es in the streets for gold, and who in spite of their criminal
trade are less vile than such a woman as the one I had wedded. Mere
beauty of face and form can be bought as easily as one buys a
flower--but the loyal heart, the pure soul, the lofty intelligence
which can make of woman an angel--these are unpurchasable ware, and
seldom fall to the lot of man. For beauty, though so perishable, is a
snare to us all--it maddens our blood in spite of ourselves--we men are
made so. How was it that I--even I, who now loathed the creature I had
once loved--could not look upon her physical loveliness without a
foolish thrill of passion awaking within me--passion that had something
of the murderous in it--admiration that was almost brutal--feelings
which I could not control though I despised myself for them while they
lasted! There is a weak point in the strongest of us, and wicked women
know well where we are most vulnerable. One dainty pin-prick
well-aimed--and all the barriers of caution and reserve are broken
down--we are ready to fling away our souls for a smile or a kiss.
Surely at the last day when we are judged--and may be condemned--we can
make our last excuse to the Creator in the word? of the first misguided
man:

"The woman whom thou gavest to be with me--she tempted me, and I did
eat!"

I lost no time that day in going to the Villa Romani. I drove there in
my carriage, taking with me the usual love-offering in the shape of a
large gilded osier-basket full of white violets. Their delicious odor
reminded me of that May morning when Stella was born--and then quickly
there flashed into my mind the words spoken by Guido Ferrari at the
time. How mysterious they had seemed to me then--how clear their
meaning now! On arriving at the villa I found my fiance in her own
boudoir, attired in morning deshabille, if a trailing robe of white
cashmere trimmed with Mechlin lace and swan's-down can be considered
deshabille. Her rich hair hung loosely on her shoulders, and she was
seated in a velvet easy-chair before a small sparkling wood fire,
reading. Her attitude was one of luxurious ease and grace, but she
sprung up as soon as her maid announced me, and came forward with her
usual charming air of welcome, in which there was something imperial,
as of a sovereign who receives a subject. I presented the flowers I had
brought, with a few words of studied and formal compliment, uttered for
the benefit of the servant who lingered in the