
 Poseur ! sneered Jones, in an indignant 
 aside. 
 
 Mr. O'Donnell seemed to appreciate, " I 
 understand you, Mr. Xevius. I understand per- 
 fectly. It is a dreadful thing to have one's 
 name in the papers." 
 
 ''And still more dreadful not to." 
 
 This interruption came, of course, from the 
 novelist. Xo one paid any attention to him. 
 The lawyer continued: 
 
 ''The outrage in this instance is heightened 
 by the fact that there need have been no pub- 
 licity at all. Professional etiquette, if nothing 
 else, should have prevented Tooth and Tooth 
 
170 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 from serving you by publication. Tliey tell 
 me that they did not know you were a member 
 of the bar, and as their acquaintance is limited 
 to those who practice in the General Sessions, 
 that is a thing which I can believe. They also 
 tell me that Mrs. Nevius represented that you 
 would not return to this country. They pre- 
 tend to be vexed at the mistake, but I have 
 reasons for thinking that they regard the whole 
 business as an excellent advertisement. Now 
 permit me to ask a question. What sort of a 
 man is your father-in-law? They seemed to 
 have been employed by him before. One 
 would hardly think such a thing possible, but 
 is he at all of their class of life? " 
 
 " Between the man who pays to have a young 
 girl defamed and the men who take the money 
 and do the job," Nevius promptly and grimly 
 replied, "honors are easy." 
 
 That they are, Mr. Nevius, that goes with- 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 171 
 
 out saying. But if I ask, it is because from 
 ^vliat Tooth aud Tooth tell me he is not so 
 dogmatic as he was before you returned. It 
 appears that the night you landed he nearly 
 gave up the ghost.'' 
 
 "He could hare had no interest in doing so, 
 however." 
 
 "No, precisely not, and perhaps for that 
 reason he didn't. But understand me; Jones 
 says that the plaintiff is not to be argued with, 
 and is determined to push the thing to the end. 
 If such be the case, there is no use losing 
 time with her. But if her father were prop- 
 erly approached, might not something be 
 done?" 
 
 " Beyond asking him to play pendulum I 
 see nothing." 
 
 The lawyer laughed. "He hasn't inspired 
 you with much regard, has he? " 
 
 "Yes," Nevius answered. "Yes, to such 
 
172 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 an extent even that I have put him in my will. 
 Mr. Snaith is a member of the Society for the 
 Protection of Animals, and in recognition of 
 his affection for beasts, I have left him a 
 mirror." 
 
 Jones, rolled over in spasms of delight. 
 " Oh! Carol! hoiv I wish I had said that! " 
 
 In unconscious rememoration of the famous 
 retort which in similar circumstances was fired 
 point blank at another man of letters, Nevius 
 turned to him and consolingly answered; 
 "There, never mind, Alphabet. You wiliy 
 
 Then with a deprecatory glance at the 
 lawyer, who was laughing still, he prepared to 
 return to facts. 
 
 "Forgive me, Mr. O'Donnell. My levity 
 is out of place, in poor taste as well This is 
 tragedy, not farce. You will believ^> me when 
 I say that nothing is further from my mind 
 than a desire to jest." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 173 
 
 "I follow you there. I know quite how you 
 feel. Years ago a man called on a physician ; 
 *Iam terribly depressed,' he said. * I want 
 something to stir me up,' 'Go and see Grim- 
 aldi,' the physician answered. ' He will make 
 you laugh.' ' I am Grimaldi,' the patient 
 replied. But to get down to business again. 
 Tooth and Tooth have made a proposition, one 
 however which they declare is made entirely 
 on their own responsibility. It is this. They 
 claim to have all the evidence they require 
 against Miss Adulam, but the evidence against 
 Miss Ytihrer, while equally plentiful, is not, to 
 use their expression, so convenient. Noav they 
 offer to withdraw the charge against Miss 
 Adulam, providing that you will supply them, 
 through a third party of course, with a few 
 additional facts concerning your acquaintance 
 with Miss Yiihrer. This proposition, they 
 wish me to assure you, is made solely out of 
 
174: MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 deference to you. What shall I tell them?" 
 
 "What shall you tell them?" repeated 
 Nevius wearily. " There is naturally no use 
 in telling them that I am incapable of desert- 
 ing the helpless, for they would not understand. 
 But tell them I say they are shysters, that the 
 suit may be withdrawn, that I have nothing to 
 gain at their hands, and they will understand 
 the message thoroughly." 
 
 " Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes," the un- 
 crushable Jones threw in. "And by the way, 
 Carol, Dona Ferentes! What a tip- top name 
 for the plaintiff! " 
 
 The lawyer nodded to his client. " I might 
 have expected such an answer. But look at it 
 in this light, wouldn't it be better — " 
 
 " There can be no better," Nevius interrupt- 
 ed. " And no worse. Miss Adulam is a young 
 gentlewoman whom I have known all my life. 
 Could I in any way sacrifice myself for lier I 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 175 
 
 would do SO, but I can not sacrifice an innocent 
 girl, nor, pre- supposing I could,, would Miss 
 Adulam permit me. Of Miss Adulam's justi- 
 fication tliere is no manner of doubt. If Tooth 
 and Tooth, in saying that they have all the 
 evidence against her which they require, speak 
 truthfully, they have been imposed upon, pre. 
 cisely as Mrs. Nevius has been. There can be no 
 evidence. Not a charge can they substantiate. 
 They may have perjury at command, no doubt 
 they have, in which case we shall know how to 
 act when we get it in court. As for Miss 
 Ytihrer, I did not know her first name, nor how 
 her last was written until I saw it in the com- 
 plaint. I have seen her but four times in my 
 life. I never knew that she existed until Mrs. 
 Nevius brought her into this room. Were I to 
 act as Tooth and Tooth suggest, what would you 
 think of me ? And what should I think of my- 
 self?'" 
 
176 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 The lawyer took a long breath before he 
 spoke. 
 
 " They have got something, make up your 
 mind to that, though whether it be perjury or 
 not I can't say. But they intimate they are in 
 a position to prove a confession made by you 
 to Mrs. Nevius previous to your departure." 
 
 For a moment Nevius fumbled in a drawer 
 of the table. 
 
 "Yes, I know," he answered. "I read 
 something of the kind in the papers. But 
 just look at this. "When I sailed Mrs. Nevius 
 gave me a list of things which she wanted me 
 to get for her in Paris. This morning I sent 
 them to her. Here is an acknowledgment from 
 her mother. It is hardly supposable, is it, if I 
 left Mrs. Nevius in the manner which Tooth 
 and Tooth describe, that she should ask me 
 the morning I sailed, to purchase corsets, 
 gloves and lingerie?" 
 
, MADAM SAPPHIEA. 177 
 
 " The morning yon sailed? ' 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "And this list is in her handwriting? " 
 "It is.'" 
 
 "Why, then,'"'' exclaimed the lawyer, "they 
 can trot ont all the perjury they like. That 
 bit o£ paper stumps them. The alleged offences 
 were condoned." 
 
 To this Nevius assented absently. " There 
 must be no such plea though. The denial of 
 the allegations is all that is required. They 
 can never prove one." 
 
 "No doubt, no doubt." And the lawyer 
 rose to go. "But I do not need to tell you 
 that the greatest mistake a man can make is to 
 underrate his adversary's abilities." 
 
 " Unless it be," laughed Jones, " to over- 
 rate his own." 
 
 14 
 
178 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIBA. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Like a lethargic snake disturbed, winter 
 dragged itself away. April came, and with it 
 an eager glitter, the surprise of violets, skies 
 of silk, wadded with films of white cotton, all 
 the caresses and surrenders of spring. 
 
 Upper Fifth avenue was well in the move- 
 ment, alive with smart traps, Piccadilly ac- 
 cents, gems of bonnets, and grooms, the arms 
 folded, impassible, correct. In all the world 
 prettier women there are not than in that 
 parade which circles through the Park, and 
 descends again just in time to intercept the 
 dusk. No, nor daintier either. 
 
 And pretty and dainty as the prettiest and 
 daintiest, Mrs. Carol Nevius looked that spring 
 On her lips was the pink of the sea-shell, and 
 
SAPPHIEA. l79 
 
 in the cleptlis of her sultry blue eyes the faint- 
 est petition for that sympathy Tvhich imaginary 
 wrongs deserve. Ah, it was a pleasure to see 
 her= 
 
 That pleasure was not enjoyed by her hus- 
 band. But in those days his pleasures were 
 few. TTomen, whom he had known all his 
 life, forgot to remember him. Men. with whom 
 he had lived on terms of off-hand familiarity, 
 had become punctiliously polite. 
 
 These things were nothing in comparison to 
 others. The letter which he had sent rather 
 blurred to his wife had been returned through 
 Tooth and Tooth, with the intimation that he 
 was persecuting her. The letter which he had 
 sent to Miss Adulam had been answered by her 
 mother; the girl was lying at the house of her 
 uncle, Erastus TTilberforce, too ill to hold a 
 pen. From Tredegar no answer came, a rumor 
 merely that the boy was drinking himself to 
 death. 
 
180 
 
 MADAM SAPPHlRA. 
 
 Then, too, the divorce required in such haste ^ 
 that service by publication was necessary, lan- 
 guished, moribund and mute. And not at all 
 because of the calendar. On motion it could 
 have gone before a referee at once. But the 
 Snaiths had other matters to attend to, though 
 a girl was dying because of them, and a lad was 
 throwing his life away. 
 
 Nevius ceased to be seen. His office v/as 
 closed. The Canal Company, with perfect 
 civility, dispensed with his services; other cor- 
 porations for whom he had acted withdrew 
 their business from his hands. That Mr. 
 Snaith had been at work he understood, but it 
 was long before he understood that that gen- 
 tleman's object was to attack the sinews of war, 
 and thereby, the law's delays continuing, to 
 force him to capitulate. When the understand - 
 ing did come to him, he reflected with some 
 satisfaction that while skies were still fair he 
 had cut that gentleman in the street. 
 
MADAM SAPPHircA. 181 
 
 Meanwhile, lie stalked, iincompanioned, 
 throuofh the untellable loneliness of that 
 ghastly house, seeking a clue to the mystery 
 that was devastating three li\es. 
 
 That Hilda had cared for him he had to be- 
 lieve, or else to regard her as an actress more 
 consummate even than Eachel. For where t^^s 
 the actress who could assume a rol@ and hold 
 it, impeccably, not for a season alone, not so 
 many nights a week, but every minute of seven 
 years? That she knew her accusations to be 
 false he was now convinced. TTith these for 
 premises what conclusion could he draw? It 
 could not be that after years of tenderness she 
 had left him, because there were moments when 
 he was irritable and perverse. ISo, surely that 
 was not the cause. !Nor could it be that she 
 had left him because her father had threatened 
 disinheritance. Judas, indeed, had been bribed, 
 yet, while in the present instance the bribe was 
 
182 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 greater, still, though times had changed and 
 living become more expensive, Nevius was 
 unable to accept any solution such as that. 
 Beside, not being a bit more heroic than the rest 
 of us, a conclusion of that kind diminished him 
 in his own esteem. 
 
 In the night of his perplexity a single ray 
 had come. Jones had enjo,yed a second conver- 
 sation with this lady, in which Mrs. Nevius, 
 after stating that the man whose name she had 
 taken, was heedless beyond the power of words, 
 that he had constantly borrowed her button- 
 hook, added, by way of summing up, that she 
 had married him uniquely to go into society, 
 and as he had refused to take her, he should 
 bear the consequences without complaint. 
 
 That was the ray of light, tremulous and 
 thin no doubt, but which, by reason of the 
 darkness in which he groped, led him ulti- 
 ^i^tely to what he regarded 9,^ the day. As 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 183 
 
 steppiDg-stones lie had two facts, one patho- 
 logical, the other psychological. The patho- 
 logical fact was this: Women who at recur- 
 rent intervals suffer greatly, are afflicted not 
 only physically, but mentally as well. Their 
 minds become the haunt of vagaries, of illu- 
 sions, sometimes of madness, too. For these 
 sufferings, for these vagaries and illusions, 
 there is but one cure, one to which nature 
 prompts — motherhood. The psychological 
 fact hung like a corollary to the first. When 
 a woman has lived seven years with a man and 
 borne him no child, unintentionally it may be, 
 yet instinctively that man she hates. 
 
 At the intervals alluded to, Hilda, he was 
 aware, had suffered for days with an intensity 
 of agony which was pitiful to behold. More- 
 over, as the years accumulated, the union had 
 remained unblessed. Such maternal affection 
 as she possessed had been given to him, to 
 
184 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 the cat; but Nature, who is not to be balked, 
 was there and watching, and this was the 
 revenge. 
 
 Such was the solution to which at last he ar- 
 rived. The accusations which she had made 
 had been hatched in the distemper of her 
 brain, and the venomous hatred which she had 
 abruptly displayed was but the working of a 
 natural law. 
 
 Logical as it was, this solution did not by 
 any means come at once. Winter had gone, 
 spring was going, and still he groped until, 
 aided by the ray which Jones had intercepted, 
 suddenly he divined the truth. She is in- 
 sane, he decided, and told himself that of that 
 insanity he would cure her yet. 
 
 Thenceforth he had that for an aim. What 
 loyalty, what gentleness, what divine courtesy 
 and affection had not an English gentleman just 
 displayed to a woman who had forever dis- 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 185 
 
 graced him, who stood, the whole worki looking 
 on, a convicted felon at the dock ? And should 
 he, Carol Neyius, be other than loyal, courteous 
 and gentle too? The malady which had 
 prompted that fair English girl to steal was 
 the same, no doubt, as that which had 
 prompted his wife to libel. And when at last 
 the prison door re-opened, was not that En- 
 glish gentleman there waiting to take his wife 
 in his arms and carry her off to where health 
 and sanity might be. And when this trial was 
 at an end should not he, too, take his wife in his 
 arms and carry her thence and nurse and 
 guard her until reason returned and love as 
 well? Ah, indeed he would. The cases were 
 not parallel, but if it comforted him to think so, 
 let that comfort be not begrudged. 
 
 In this wise months retreated, but with June, 
 presto ! a change. Enervated by the delay, 
 possessed, perhaps, of a clearer understanding 
 
186 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 of resources and temperaments, Mrs. Nevius, 
 in spite of her father and his policy, goaded 
 her attorneys into asking that the matter be 
 bronght before a referee. 
 
 The day on which that motion Avas asked 
 and granted, a curious episode occurred. Mr. 
 O'Donnell was offered by an individual whom 
 previously he had never seen, ten thousand 
 dollars in current coin if he would agree to let 
 the suit go against his client, ten thousand 
 more if he carried out the agreement. 
 
 " It is not enough," was O'Donnell's reply. 
 
 On the morrow the offer was doubled, and on 
 the morrow the reply was the same, 
 
MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 187 
 
 The day was hot and liumid. In Upper 
 Fifth ayenue green blinds were dowm, and 
 grey doors were np. In the Park there were 
 still carriages, but latterly smartness had been 
 confined the traps of the cocottes, the ethers 
 had livery stables without, the provinces with- 
 in. Society had vanished to cool retreats, to 
 country houses, and distant shores. In Wall 
 street the chief change was the disappearance 
 of the high hat, the frequency of straw. Men 
 walked more leisurely, too, fanning themselves, 
 choosing the shadows; some were un waist- 
 coated, and some wore handkerchiefs about 
 the neck. 
 
 But that little lady with a waist that would 
 fit in a garter, and who, merely in stepping 
 
188 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 from her carriage, pervaded the Nassau corner 
 with aromas of the Eue de la Paix, she surely 
 should be at Newport. And that obese little 
 man with the look of one to whom Truth is 
 always stranger than Fiction, what was he doing 
 at her side? Surely he belonged on the box. 
 
 And who were these females in clothes not 
 made for them who had just got from a cab? 
 Surely they were detectives, and their duty to 
 protect the little lady from the machinations 
 of that unliveried lackey at her side. 
 
 And who, too, was this ponderous person that 
 was now addressing them all. Why had he 
 such a terrible twang ? And why, as he spoke, 
 did his words sound like wind escaping from a 
 bladder inflated? 
 
 Mystery to all but one that passed that way. 
 And he, though it was hot and humid, at sight 
 of them grew cold. To the lady he raised his 
 hat, and passing into the building before which 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 189 
 
 this disparate group was assembled, liad, him- 
 self, shot like a rocket five stories high ai d 
 landed in the office of the Hon. John Met- 
 uchen, appointed by the court referee in the 
 case of Nevius versus Nevius. 
 
 There was O'Donnell, and there, talking to 
 him, was a white-haired gentleman with a 
 patrician bearing to whom the intruder was in- 
 troduced. 
 
 "Mr. Metuchen, permit me, this is my 
 client, Mr. Nevius." 
 
 "Your most obedient servant, sir," mur- 
 mured that courtly old man. Thereat lawyer 
 and client passed into an inner room. 
 
 Nevius dropped in a chair. "They're be- 
 low," he mumbled. "But what has she come 
 for? She can't testify." 
 
 " To the fact of the marriage, she must, and 
 that there has been no previous application. 
 But that done, presumably she will go." 
 
 " I did not expect^ — ^' 
 
190 MADAM SAPPHIM. 
 
 The sentence was never finislied. Mrs. 
 Carol had entered, and at sight of her the 
 defendant grew mute. But he rose from his 
 seat, reseating himself only when that ponder- 
 ous person who followed had found her a chair. 
 Immediately, Mr. Metuchen appeared. Then 
 a man with paper and pencils, then two fe- 
 males, escorted by Mr. Snaith. 
 
 The room was large, high-ceiled, yet to Nev- 
 ius it seemed very small. O'Donnell and he 
 were at the end of a long table, at the other 
 end of which Mr. Metuchen sat down. On the 
 inner side was the stenographer. And beyond, 
 at the window, the others had taken seat, all, 
 in fact, save the ponderous person, who seemed 
 inclined to stand and domineer. 
 
 He was saying something, but what ? Nev- 
 ius neither knew nor cared ; he was watching 
 his wife who presently, with that air and man- 
 ner he loved so well, advanced a little and be- 
 
MADA3I SAPPHIEA. 191 
 
 D'au to tell about one or two tliiusfs which no 
 one questioned. Then the business of the 
 hearino' seemed about to beo-in. 
 
 "Just bring your chair a little nearer, 
 Becky." 
 
 Becky? Who was Becky? But as one of 
 the females tilted her eeat, Xevius recognized 
 the Eebecca of old. But to what was she to 
 testify? 
 
 Xow Becky," twanged jhe ponderous per- 
 son, " what is your name? Eebecca Hawes ? 
 Tery good. And how old are you, Becky? 
 Yery good. Haye you eyer seen this lady be- 
 fore? Oho! yoivye liyed Avitli her, haye yon? 
 In what capacity? As waitress, eh? And 
 haye you eyer seen that gentleman? xlha! 
 He is Mr. Xeyius. is he? Xow Becky, what 
 were your duties as waitress? To wait at 
 table ? To serye at meals ? Tery good, yery 
 good. And what else? You answered the 
 
192 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 door, did you? Alia! You answered the door! 
 Now, Becky, in answering the door, in waiting 
 on the table, did you ever see any one by the 
 name o£ Janet Adul am? Oh, you have, have 
 you? Often? Very often, eh? Very good, 
 Becky, very good. Ever heard Mrs. Nevius 
 say anything about her?" 
 
 "Ject," snapped O'Donnell. 
 
 " Well, Counsellor," the ponderous man 
 with great afiPability retorted, " we won't 
 quarrel over a little thing like that; I'll get at 
 it in another way." 
 
 "Now, Becky," he continued, "Mrs. Nevius, 
 so far as you could see, treated this Adulam 
 girl like a friend, didn't she — " 
 
 Nevius raised a hand. 
 
 " I submit, your Honor, that the attorney 
 should not be permitted to refer to this young 
 gentlewoman in the manner which he has 
 done." 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 19? 
 
 The referee looked up. 
 
 ^' I think, Mr. Tooth, that Mr. Nevius is per- 
 haps right — " 
 
 " Oh! oh! " the man protested, " that's only 
 my way." 
 
 " The way of a cad," muttered Nevius. 
 
 But the attorney, accustomed since boyhood 
 to being so described, caught up the thread 
 unruffled. 
 
 " Xow, Becky, am I to understand that you 
 regarded this Miss Adulam as a friend of Mrs. 
 Xevius? I am, am I? And why am I? Be- 
 cause she was always coming there, eh? Well, 
 cominof where? Oho! to the Xevius house! I 
 see, I see. But you say she was always coming 
 there. You don't mean that she liked it so 
 mucli that she used to come when Mrs. Nevius 
 wasn't at home? Oho, you do, do you? Well, 
 now, Becky, do you remember any particular 
 occasion that she came when Mrs. Nevius was 
 
 13 
 
194 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 not at home? Lots of them? Why, what 
 could she do there in Mrs. Nevius' absence? 
 Be kissed by Mr. Nevius! Do you mean to say 
 that you saw Mr. Nevius kissing her? What, 
 you have seen them in each other's arms ! You 
 saw them ? you positively swear that you saw 
 them ? Yery good, Becky, very good. Now, 
 what else did they do? Ate and drank, did 
 they ? Well, while they were eating and drink- 
 ing what did they talk about? You don't know? 
 Don*t you remember ? Oh, you didn't under^ 
 stand, eh? And why not? Did they talk in 
 whispers so that you couldn't hear? Oho! 
 They talked in Spanish, did they? Or in 
 Italian! Any way they talked in some lingo you 
 didn't understand. Now, then, Becky, when 
 Mis. Nevius was at home, you have heard Mr. 
 Nevius talking to her, haven't you? Well tell 
 us then what language he talked to her in ? In 
 English did he ? No Italian f olderols to his 
 
MADAM SAPPHTEA. 195 
 
 wife, eh? Only to Miss Aclulam, eli? Tery 
 good, Becky, yery good indeed. Xow, wlien 
 Mrs. Xeyins yas at home where did she sit at 
 table? At the head of it, eh? Xnd where did 
 Mr. Xeyiiis sit? At the foot, did he? Well, 
 when this carousing was going on, where did 
 Miss Adulam sit ? At the head of the table, too ? 
 Took the wife's place, eh? And where did Mr. 
 Neyins sit? Eight beside her! TVhj, I thought 
 you said he sat at the foot of the table! Oho! 
 he only sat at the foot of the table when his 
 wife was there! I see. But when Miss 
 Adulam came he moyed his seat, eh? Sat 
 close to her, I suppose. Well, how close? 
 Close enough, you say. And while they were 
 sitting as close as they could get, they talked 
 in a language you couldn't understand, did 
 they? Xow, when you had finished clearing 
 up in the dining-room where did you go? 
 Down stairs, eh ? And when did you come up 
 
196 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 again? Two or three hours later, eh? Now, 
 what had Miss Adulam and Mr. Nevius been 
 doing in the meantime ? You don't know, you 
 say, but when, at the end of two or three hours, 
 you came up stairs again, you found them in 
 each other's arms. Is that what I am to 
 understand ? Yery good. Now when did this 
 occur ? On the 10th of November, eh ? And 
 was anything of the kind repeated? On the 
 11th, eh? And on the 12th, and on the 14th? 
 Did you tell any one of these goings on ? Oh, 
 you told Mrs. Nevius! What did she do? She 
 accused her husband, did she? And what did 
 he do? He confessed, eh? Confessed what? 
 Confessed that he had been untrue, eh ? Then 
 tvhat? Mr. Nevius went abroad did he? 
 And what did Mrs. Nevius do? Packed up 
 and left Mr. Nevius' house, eh ? Has she seen 
 Mr. Nevius since? Hasn't, eh? Very good, 
 Becky; that will do for to-day." 
 
MADAM SAPPHHiA. 197 
 
 And with an air of satisfaction that would 
 have been unpardonable in Xapoleon at Ma- 
 rengo, Mr. Tootli caressed liis cliin witli one 
 hand and waved the other at O'DonnelL 
 
 " Brother 0"D, if you have any ques- 
 tions — 
 
 " I have,*^ 0"Donnell answered shortly. 
 " Hawes, look this way. AVhere are you lix- 
 ing now?" 
 
 "At Mr. Snaith"s." 
 
 "In what capacity?" 
 
 " Er — er — " The woman turned helplessly 
 about, and suddenly spat, Scanisfress.^'^ 
 
 " Mr. Eeferee,*" said 0"Donnell, " I beg you 
 to remind Mrs. Xevius that she is not permit- 
 ted to prompt the witness. Hawes," he con- 
 tinued, " look at me. How do you remember 
 the dates you haA'e giyen?" 
 
 The witness made no answer. 
 
 " Come, out with it." 
 
198 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 " I — I — I wrote them down each time Miss 
 Adulam came." 
 
 ''With what object?" 
 "Mrs. Snaith told me to." 
 "When did she tell you?" 
 " I don't remember." 
 
 " Then you have got to remember. Did Mrs. 
 Snaith tell you to keep a memorandum before 
 Miss Adulam began to come to the house or 
 afterward ?" 
 
 "Afterward, sir." 
 
 "Do you swear to that?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I thought you said you wrote the dates 
 down each time Miss Adulam came." 
 
 " So I did, sir." 
 
 "Why did you?" 
 
 " Because Mrs. Snaith told me." 
 
 "A moment ago you said that Mrs. Snaith 
 did not tell you to do so until afterward. Now, 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 199 
 
 look at me, which is it? Did she tell you be- 
 fore or after ?" 
 " Before." 
 
 "Do you swear to that?" 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Do you know what the penalty for perjury 
 is?" 
 
 " I object," threw in Mr. Tooth airily. 
 
 O'Donnell turned to Metuchen: "Here's a 
 witness, your Honor, who swears to two con- 
 tradictory statements, and as they are material 
 to—" 
 
 'They are not material," retorted Mr. 
 Tooth. "Mrs. Snaith has nothing to do with 
 this suit. I have shown that Miss Adulam 
 called on the defendant in the plaintiff's ab- 
 sence. I have also shown what occurred. 
 When Mrs. Snaith learned the facts is irrele- 
 vant — " 
 
 "But not obscure," answered O'Donnell; 
 
200 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 " Mr. stenographer, vv^hen does witness swear 
 Mrs. Snaitli instructed ber to take notes. Be- 
 fore Miss Adulam called? Thank you." 
 
 "Now, Hawes," he continued. "Besides 
 keeping a memorandum for Mrs. Snaith, to 
 whom did you mention these incidents?" 
 
 " To Mrs. Nevius, sir." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " When she returned home, sir." 
 "When was that?" 
 "A few days later." 
 
 "That must have been about the 16th or 
 17th of November, wasn't it?" 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "When did Mr. Nevius go abroad?" 
 "Some time in December." 
 "Were you present when Mrs. Nevius ac- 
 cused her husband of being untrue?" 
 "No, but—" 
 
 " I want no buts. Answer yes or no. Did 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 201 
 
 you hear liim admit the accusation?" 
 " Well —he— " 
 
 " xlnswer my question. Did you or did not 
 you?" 
 
 "No, sir, I didn't, I—" 
 
 " That's enough. Of what was the parlor 
 floor composed?" 
 
 " 0£ the dining-room, parlor and butler's 
 pantry." 
 
 " On the first occasion when Miss Adulam 
 called do you know of her being in any other 
 part of the house than on the parlor floor?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 Can you on any of the subsequent occa- 
 sions swear that she was in any other part of 
 the house?" 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Very good, Becky, that will do for this 
 afternoon." 
 
 Mr. O'Donnell turned to his client, and with 
 
202 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 the air of one commenting on the weather re- 
 marked audibly yet indifferently: " Chops 
 and tomato sauce!" 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 203 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Day in, day out, the testimony continued. 
 Tlie cook testified. The waitress recalled, tes- 
 tified anew. The cook testified again, and a 
 t'hird time the waitress took the stand. By 
 common consent objections ceased. Questions 
 inane, idiotic, indecent, passed unchallenged, 
 unrebuked. 
 
 Neyius ceased to attend. The coarseness 
 was disgusting enough, but apart from that 
 the presence of one who continued to come per- 
 plexed and tormented him. To those who 
 have agreed to be bound by form, no law ever 
 codified is rigider, and but for its shackles, at 
 the first hearing he would have called to her, 
 "Hilda, this is unworthy of you; let us go." 
 But no remonstrance being possible, it was 
 
204 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 easier to avoid that chamber where she list- 
 ened exultingly to each fresh batch of scurrili- 
 ties concerning himself. 
 
 For the exultation was there, one not dissim- 
 ilar to that which that vestal must have dis- 
 played when her lover the gladiator fell and 
 her delicate thumb reversed. It was this that 
 unnerved him. He had fathomed the cause, 
 but the effect he was unable to endure. But 
 soon the exultation, the scurrilities must end, 
 and then in what gentle ways would he woo 
 her back to sanity and herself. 
 
 O'Donnell was not so sanguine. " They 
 have got something," he would insist, *' or else 
 Tooth is milking his client. He consumes 
 hours over nothing. Yesterday we learned 
 what you preferred for breakfast. The fact 
 that you drank moselle for dinner was shown 
 to the satisfaction of every one, the stenogra- 
 pher included. Metuchen went into the other 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 205 
 
 room; I read a paper. No one listened except 
 the plaintiff, and, by the ^-ay, did you tell me 
 that she was pretty? Why, she is hideous; 
 never in all my life hare I seen a woman with 
 an expression as malignant as hers." 
 
 Souvent femme varie,'' Nevius inconse- 
 quently replied. 
 
 "You are well rid of her. And the way she 
 bullies Tooth! Were she a client of mine — 
 however, that's not the point. Tooth must 
 have something else. Thus far the testimony 
 of the servants has the value of a zero from 
 which the periphery has been eliminated. 
 But even otherwise the testimony of detectives 
 is valueless unless corroborated. Tooth knows 
 that, and he knows, too, that I can show the 
 servants to have been in the pay of Mrs. 
 Snaith. Now who is to corroborate them, for, 
 mark my words, some corroboration there will 
 be. Tooth is waiting for something, he is 
 
206 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 consuming time with no other object. Now 
 what is it?" 
 
 " There is nothing. You have heard all you 
 will ever hear." 
 
 But O'Donnell was skeptical as a rag-picker, 
 and with cause. When he next appeared in 
 Tenth street the I-told-you-so was in his eye. 
 
 "We are sailing very close to the wind," he 
 announced. " What do you suppose happened 
 to-day?" 
 
 Nevius was not good at conundrums and 
 said so. 
 
 *' Your friend Miss Vtihrer appeared," the 
 lawyer, with a great assumption of indifference, 
 remarked, and then stopped to enjoy his 
 client's surprise. 
 
 " Did she? " that client answered, but with 
 an apathy that was stagnant. "I had for- 
 gotten that she lived." 
 
 *' I had not, then. Though I admit I was 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 207 
 
 not prepared for what occurred. Yesterday 
 Tooth began with the waitress about her, 
 showed that you were closeted with her for 
 hours and exhibited a hair-pin which was 
 found on that sofa where you are sitting now. 
 I had so little difficulty in putting that hair-pin 
 straight back into Mrs. N-eyius' hair that even 
 Metuchen laughed." 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, that was merely the prelude. This 
 morning she appeared, as Jones would say, iii 
 improprid j)ersonci. No, Nevius, she is worse 
 than Becky, though, after all, she must get 
 higher pay. With her was counsel, if you 
 please, retained, of course, by Tooth. Pennell 
 his name is, B. F. Pennell. When I saw him 
 I knew that the surprise was at hand. He is 
 a bad egg, but rottener than I had believed. 
 Do you know, the plaintiff is very clever. It 
 was she, I will take my oath, who put Tooth up 
 to it." 
 
208 MADAM SAPPHIRA 
 
 The apathy which Nevius had displayed was 
 departing, he came nearer to O'Donnell and 
 stood, looking at him, impatient of details and 
 phrases. Was the diagnosis wrong, after all? 
 Was there another explanation of this mystery ? 
 Only the day before he had asked himself that 
 question. And now what was the cleverness 
 over which O'Donnell seemed inclined to 
 harp?" 
 
 " Tooth is fly enough," the lawyer was say- 
 ing," but unaided he would never have thought 
 of this. Pennell got the young woman on the 
 stand, and in no time at all had her white as 
 snow. He had her take off her bonnet and show 
 that in those blonde curls of hers there was not 
 a hair-pin to be found, he had her explain at 
 some length that while her relations with you 
 had been most friendly and pleasant, they had 
 been also entirely innocent and that you had 
 invariably treated her like what she called " a 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 209 
 
 perfect gentleman." Then he turned her over 
 to Tooth." 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Tooth began very greasily; he asked her a 
 few gentle little questions which gave her an 
 opportunity to repeat all she had said, and 
 finally brought out that a few months ago you 
 had met her in the street and had assured her 
 you were doing everything to serve her inter- 
 ests. Very nice as far it goes, isn't it? Wait 
 a bit. ' And what did you say to Mr. Nevius ?' 
 Tooth asked. 'I asked Mr. Nevius,' the little 
 beast answered, ' whether the other young lady 
 was as innocent as I Avas ?' ' And what was 
 Mr. Nevius' reply ?' Tooth inquired. ' Mr. 
 Nevius' reply was that unfortunately she was 
 not. " 
 
 "That she was not?-' gnashed Nevma 
 
 "That is what she swore.'*' 
 
 " Then to the Tombs ohe go(^s/* 
 14 
 
210 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 "There, it's only your word against hers. 
 You can do nothing." 
 
 " But something must be done." 
 
 " Precisely, and for that purpose I have got 
 an adjournment. Now where is Miss Adulam? 
 She must appear. There is no use in her 
 standing on her dignity any longer. "Where is 
 • she?" 
 
 "In Boston," Nevius answered. "And she 
 is ill." 
 
 " Though she come on a shutter, come she 
 must. Write her the facts, tell her the moment 
 she arrives to communicate with me, but write 
 to her at once." With that the lawyer left. 
 
 For an hour Nevius sat, uncertain how to 
 act. He tried to write and did, page after 
 page, but the point he was unable to reach. No 
 matter what circumlocutions he attempted, no 
 matter how delicate the shadings, the fact 
 stood out, bald and repugnant, that the accusa- 
 
MADAM SAPPEIRA. 211 
 
 tion must stand unless rebutted by herself. And 
 there had been his pride, could pride there be 
 where only shamelessness was, that this young 
 gentlewomen had answered the accusation in the 
 only manner which it deserved, by making no 
 answer at all. How was he to tell her to unseal 
 her unsullied lips? Though he used argu- 
 ments that might lure a saint from Paradise, 
 the abomination would still be there, he was 
 asking her to be cross-questioned in regard to 
 her honor by a man such as his wife had 
 employed. No, he could not. Better a thou- 
 sand times the divorce than that ineffaceable 
 indignity to her. Something else there must 
 be. But what? As a child who plays a game, 
 he felt that something burning yet still with- 
 held. And suddenly it was his. 
 
 The letter which he presently wrote was not, 
 however, for Miss Adulam, it was addressed to 
 her uncle, Erastus Wilberforce. And as it lay 
 
212 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 signed and sealed before him, he covered his 
 face with his handj. When he stood up, an 
 illusion had unmasked, he had looked in his 
 heart, it was empty. 
 
 The morrow was blank. Another day went 
 by, during which he wandered through that 
 dismal house from which even a ghost had fled. 
 At noon, on the third day, a wire came: 
 
 Victory! Will be with you at nine. 
 
 "J. O'DONNELL." 
 
 The message left him strangely unmoved, 
 though one may wonder whether spring is 
 sweeter than summer to a flower once dead. 
 Punctual as a comet, the lawyer appeared. 
 " Look at that ! " he exclaimed. *' You told me 
 that Miss Adulam was a thoroughbred, but you 
 didn't tell me she was another Lady Flora 
 Hastings too." 
 
 At the paper he extended Nevius glanced 
 and shuddered. It was a certificate, attested 
 
MADA^f SAPPHIRA. 213 
 
 by two physicians that Miss J anet Aclulam was 
 virgo iniacia. 
 
 " Why, Nevius, it is the Hastings affair over 
 again. It will turn Tooth inside out. Out- 
 witted, foiled, cornered, undone is that unholy 
 shyster. Farewell to the Xevius divorce! 
 And I may tell you Metuchen will be tickled 
 to death. So far as he could he intimated he 
 was with us every trip. I think I will take a 
 drink. But what the devil are you lookino^ so 
 glum for? Xevius, listen to me, it was your 
 duty to deny everything, but till I got that 
 certificate, I'll be shot if — 
 
 Nevius checked him as with a bit, What 
 will Tooth do?" he asked, and so seriously 
 that O'DonnelPs jubilance evaporated. '"What 
 will he do when you produce this thing?" 
 
 " Increase the charges on his bill. I suppose. 
 What is there for him to do except to return 
 to his Tombs practice?" 
 
214 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 " Do you know," added Nevius absently, "I 
 would prefer it not to go on record." 
 
 " Are you mad ? " O'Donnell snarled. "This 
 is the case. We have won it without calling a 
 witness. Could I have foreseen it, do you 
 suppose I would have bothered over those 
 wenches your wife employed? " 
 
 Nevius shook his head, his eyes strange and 
 weary. 
 
 " No, and could I have foreseen that my 
 wife — O'Donnell, the point is here. If you 
 show this privately to Tooth he will under- 
 stand that he has lost. And yet he likes to 
 win, does he not? 
 
 " Where is the attorney who don't? I 
 myself — 
 
 " Yes, I know. You have been very kind, 
 O'Donnell, but there is one thing more you 
 can do. Show this to Tooth, tell him to with- 
 draw the charge against Miss Adulam, to 
 
9 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 215 
 
 amend liis complaint, and if lie agrees, assure 
 him tliati will not further contest his efforts." 
 "I don't understand."' 
 
 " After this Ytihrer business, he is not above 
 a trick or two, is he? Tell him to invent a 
 co-respondent, the servants he can coach to 
 testify to what he wants, and — the divorce is 
 his. I am tired of it all. O'Donnell, do this 
 for me, won't you? " 
 
 Sweet to the profession is the smell of an 
 enemy's corpse, and just as that fragrance was 
 to be O'Donnell's why should he be taken afar? 
 He was not at all pleased and said so, but to 
 the loss of the odors for which he had hungered, 
 at last he became reconciled. A fortnight later 
 a report was handed up recommending that 
 divorce be granted to Hilda Xevius, plaintiff, 
 on the ground of her husband's illicit commerce 
 with a woman unknown, "Which report was 
 promptly and properly confirmed. 
 
216 MADAM SAPPHlSA. 
 
 A day or two and Nevius found his name 
 again in leaded type. Beneath, augmented with 
 new embroideries, was the old story retold. 
 There was the initial accusation of the grief- 
 stricken wife, his own admission of guilt and 
 headlong flight. Then his return, denying 
 everything but doing nothing to defend charges 
 which had just been substantiated in full. Ac- 
 cording to the reporter the evidence was of such 
 a character that it had to be heard in camera. 
 Kevins had not even had the courage to appear. 
 But every accusation had been proved, and now 
 his poor, wounded wife, who had borne with 
 his infidelities until forbearance had ceased to 
 be a virtue, at last was free. In dissolving the 
 miserable bands the court had granted her per- 
 mission to assume her maiden name, a permis. 
 sion of which she would at once avail herself. 
 She was the daughter of the wealthy banker.; 
 Thomas B. Snaith, and very prominent in so- 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 217 
 
 ciety, as were also the co-respondents, one of 
 whom was a dashing western widow, the other, 
 one of Saratoga's reigning belles. And so on 
 and so forth at the rate of eight dollars a 
 column and a tenner for the "beat." "The 
 Lord loveth a cheerful liar," Nevius reflected 
 as he put the Chronicle down. 
 
 But O'Donnell had not been deprived of 
 certain fragrances for nothing. He wrote a note, 
 the substance of which — that Miss Adulam had 
 been fully exonerated and her name withdrawn 
 — appeared on the morrow in the Chronicle^ s 
 obscurest corner and in the Chronicle' s smallest 
 type. 
 
218 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The paths to happiness are not many, but 
 they are well defined. The finger-posts of the 
 easiest are those which point to health and 
 indifference. 
 
 But there are others that have a value, and 
 between them the wayfarer has halted and will 
 halt and conjecture. One leads to religion, 
 and the pilgrim, if he be sorely depressed and 
 temperamentally, disposed will find it an 
 excellent route. It may be tortuous, the goal 
 may be remote, there may be ghosts at the 
 crossings, but at least the traveller has that 
 greatest of consolations — the belief that he is 
 still a child, watched over and protected. 
 
 Another leads to that pure realm of ideas 
 where individual preoccupations may not enter, 
 
MADAII SAPPHIEA. 219 
 
 where only the mysteries of beauty and of life 
 enditre. 
 
 But this route, rarely chosen, is adapted but 
 to the student to whom solitude can o3er the 
 dual advantage of being with himself and of 
 not being with others. 
 
 Xevius selected it. Health had ceased to 
 interest him. temperamentally he was too 
 nervous to acquire and preserve that suspen- 
 sion of judgment of which indiS'erence is the 
 fruit; and mentally he was too agile to accept 
 dogmas unquestioned. He indeed tried to 
 fatigue the mind in the fatigue of the body, but 
 when, after hours of that sponge for thought 
 which the saddle alone supplies, there was a 
 Cj_uestion-mark in waiting. The why and where- 
 fore of the divorce haunted him still. And as 
 law was no longer possible, and his career at 
 an end, he had a choice between drink and 
 study. In the former he tried to drown that 
 
220 ^ ADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 interrogation mark. But the interrogation 
 mark knew how to swim. Then he plunged 
 into history. 
 
 Between Caesar and Heliogabalus there was 
 a moment when the gods no longer were, when 
 Christ had not come, when man alone existed. 
 In disgust of modernity it was to that epoch 
 that he turned. The classics were at his elbow, 
 and in the splendors which they evoked he 
 reconstructed Eome, Presently the book- 
 sellers were at work and he had invoices of 
 curious lore. Before the roses could fade he 
 wreathed himself with them. He had advent- 
 ures in the Subura, escapades with dazzling 
 young empresses and re-lived the inimitable 
 life. To the hum of harps he floated on a 
 ship that had gardens, bowers, spangled sails 
 and a jewelled prow. On painted elephants he 
 quarried lions in their African fens. Throb- 
 bing through the rushes of the Nile there cam': 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 221 
 
 to him the grave music of archaic hymns. 
 Serapis whispered to him. Isis visited him 
 unveiled. He sailed the ^gean, scaled 
 Parnassus, lounged in the Academe. He 
 prayed in temples that never heard an 
 atheist's voice, passed initiate into the mys- 
 steries of Eleusis, encountered divinities and 
 monsters, curious superstitions and unten- 
 able creeds. He found grace and lust, deform- 
 ity and magnificence, usiimagined depravities, 
 torturesome delights. He wandered from 
 palace to lupanar, from prison to shrine, from 
 Porum to camp. There was not a sin nor an 
 altar that he passed unexamined, not a secret 
 that he left unprobed. 
 
 When antiquity was his, he rose from its 
 study perplexed. Nowhere had he encountered 
 hypocrisy. Therewith the Why returned. 
 
222 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 "Yes, I am off for Europe. For centuries 
 I have been travelling on the map, now I am to 
 try another tack. Come with me, Carol. You 
 don't know what a charming companion I am. 
 No one does. I never open my head.'' 
 
 Jones, a leg over the arm of a chair, a cigar- 
 ette in his fingers, a smile of protracted ami- 
 ability fluttering in and out his tawny beard, 
 was discounting the pleasures of a trip abroad. 
 
 " In the autumn we could visit that city from 
 which you have just returned. Mention Egypt 
 and /ou see a priest, Persia, and you see a 
 king, Greece — a goddess, but Eome was Might 
 Triumphant. And to think that I have never 
 been there — in this existence I mean, for I can 
 swear I have jolted in chariots over those wide 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 223 
 
 white roads. I can swear that I have supped 
 with Lalage and thrown dice with Faustine. 
 When I read history, memories return l-n floods. 
 Let us go together and see what remains of the 
 temples in which we have lived." 
 
 He puffed at his cigarette. " And such good 
 as it would do you. A change of scene and 
 you w^ould begin to forget. You need to for- 
 get. This accursed divorce is assuming the 
 proportions of a pyramid. It is over a year 
 since it ended, and still you brood. You will 
 kill yourself as Tredegar has if you sit moping 
 in this horror of a house. Not but what I ap- 
 preciate the advantage of sorrow. Che non 
 soffre, non vince, — non Leonardo da Vinci The 
 tragedy of my life is that there has been no 
 tragedy at all. If I have not written a great 
 novel, there is the cause. An artist's one value 
 consists in his sorrows. They are all aspira- 
 tions. The world is filled with people whose 
 
224 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 lives are so puerile, whose aims are so narrow 
 that we should bless the misfortune which 
 makes us nobler than they. Why, grief is a 
 pleasure, it is a joy to weep. But — " 
 
 "/Si je doute des larmes!'^'' Nevius incon- 
 sequently objected. " C^est que je Vai vu 
 pleurer^ 
 
 "Ah, we have been reading de Musset havo 
 we? Fort hien, Monseigneur, fort bien, mats 
 6coide : 
 
 "N' es-tu pas jeune, heureux, partout le bien venu, 
 Et ces plaisirs lt3gers qui font aimer la vie, 
 Si tu n' avais pleurd, quel cas en ferais-tu? 
 Lorsqu'au d^^clin du jour, assis sur la bruyfere — 
 La bruy^re c' est ton f auteuil— 
 
 Avec un vieil ami — le vieil ami, c'est moi — tu bois' en 
 liberty — • 
 
 Oh, pour ca! Comme un Polonais m^me — ■ 
 Dis moi, d' aussi bon coeur l^veras-tu ton verre 
 Si tu n' avais senti le prix de la gaiety? 
 Aimerais-tu les fleurs, les pr^s et la verdure 
 Les sonnets de P^trarque et le chant des oiseaux, 
 Michel-Ange et les arts, Shakespeare et la nature 
 Si tu n' y retrouvais quelques anciens sanglots? 
 
Madam SArPHiiJA. 
 
 226 
 
 Comprendrais-tu des cieux 1' ineffable harmonies 
 
 Le silence des nuits, le murmure des flots 
 
 Si quelque part, labas, la fi6vre et 1' insomnie 
 
 Ne t' avait fait songer a 1' ^ternel repos? 
 
 Plains la done, plains la done, cette belle infid^le — " 
 
 "Yes, Imd slie been that," Nevius inter- 
 rupted, moved in spite of himself by the 
 beauty of lines which he, too, knew by heart. 
 " Had she been tnfidSle, I could see my way 
 clearer. But though a year has gone by since 
 she got the decree, still I am unable to under- 
 stand why she asked for it. There was a 
 moment when I thought her insane, when I 
 thought, God forgive me, that this affair at an 
 end I could win her back, reason with her, 
 plead with her, love her again. But there was 
 no insanity in her eyes when we met in court, 
 a malignant exultation merely. And why? 
 That Why is the first thing I find in the morn- 
 ing, the last that leaves me at night. For a 
 year I have been haunted by interrogation 
 
226 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 marKS, they are everywhere, they are in the 
 food I eat. I close my eyes and still I see 
 them. Even in sleep they pursue me, they fill 
 my dreams." 
 
 "It is o£ course supposable," Jones, with 
 singular acquiescence, replied, "that in asking 
 for a divorce this lady had a motive. The ma- 
 lignity was due to your effort to thwart her. 
 The exultation came of the prospect of showing 
 that her lies were true." 
 
 " But Avhy drag herself through all that 
 mud ? I am a gentleman at least, am I not ? If 
 she wanted a divorce why in God's name 
 didn't she tell me before I went to Paris. I 
 am not a bit better than another, I have had 
 my little hearts as well as anyone else, and 1 
 could have got it for her, without scandal, 
 without disgrace, without the ruin of three 
 lives— Well, Patrick, what is it?" 
 
 From the tray which the man held he took a 
 pink card, gilt-edged. 
 
MADAM SAI>PHIBA. 22? 
 **A lady, sir." 
 
 Jones laughed loud and long. " En avard les 
 amourettes. Va donc^ farceur.''^ 
 
 " Blythe Sisseton," Nevius repeated. " Never 
 heard of her. Patrick, ask her what she wants." 
 
 "That's Ablaut's Ex," said Jones, as Pat- 
 rick turned, but he bit his tongue as he did so. 
 
 "Ablaut's Ex?" 
 
 " Oh, a little chorus girl whom he invited to 
 dance the waltz in Faust. Man proposes you 
 know, and chorus girls accept. But in accept- 
 ing she meant Forever and he meant To-night. " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " That's all. What do you expect? A three- 
 volume novel? He wrote Finis on a cheque 
 ages ago. In the circumstances it would be 
 foolish of you to see her." 
 
 "Foolish of me? What in thunder do you 
 mean ? What have I got to do with her ? Why 
 should it be foolish of me to see her ? But what 
 are you staring at me for?" 
 
228 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 "I'm not staring at you;" Jones snapped 
 back. " I am merely giving you a little friend- 
 ly advice. The girl is probably here out of 
 curiosity, to have a look at the defendant in a 
 cause cSlebre. If you are going to make a 
 freak of yourself, run right down and show your- 
 self off. But in your place I would send word 
 that I was out, that I was dead. Now here's 
 Patrick—" 
 
 " She says she won't detain you but a mo- 
 ment, sir, she — " 
 
 Nevius stood up and made for the door. Be- 
 fore he could reach it Jones had him by the 
 arm. 
 
 Carol, let me go." 
 Without a word Nevius shook him off and 
 left the room. But what was the meaning of 
 that strange look he had? 
 
 'Does he suspect?" The novelist queried. 
 " But when he knows T' He j^aused and looked 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 229 
 
 about. * 'Anything would be better than to see 
 the newspapers dripping again with his name. 
 I must suggest something, but what?" 
 
 Ten minutes later the front door closed. 
 When Neyius re-entered the library Jones was 
 reading Spinoza. 
 
 ''You knew this!" Nevius blurted. The 
 strange look had gone from his face, but a 
 stranger one had come. He was livid, and the 
 corners of his mouth had widened. " Why 
 have I been gulled on every side? Why could 
 you not tell me? " 
 
 " Dear boy, what omniscience is it that you 
 attribute to me ? " And Jones tossed aside 
 the book he held and smiled. " The announce- 
 ment of your lady's engagement to Ablaut, if 
 it is that to which you refer, was news to me 
 until I read it in the Herald this morning." 
 
 " Bah ! Why didn't you tell me she was his 
 mistress? Why couldn't you have told me? 
 
230 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 I committed suicide because of that woman. 
 And look at these letters! " 
 
 But Jones had no need to look at those blue, 
 iris-scented communications, each stamped 
 with the Nevius crest, to divine what they con- 
 tained. 
 
 " Look at them," Nevius repeated. " Months 
 before she began that suit, she was writing to 
 him things like these." 
 
 "With a wrench he tore his collar apart. 
 
 "Why couldn't you have told me," he 
 gasped, "why — why?" 
 
 *'How could I, dear boy, I didn't know," the 
 novelist with splendid mendacity replied. 
 " But supposing, even that suspecting such a 
 thing, I had so much as hinted at it, you would 
 have held me up. ' Your evidence or your 
 life,' you would have bawled. And I am not 
 like you, Carol, alone in the world. I have 
 my publishers to support. But now that the 
 
imADAM sapphiea. 231 
 
 cat is out of the bag, the one thing for you to 
 do is to say ScJiicamm darilher and pray that 
 Ablaut may make an honest woman of her. 
 Do sit down now and be quiet. Write to him, 
 why don't you ? Paper is a splendid conductor 
 for steam. Send him your congratulations. 
 Say that you have just learned of the engage- 
 ment, and that if the fair betrothed makes him 
 half as happy as she has made you, he is the 
 man of all others to be envied." 
 
 " Yes," Jones continued with a twist to his 
 beard, but an eye on his host. " A little 
 eighteenth-century j3o7zYesse of that kind is far 
 bettei' than big words and short phrases. Any- 
 thing, Carol, anything but a row. I don't 
 wonder though that you look as if a scrap 
 would be a revel. Diygrce is like matrimony, 
 dear boy, a fellow has got to go through it 
 three or four times before he knows how. By 
 the time this lady gets done, what an expert 
 
232 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 she will be! It is true she is exceptionally 
 gifted, facile princijjessa, as one might say, 
 '')ut — now give that to me, I am ashamed of 
 yon." 
 
 "It i« not loaded," Nevius muttered from 
 between his teeth. 
 
 " Even if it is not, it is capable of becoming 
 so I suppose. Were Ablaut in this room and 
 you shot him you would be acquitted — pro- 
 vided these letters were read. But would you 
 permit them to go before a jury ? I wouldn't 
 let the villain in a novel defend himself at the 
 expense of a woman's honor, and you, Carol, 
 are a gentleman in flesh and blood. You 
 remember that episode at Nice. There the 
 lady showed even less foresight. The husband 
 surprised the lover in her arms, but when he 
 shot, civilization revolted at the medisevalism 
 of the act. Legally he was justified, but law 
 and good breeding are not the same." 
 
MADAM C.i.PPHIEA. 
 
 233 
 
 Jones gave another twist to liis beard and 
 the douche of words continued. 
 
 " No, dear boy, you can't shoot Ablaut. On 
 the contrary, you should be very nice to him. 
 He is in trouble. He has been led astray, 
 and these are the wages of sin. From the an- 
 nouncement of the engagement I suppose he 
 considers that this lady is in honor bound to 
 make reparation, and while I can understand 
 that, I can not understand what induced him 
 to commit the error w^hich makes the repara- 
 tion needful. No, he deserves your sympathy. 
 A more venomous, soulless little cafin than 
 she who is to lead him to the halter — altar, 
 I mean — doesn't exist, and never has, outside 
 the walls of St. Lazare." 
 
 "H'm— " 
 
 Nevius muttered something, but whether in 
 agreement or rebuke, Jones did not care. He 
 drawled on uninterruptedly in the leisurely 
 fashion in which he had begun: 
 
234 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 " This morning, when I read the announce- 
 ment, it took me a moment before I understood 
 why she waited as long as she has. Knowing 
 her, as several of u-s do, it was quite on the 
 cards that she should bring Ablaut to book the 
 day the decree was signed. But remember on 
 what grounds it was granted. The woman in 
 the amended complaint existed only in Tooth's 
 imagination, and existed there only at your 
 suggestion. It was the Frick case upside 
 down. Tandems and tally-ho's could have 
 been driven straight through it — which was 
 the reason, I fancy, when the newspapers 
 were jubilating over your defeat that you held . 
 your tongue. And, by the way, do you know 
 who it was that inspired that jubilee? This 
 lady, dear boy, no one else. She had the ar- 
 ticles written to order, and she had marked 
 copies sent to every one she knew. Actually 
 she sent one to me. She did not think it 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 235 
 
 worth while, though, to send O'Donnell's 
 contradiction. Ah, mais nonP^ And Jones 
 drew breath. 
 
 "But to return to the point, had she led 
 Ablaut to the altar as precipitately as she led 
 you to court, you, had you chosen, could 
 have vitiated her decree, vitiated her mar- 
 riage, and very neatly turned the tables by 
 applying for a divorce from her. All that 
 you could have done, dear boy, more too, had 
 she been stupid enough to let you. But she 
 wasn't. The dear little thing knew a trick 
 worth two of that. You had one year in which 
 to appeal, yesterday the year expired; to-day 
 the engagement is announced. And you can 
 do nothing. Not a thing, dear boy. You 
 can't even shoot her; no, not any more than 
 you can shoot Ablaut. Put any such idea as 
 that out of your head. She has been malig- 
 nant as syphilis, I admit; she has disgraced, 
 
286 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 corroded and destroyed; her conduct has been 
 without parallel, without excuse ; that she 
 should be lapidated I admit also; I have noth- 
 ing but contempt for her; she has unsexed her- 
 self, and if you struck her in the face with 
 your glove, you would pay her an honor she 
 does not deserve. But you can't shoot her. 
 To defend any such act these letters would 
 have to be read. And though you may say 
 now that they could be read, and not only that 
 but all the secrets of this divorce be ventilated, 
 yet when the time came you would permit 
 nothing of the sort, and you would be electro- 
 cuted, dear boy, because of this fallatrix for 
 whose sake a skunk is too good to dje." 
 
 The novelist paused and contemplated his 
 finger-tips. Presently, with a glance that noted 
 the effects of the douche, he began anew: 
 
 " No, you are too young, life holds too many 
 possibilities yet, for you to jeopardize it for 
 
MADAM SAPPHlEA. 237 
 
 her or for her maquereau either. Could you kill 
 her, as I have killed many a culprit in my 
 novels, without a suspicion resting on the 
 executioner, I am rather inclined to think I 
 would approve. But the difficulty is that she 
 is not under your roof and not being a cracks- 
 man you can't get mider her's. Were she 
 here in Tenth street, a bit of catgut tied across 
 the head of the stairs, a slight shove, and there 
 you are. The catgut vanishes and another 
 accident in high life is recorded. Failing that, 
 you could try a folding-bed; many a person has 
 been smothered in them, ^^ou could imitate 
 Incoul and turn on the gas when she was 
 asleep, you could give her a vibrio in a mush- 
 room, or squeeze a taste of cyanide of potassium 
 into her champagne. Any one of these things, 
 or of a hundred others, you could do if she 
 were here, but luck is hers and she isn't. 
 " Now, in vievr of all the circumstances, were 
 
23§ MADAM SAPPHIBA. 
 
 this one of my novels, I would have the injured 
 hero experiment in what will be one of the fine 
 arts of the next century — Execution at a Dis- 
 tance. There are bungler-s who send explosives 
 by express, which is well enough in its way when 
 ^ it happens to be successful, but even then the 
 intention is manifest and the police are run- 
 ning right and left. The art of Execution at 
 a Distance, as practiced by the adept, will con- 
 sist in projecting an agent in such a manner 
 that it kills and leaves no trace either of its 
 purpose or of its advent. 
 
 " For instance — by ^he v?.y, I fninK / will 
 take a little o£ that whisky — for instance, a 
 young man is enamoured of a young woman. 
 Difficulties ensue. Correspondence there must 
 be, but how? By invisible ink, let us say, which 
 becomes visible when breathed upon. For a 
 year and a day the young man writes to his 
 Dulcinea with ink of this description. Suddenly 
 
MADAM SAPPHIBA. 239 
 
 she wearies or lie does. What does he do, give 
 her aconite pills ? He gives a sheet of paper a 
 bath of hydrocyanic, a coating of starch to pro- 
 tect it and drops it in a letter box. When the 
 young woman receives it, she breathes on it to 
 decipher what he has written, and falls dead, 
 a piece of white paper in her hands. Coroner's 
 verdict: heart disease. 
 
 " On the other hand, supposing he has had 
 no time or no need to train her to the advan- 
 tages of invisible ink. As a love-token he sends 
 her a box of flowers saturated with a similar 
 preparation. She opens the box, the hydro- 
 cyanic escapes and she is dead. Verdict: heart 
 failure." 
 
 The novelist emptied his glass and looked at 
 Nevius. But the latter had got his face in the 
 shadow, a hand before it as well. 
 
 "All that," Jones added thoughtfully, "all 
 that is for the Year of our Lord 2001. Nowa- 
 
240 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 days people have such prejudices, and yet if 
 stupidity hurt how many would yell !" 
 
 For a while neither spoke, and to amuse 
 himself perhaps, Jones took a sheet of paper 
 and began to scribble. Presently he looked 
 
 " But what a rattling good story the whole 
 thing would make. And what a lot I could do 
 with you. I could begin with you from the 
 cradle, carry you right through everything, put 
 your hat on and kill you. Suicide is always a 
 good climax. And I could call it — let me see, 
 I should have to find something comprehensive, 
 a title both neat and terse, one that would con- 
 vey an entire existence." 
 
 His eyes roamed to the ceiling, consulted the 
 pencil, fell again on the paper on which he had 
 written, and lighted sagaciously. 
 
 " I have it — From Womb to Tomb. Carol, 
 dear boy, what do you say to that? " 
 
 As Nevius seemingly had nothing to say, 
 
ilADAAI SAPPHIEA, 241 
 
 Joues nodded complacentlr to himself and rose 
 from his seat. 
 
 T have accomplished mv object, heau 
 fenehreucc. I have bored von so that 3'our 
 auger is gone. Thank me now and let me go 
 also, but remember I sail on Saturday and you 
 must sail, too.'' 
 
 For a while longer yevius sat. a hand be- 
 fore his face. But behind that hand were 
 passing the incidents of the day: the coming 
 of that little girl the letters which she had 
 fotmd in her lover's rooms, letters with vrhich 
 she had threatened the lover tmtil threats were 
 idle and his engagement was announced. And 
 these letters, brought to him with the intelli- 
 gence of that engagement, were written by one 
 who had pretended to love him. whom he had 
 defended, laudeel and worshipped, who called 
 herself Mrs. Xevius still and who had wrecked 
 three lives. Back to him crowded the memo- 
 
 16 
 
242 MADAM SAPPHIBA. 
 
 lies of the past. The scraps of the letter 
 found ill the basket. That was to Jenny, was 
 it ? How clever she had been that day. How 
 cleverly black had been turned to white. How 
 clever, too, had been her tactics in regard to 
 that poor girl. And with what neatness and 
 despatch had she not brought Yuhrer to the 
 house. Yes, she had been very clever, but the 
 cleverest thing of all was in declaring herself 
 broken-hearted. And this was the little Hilda 
 whom he thought would be so sorry when she 
 learned the truth. The truth indeed! It had 
 been for him to learn it. And now that he 
 had, — Madam Sapphira, be on your guard ! 
 
 He repeated the menace; the echo perhaps 
 aroused him. On the table were the letters, 
 and near them a bit of paper embroidered with 
 pencil-marks, the rough sketch of a tombstone, 
 on which in neat characters was writ : 
 
madam saithika. 243 
 
 Here Lies Hilda Sxaith, 
 And That is All She Eyee Did. 
 Eequies cat in pace. 
 
 At this effort of the novelist's he barely 
 glanced; his eyes vrere fumbling the shelves. 
 There ^'as a book on chemistry that he wanted, 
 and having got it he opened it, questioned 
 it, and sittinsf down ao;ain interrogated the 
 future and roamed through the past. 
 
244 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIRA. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Why had gone. He was no longer 
 haunted, he knew. There are people to whom 
 doubt is better than certainty and Nevius was 
 one of them. The problem had occupied 
 him; that gone he had nothing left — a duty 
 merely — to which he presently tarned his 
 attention. 
 
 Of the iDcidents remote and dismissed 
 which had suddenly returned was one he 
 detained — the memory of a young girl exam- 
 ining her wedding gifts. Among these gifts 
 were two vinaigrettes, and he could see her 
 still, holding one, then the other to the mirror 
 to judge which was the more becoming. The 
 choice made, the rejected vinaigrette had been 
 returned to Tiffanv and some exchano^e effected. 
 
majjam sapphiea. 245 
 
 It was the one incident of tlie old pre- 
 nnptial days that had jarred, and it had partic- 
 nlarlT jarred in that the vinaigrette h had 
 been exchanged, was the gift to His bride of 
 one whose hand he had hekl and whose hsLd 
 he had loved to hold. Apart, then, fi'om any 
 sentiment which he might hare attached to the 
 tribute, the commercial aspect with which it 
 was regarded annoyed, and continued to annoy 
 until, other incidents interyening. it was 
 forgot. 
 
 But it had retrirned. and of an afternoon when 
 the heat was such that man and beast fell dead in 
 the streets he ventured out to shop. There was 
 a scent-bottle, covered with gems., one which 
 it would delight any woman to have and 
 display, which, without any difficulty, he 
 made his own. And there was also a phial 
 of anhydrous prussic acid — but that he diii 
 not obtain until he had produced a jumble of 
 Latin and hieroglyphics. 
 
246' 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 Later, in the quiet of the library, with 
 mouth and nostrils bandaged, his eyes pro- 
 tected, his hands well gloved, he poured the 
 contents of the phial into the jewelled toy, and 
 re-stoppering both bottles, removed the bandage 
 and breathed. It is not every neophite whose 
 initial effort in laboratory work is attended 
 with such success, and that fact he doubtless 
 appreciated, for having breathed, he smiled. 
 If all else failed, might he not turn chemist? 
 The idea must have amused him, for, as he put 
 the vinaigrette back in its case, the smile was 
 still there, and as he wrapped up the case and 
 directed it, he laughed. But then, chemistry 
 is one of the most delightful pursuits imagin- 
 able, and he had been so long unoccupied that 
 a possibility with even less perspective might 
 have charmed. 
 
 Yet where, apart from Ceylon, is that pros- 
 pect which always pleases ? An hour had not 
 
MADAM SAPPHIRA. 247 
 
 passed before the vistas disclosed must have 
 lost their allurement. The laughter, the smile 
 had gone. In their place came a look perplex- 
 ing and enervating, and through the quiet of 
 the house pulsated a throbbing so loud, so 
 loud, that to still it, perhaps, too, to rid his 
 mind of chemistry and its charms, he drank. 
 
 It was the drink, no doubt, which on the 
 morrow confined him to his room. But such 
 a sedative is rest that on the succeeding day he 
 was able to get to the floor below and breakfast 
 too. Melon is not unpalatable at any hour, 
 and when he had eaten a little he was quite in 
 the humor to smoke a cigarette and learn the 
 news of the day. It was the Times which he 
 selected for the purpose, and after reading of 
 the Homestead rebellion as he turned from the 
 fourth page where the editorials are to the fifth 
 where the advertisements such as death notices 
 appear, the paper fell from him, the name 
 
248 
 
 MADAM SAPPHIEA. 
 
 Nevius had jumped ont and stabbed him in the 
 eyes. 
 
 He got to the window, the court was deluged 
 with sunshine, and on the fence a piebald cat 
 was enjoying a promenade. 
 
 But could it be possible that that package 
 had been sent? Had he not hid it some- 
 where ? 
 
 With a sidelong suspicious glance the cat 
 continued its gingerly way. 
 
 Could it be possible? he repeated. But 
 what had he done with it? Why could he not 
 collect his thoughts ? He went up stairs, and 
 down once more, and up again. Patrick 
 appeared, he fled away. He could not go out, 
 he could not sit still, he could neither write nor 
 speak, BOY act nor think, and in his bed-room 
 where he hid at last, he locked the door. 
 
 If rest be a sedative, suspense is not. And 
 do what he might, suspense urged him from 
 
MADAM SAPPfllBA. 249 
 
 sofa to armchair, from armcliair to sofa, and 
 finally to the library, that he might see for 
 himself if the package were there. 
 
 On the table was a telegram. It was fi'om 
 Bronx he knew. Bnt not a bit. 
 
 " Toiiraine sails at noon to-morrow. Your 
 berth retained. Have wired congratulations to 
 Mrs. A. 
 
 '•'A. -B. Fexwick Chisholm-.Joxes."' 
 
 Congratulations to Mrs. A ! ^Vho was Mrs. 
 A? He put the telegram down and looked 
 about. There was no one to reply. But who 
 was Mis. A? TVhat had he to do with any 
 Mrs. A? 
 
 Again he looked about. But still there was 
 no one. Yet he must ask. he must speak, he 
 must know. The bell was there, he rang it 
 but could not wait and ran to the hall. 
 
 " Patrick," he called. Patrick.'' 
 
 "Yes, sir, coming, sir.'' 
 
250 MADAM SAPPHIKA. 
 
 Patrick," he cried, while the man was yet 
 below. " Patrick, what is there in the papers 
 to-day?" 
 
 " In the papers, sir ! " 
 
 " Tell me, can't you. Don't you see I am 
 going mad. What was in the papers ? Who 
 is Mrs. A?" 
 
 Perplexed, astounded, the man halted mid- 
 way on the stair. 
 
 " There's a Mrs. Nevius who has been and 
 married a gentleman whose name I disre- 
 member, sir, but — " 
 
 " Then why the devil couldn't you say so be- 
 fore. Come up here. Don't you hear me? 
 Come up I tell you. I am going to Europe 
 to-morrow and I want you to pack. And 
 Patrick—" 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " Here's a hundred or more that you may 
 find serviceable." And as Nevius turned on 
 
MADAM SAPPHIEA. 251 
 
 his lieel. gently ii incorrectly, lie repeated a 
 verset from tlie Scriptures. 
 
 ■'Beautiful on tlie liill-slope are tlie feet of 
 the bearer of glad news.'' 
 
 But what he meant by that absurdity who 
 shall say ? 
 
 Beaumaris^ August^ London, Octoher, 189^ 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS OF F, T. NFELY. 
 
 =publicdtions 
 
 F. T. NEEIsy 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 When A /Vldti's Single 
 
 A Tale of Literary Life. 
 
 By J. M. BARRIE. 
 
 Author of'''' The Little Minister " A Window in Thrums^'' Etc, 
 This popular writer needs no introduction. 
 
 Paper Cover— 320 Pages— 50 Cents. 
 
 F. T. NEELY, Publisher, 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS OF F. T. NEELY, 
 
 Hypnotism. 
 
 By JULES CLARETIE. 
 
 A Most Remarkable Book. 
 
 The spell which is cast sometimes by hypnotism is forcibly de- 
 scribed in an artistic manner by M. Jules Claretie, who is well known 
 as one of the masters in the French school of realism. He clearly reveals 
 the power of mind over matter. The present volume is the result 
 of his observations and reflections, and it forcibly deals with certain social 
 problems that modern life is giving rise to. M. Claretie is not only a clear, 
 but also a brilliant, writer, and his ready flow of language greatly aids him 
 in depicting a study and an interpretation of a problem of criminality 
 which is the direct outgrowth of hypnotism.— Bosfo?^ Herald^ Jan. 2, 1893. 
 
 The science of hypnotism is by no means exact yet, but its phenomena 
 are so well attested that they may eventually be reduced to a system. The 
 domination of strong minds over weak ones may be observed every day, and 
 hypnotism is the exercise of this power in the fullest measure. The subject 
 hypnotized loses the last vistage of individual will and becomes perfectly 
 obedient to the master mind. The terrible possibilities residing in such a 
 power, when possessed by unscrupulous persons, have occurred to many 
 investigators of hypnotism. This phase of the question has been made the 
 subject of a story by Jules Claretie, called "Hypnotism." A young girl is 
 hypnotized by her lover, and, obedient to his will, commits a theft which will 
 enrich him. She is arrested, but does not divulge the source of the sug- 
 gestion until she is thrown again into a hypnotized trance by a physician, 
 who suspects that she was an agent for another. By this means the insti- 
 gating criminal is discovered. The story is well told and well turned 
 into English.— Buffalo Courier, Nov. 20, 1892. 
 
 This novel is written in the style of the latest French sensational school. 
 Its main character, "Jean Mornas,'* a young doctor of a pessimistic turn of 
 mind, and greedy for riches, becomes almost insanely eager for the wealth 
 of his aged and invalid uncle. Too great a coward to commit a crime him- 
 self, he influences his sweetheart, "Lucie Lorin," while in the hypnotic state, 
 and she, innocent, acts as his agent. In robbing the old man, she is, how- 
 ever found out, compelled to kill him, and is discovered. By an expert 
 hypnoti.^t, the truth of the matter is ascertained, and the girl is proven 
 guiltless. "Mornas" flees from justice to Monaco, where he loses his ill-gotten 
 gains and commits suicide, thus tragically closing the whole story.^ 
 Nassau Literally Magazine. 
 
 Paper Coyer, Ikautifnlly Illustrated, 288 Pages, 50 Cents. 
 
 F. T. NEELY, Publisher^ 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS OF F. T. NEELY. 
 
 fladam Sapphira. 
 
 A STORT OF FIFTH AVENUE. 
 By EDGAR SALTUS. 
 
 AUTHOK OF 
 
 THE PACE THAT KILLS, 
 
 A TRANSACTION IN HEARTS, 
 
 THE TRUTH ABOUT TRISTREM VARICK, 
 MR. INCOUL'S MISADVENTURE, 
 A TRANSIENT GUEST, 
 
 MARY MAGDALEN, 
 EDEN 
 
 NOW IN PRESS — READY MARCH FIRST. 
 
 This is a Fifth Avenue story, and being the first from this famous 
 author for over two years, will attract much attention. 
 
 It promises to be the great sensation of the day. 
 
 Advance orders to date, over 5,000 copies. 
 
 In Fine Cloth, $1.25; Paper, 50 Cents. 
 
 F. T. NEELY, Publisher, 
 
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NEW PUBLICATIONS OF F. T. NEELY. 
 
 l2*Evang<?liste. 
 
 By ALPHONSE DAUDET, 
 
 ..... THIS AUTHOB's most FAMOUS BOOK. ..... 
 
 It is needless to say that the story is worked out with artistic consist- 
 ency to the end, without the least concession to the weak conventionalism 
 that craves " a good ending." The book is a tremendous, blood-stirring 
 philippic against certain phases of our modern civilization that have never 
 before experienced just this kind of passionless, yet searching and remorse- 
 less, surgery. — Chicago Times. 
 
 Daudet is one of the foremost French novelists of the day, and this 
 powerfully told story is of intense interest. — Boston Home Journal. 
 
 Mary Neal Sherwood has translated Alphonse Daudet's "L'Evangeliste," 
 and inasmuch as Daudet is the author it goes without saying that it is a 
 story most delicately and artistically told. It illustrates the evils of religious 
 fanaticism in an incisive and almost terrible manner, and a serious sermon 
 underlies the pathetic and sympathetic romance told by this master of 
 French fiction. — The Boston Times. 
 
 The works of Alphonse Daudet always bear the stamp of his masterful 
 style and graceful diction. In his w^ork " L'Evangeliste," he has presented 
 a terrible tragedy, but instead of being an illustration of vice and resulting 
 disintegration, it is a portrayal of virtue in its garb of icy indifference to the 
 human instincts of man. A tragedy of virtue ! Can it be true that one 
 may become possessed of too much virtue? Daudet is right. Either ex- 
 treme becomes a horror. This book is worth careful perusal by the 
 thoughtful and earnest. — Spectator. 
 
 It is beyond all question Daudet's most famous book. It is he of whom 
 Henry James wrote : "We have no one, either in England or America, to 
 oppose Alphonse Daudet." And Joaquin Miller said of him : " I had rather 
 be Alphonse Daudet than any other living man new in literature, except 
 two " — meaning Victor Hugo and Joaquin Miller. " L'Evangeliste " is pro- 
 fusely illustrated. — The Troy Daily Times. 
 
 Alphonse Daudet has been called " the poet of romance " and well so. 
 He is the most delicate, the most sympathetic, and most charming of alhour 
 contemporary writers of romance. This, his latest, is by far hie best.— 
 Agitator. 
 
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 In Cloth, 320 Pages, f 1.25^ Paper, 50 Cents. 
 
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 Author of Poems of Passion^'' '-^ Poems of Pleasure^'* Etc, 
 
 , From the evidence of dramatic power, literary skill, and felicitous style, 
 furnished in her story of "Sweet Danger," Mrs. Ella Wheeler Wilcox seems 
 likely to distinguish herself as much as a writer of fiction as she has already 
 done as a poet. Mrs. Wilcox has evidently been guided in the composition 
 of this story by a strong moral purpose, but we finish its perusal with a 
 sense of injury and injustice done to the hapless " Dolores." Her character 
 was the result, to a great extent, of her early environment and training, 
 and up to the last, faulty as her life had been, there was much that makes 
 womanhood sacred, with which she had not parted. She had been led into 
 and along the path of error by the man to whom she was passionately de- 
 voted, but she alone becomes the victim, while " Durand " escapes without so 
 much as a reprimand. This is the world's way, but we think it the function 
 of the artist to indicate that, in his case, as in hers, justice should be admin- 
 istered, and that man as well as woman should be made to pay in full the 
 peaalty of his sin. — Home Journal. 
 
 Ella Wheeler Wilcox's aim, or one of her aims, is to contrast two types 
 of womanhood, as affected by contact w^ith the "stronger" sex; the one 
 type, independent, to her owm risk ; the other, thoroughly " feminine " and 
 therefore certain to be safe. " Sweet Danger " is a thoughtful and pur- 
 poseful story, lacking neither human nor intellectual interest. The author 
 has treated a delicate subject with restraint and a measure of grace, and 
 she does not forget to enforce truths, suggested by the relations of the 
 sexes, which can not be too frequently asserted. — The Boston Times. 
 
 This novel is modern in type, and touches upon subjects which have 
 excited the greatest discussion of late years. There are several poems of 
 the passionate type; also the dramatic element is very prominent in parts of 
 the work. — Nassau Literary Magazine. 
 
 Mrs. Wilcox has given us a very readable novel, the style of which is 
 excellent and the plot fair. It is to be regretted that two of the leading 
 characters emulate what was worst in the lives of " George Eliot " and 
 Lewes, but sin brought its own reward. The book shows in many ways 
 the strong talent of the author. — Public Opinion. 
 
 FINEI.Y ILJLUSTKATED. 
 
 In Cloth, 320 Pages, $1.25; Paper, 50 Cents. 
 
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 HAS REACHED THREE EDITIONS IN SIX WEEKS. 
 H. RIDER HAGGARD OUTDONE. 
 
 The scene of the story is laid in Australia, among a newly discovered 
 race of beings. It is a remarkably original novel, and will be read with 
 great interest. — Chicago Herald. 
 
 The story is well conceived, and in the same popular strain as those 
 written by the author's famous cousin, H. Rider Haggard. — Chicago Mail. 
 
 The style of this brilliant writer is closely allied to that of Rudyard 
 Kipling, but he outranks his English contemporary in his profounder 
 knowledge of affairs. — St. Paul Globe. 
 
 The scarcity of Australian novels makes this one doubly entertaining. 
 It is certainly "novel" enough to richly merit its name. — Current Literature. 
 
 It shows imagination and creative genius, and gives great pleasure in 
 its perusal. The illustrations deserve special mention. — The Detroit 
 Tribune. 
 
 Those who enjoy intellectual flights of the imagination, cleverly re- 
 corded in fiction, will read this adventurous tale with interest. — Brooklyn 
 (N. Y.) Times. 
 
 The brain of Cervantes, nor the fancy of Swift, nor even the weird 
 tales from the Orient, for which Galliland is responsible, outrank this 
 romance in the flights of fairy fiction. — Every Saturday. 
 
 Is an ingenious, highly original, interesting story, the plot of which is 
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BILL NYE'S NEW BOOK. 
 
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 LAUGH AND GROW FAT. 
 
 A collection of the best writings 
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 BILL NYE'S REMARKS. 
 "I love to believe that true great- 
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 to say that greatness is a lottery is 
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 "I should like to do anything that would advance the cause of 
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 lest some day I might be called upon to dissect a friend for whom I had 
 a great attachment, or some creditor who had an attachment for me." 
 
 "1 have passed through an earthquake and an Indian outbreak, but 
 I would rather ride an earthquake without saddle or bridle, than to 
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 "Age brings caution and a lot of shop-worn experience, purchased 
 at the highest market price. Time brings vain regrets and wisdom 
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 unless the good hotels are closer together, we shall have to multiply 
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 PRESS NOTICES. 
 
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POEMS >^D— 
 
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If 
 
 HistoFii of American Politics." 
 
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 AHISTOHf OF THE UNITED STUnUKOTilE COWS, 
 
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 Containing- Six Highly Colored Diagrams Illustrating the 
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LAS VEGAS, HOT SPRINGS, i^. 3VI 
 
 The=e Springs are easily accessible by the Santa Fe railroad, in about 40 boars 
 jTOSi Chicago in a luxurious coach and over a smooth roadbed. 
 
 The springs are numerous and the wafer is of all temperatures (from hot to 
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THE BEST LINE 1 
 
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