"It is not worth telling again," she said, as they returned to the fire; "and, besides, I told it to you in the strictest confidence. And if that is not reason enough, I don't mind confessing that it is a story which doesn't exhibit me in an amiable light. It shows a temper and viciousness that you count among your home comforts, and don't feel it decent to display for the benefit of any one but your immediate relatives."
Tredennis looked down at her curiously. His first glance at her had shown him that to-night she was even farther removed from his past than she had seemed before. Her rich dress showed flashes of bright color, her eyes were alight with some touch of excitement, and her little wrists were covered with pretty barbarities of bangles and charms which jingled as she moved.
"I should like to hear the story," he said.
"It is a very good story," commented Arbuthnot, laughing; "I think I would tell it over again."
"Oh, yes," said Richard; "Colonel Tredennis must hear it."
Bertha looked across at Tredennis, and as she did so he saw in her eyes what he had seen the night before and had not understood, but which dawned upon him now,—a slight smiling defiance of his thoughts, whatsoever they might be.
"You won't like it," she said; "but you shall hear it, if you wish. It is about a great lady"—
"That will add to the interest," said Tredennis. "You have great ladies in Washington?"
"It is infinitely to our credit that they are only occasional incidents," she answered, "and that they don't often last long. When one considers the number of quiet, domesticated women who find themselves launched suddenly, by some wave of chance, into the whirl of public life, one naturally wonders that we are not afflicted with some very great ladies indeed; but it must be confessed we have far less to complain of in that respect than might be expected."
"But this particular great lady?" said Tredennis.