She only watched his movements day by day, and always held herself ready to act promptly.

When Philip came into the presence of this attractive woman, he could not realize that she was the subject of all the scandal he had heard.  She received him with quite the old Hawkeye openness and cordiality, and fell to talking at once of their little acquaintance there; and it seemed impossible that he could ever say to her what he had come determined to say.  Such a man as Philip has only one standard by which to judge women.

Laura recognized that fact no doubt.  The better part of her woman’s nature saw it.  Such a man might, years ago, not now, have changed her nature, and made the issue of her life so different, even after her cruel abandonment.  She had a dim feeling of this, and she would like now to stand well with him.  The spark of truth and honor that was left in her was elicited by his presence.  It was this influence that governed her conduct in this interview.

“I have come,” said Philip in his direct manner, “from my friend Mr. Brierly.  You are not ignorant of his feeling towards you?”

“Perhaps not.”

“But perhaps you do not know, you who have so much admiration, how sincere and overmastering his love is for you?” Philip would not have spoken so plainly, if he had in mind anything except to draw from Laura something that would end Harry’s passion.

“And is sincere love so rare, Mr. Sterling?” asked Laura, moving her foot a little, and speaking with a shade of sarcasm.

“Perhaps not in Washington,” replied Philip,—­tempted into a similar tone.  “Excuse my bluntness,” he continued, “but would the knowledge of his love; would his devotion, make any difference to you in your Washington life?”

“In respect to what?” asked Laura quickly.

“Well, to others.  I won’t equivocate—­to Col.  Selby?”

Laura’s face flushed with anger, or shame; she looked steadily at Philip and began,

“By what right, sir,—­”

“By the right of friendship,” interrupted Philip stoutly.  “It may matter little to you.  It is everything to him.  He has a Quixotic notion that you would turn back from what is before you for his sake.  You cannot be ignorant of what all the city is talking of.”  Philip said this determinedly and with some bitterness.

It was a full minute before Laura spoke.  Both had risen, Philip as if to go, and Laura in suppressed excitement.  When she spoke her voice was very unsteady, and she looked down.

“Yes, I know.  I perfectly understand what you mean.  Mr. Brierly is nothing—­simply nothing.  He is a moth singed, that is all—­the trifler with women thought he was a wasp.  I have no pity for him, not the least.  You may tell him not to make a fool of himself, and to keep away.  I say this on your account, not his.  You are not like him.  It is enough for me that you want it so.  Mr. Sterling,” she continued,