"How the deuce did I know that he had a wife up in the hills somewhere?" cried Marsoc.
"Very true; but you knew of his habits," his sister rejoined gently. "You knew what a boastful, vain, hard-drinking, immoral man he was, and at least you might have warned me."
"What good would that have done?" asked her brother, in heated accents.... He was tall, very blond and his eyes were hopelessly blue. Brother and sister they were—that a dog might have discovered—but there was more reserve, chilliness of manner, coldness in the woman. She could never give herself to any one or anything with the same vigor as Val. She lacked enthusiasms and had a doubtful temper. Even now, as they faced each other, she forced him to drop his eyes; then the doorbell rang.
"If it's Belle, send her up at once. Run, Val, and see." Selene almost pushed her brother down the short flight that led to the landing on the second floor. The house was old-fashioned, the drawing-room upstairs. Val went down grumbling and wondering what sort of a girl was his sister. He almost ran into a woman dressed in deep mourning.
"Why, Belle—why, Mrs. Brazier, is that you?" he exclaimed, and then felt like biting his tongue.
Bellona Brydges was as big as Brünnhilde and dark as Carmen. Her tread was majestic and her black eyes, aquiline nose and firm, large-lipped mouth, gave an expression of power to her countenance. Her bearing was one of command, her voice as rich as an English horn, and her manner forthright.
"Never mind the Brazier part of it, Val," she replied, in an off-hand, unembarrassed tone. "I want to see Selene and have this dreadful business over before the funeral. Where is she?"
Val motioned upstairs and the clear voice of his sister was heard:
"Is that you, Belle? Come up right away...."
II