soul appeared an immensity. She deliberately, because she was so self-sacrificing, saddled herself with no end of difficulties and obstacles. And at this moment, when she was meanest, she appeared to herself to be more heroic than she had ever been before.
Above all, then, it was important to be careful, to make the insupportable appear the desirable, to make treachery robe itself in the garb of loyalty and friendship. On the whole, after a cup of tea, she felt up to it. Madge was coming down to-day, too. Madge knew so much; Lucia would try to learn about these things.
Her bath was waiting for her next door, and she got out of bed to go to it. She always took her bath dead-cold, whether summer blazed or winter froze, for there was nothing so sane, so invigorating as that cool plunge. Sometimes on hot mornings she would stand by her bath, delaying the delightful moment, and looking at the wavering reflection of herself in the water, and this she did to-day. The window of her bathroom was wide open, and the warm breeze that entered was exquisite to the skin. Edgar always had a hot bath in the morning, even in Egypt, in obedience to medical suggestion. That was so characteristic of him—so warm, so comfortable. He had taken to a hot bath after an attack of lumbago some years before; during the few days in which he was incapable of movement he had read the greater part of Plato's "Republic." And, with a sudden little laugh, partly of derision, partly of impatience, she stepped into the long white bath.
She almost sang to herself in the briskness and rejuvenation of the moment. How good her sponge smelled, with the reminiscence of the salt still in it! How good was the rough towel, and the glow it brought! How delicious the cold marble floor of the bathroom! And how warm she was! how vigorous! how competent! Indeed, it was little wonder that Edgar loved her; it was little wonder that she too loved. She was made to love and to be loved, this young, vital, exquisite thing.
It was necessary, of course, to have a long, sensible talk with Charlie, since it was for that reason (among others) that she had made him stop here, instead of following his notion that he had better go away. No doubt the night would have brought better counsel to him, as it had to her, and he would see that they must be calm and sensible, and—just see what happened. It was
