you now with a clear conscience."

"So he can. Mrs. Bruce will be enchanted. She hates me, though she
pretends not to and thinks I don't know. Isn't it funny of her? Allegro,
you're a darling!" Impulsively she whizzed round and kissed her friend.
"You are the one person in the world who loves me, and the only one I
love!"

"Violet dearest, how can you say so?"

"The truth, dear, I assure you. I fell in love last winter when we were
at Nice with a boy with the most romantic, heavenly eyes you ever
saw--an Italian. And then he went and spoilt everything by falling in
love with me. I hated him then. He became cheap and very nasty. He only
liked my outer covering too, and was not in the least interested in the
creature that lived inside."

"You apparently only cared for his eyes," observed Olga.

"Yes, exactly, dear. How clever you are! I should like to have brought
them away with me as trophies. But he didn't love me enough for that,
and nothing else would have satisfied me. Have you put that hateful,
revolting book quite out of reach? I think you had better. If I get it
again, you won't take it away so easily a second time."

"I can't think what makes you like such beastly things," said Olga,
sitting down upon it firmly.

"Nor I, dear. It's just the way I'm made. I don't like them either. I
hate them. That's where the fascination comes in. There! Let me put on
my hat, and I am ready. I suppose I must veil myself? We mustn't dazzle
the impressionable Max, must we? He must accustom his sight to me
gradually. Never mind the rest of those things, Allegro! Francoise can
finish, and send them on by the luggage-cart in the evening. Come along,
let us face the dragon and get it over."

She linked her arm in Olga's once more, and drew her to the door. Olga
carried the book with her for safety, determined that her friend should
feast no more on horrors.

"What a little tyrant you are!" laughed Violet. "I am coming to protect
you from the dragon, but I shall probably end by protecting the dragon
from you. Do you keep a censorious eye upon the literature he reads
also?"

"I leave him quite alone," said Olga, "unless he interferes with me."

"Ah! And then, I suppose, you scratch him heartily Poor young man! But I
should imagine he is quite capable of clipping your claws if they get in
his way. My dear, your fate will be no easy one. I should begin to treat
him kindly if I were you."

"I shall never do that," said Olga w