The man was my husband. "Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. “To-night we are as we have always been. The applause was uproarious at the end of the concert. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. He had adroitly captured her and led her away from her other guests on the pretext of feigning an interest in her charitable attitude to the newly arrived French. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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