wickedness. Corbario seemed to understand her better in this than she
understood herself, and devoted his excellent gifts and his almost
superhuman patience to the task of forming a modern Galahad. Her
confidence in her husband increased month by month, and year by year.

"I wish to make a new will," she said to her lawyer in the third year of
her marriage. "I shall leave my husband a life-interest in a part of my
fortune, and the reversion of the whole in case anything should happen
to my son."

The lawyer was a middle-aged man, with hard black eyes. While he was
listening to a client, he had a habit of folding his arms tightly across
his chest and crossing one leg over the other. When the Signora Corbario
had finished speaking he sat quite still for a moment, and then
noiselessly reversed the crossing of his legs and the folding of his
arms, and looked into her face. It was very gentle, fair, and
thoughtful.

"I presume," answered the lawyer, "that the clause providing for a
reversion is only intended as an expression of your confidence in your
husband?"

"Affection," answered the Signora, "includes confidence."

The lawyer raised one eyebrow almost imperceptibly, and changed his
position a little.

"Heaven forbid," he said, "that any accident should befall your son!"

"Heaven forbid it!" replied the Signora. "He is very strong," she