TWENTY-EIGHTTRYING to break out of a gray mist of feeling, I went to look in the mirror. Instantly I was reassured; as I rapidly continued my toilet, I was aware of a mounting excitement that did not befuddle me but was like a brisk, cool, breeze blowing across my brain. My eyes felt sharp; I was conscious of danger but exhilarated by it; my movements were quick and positive; there was a dark-red flush on my face. In place of the black dress I was wearing, fit for a governess, I put on a little green frock, almost too demure for evening wear, with a white Lord Byron collar. In this I put the pearl Anthony had given me for a parting gift.
As I entered the parlor, Jeffery rose and bowed. I had thought I had half imagined his resemblance to an eagle, but there it was, more plain than ever. I
