vous and excited and timid, fearing speech.

'Carlotta,' he said at last--I had perceived that he was struggling to a
resolution--'this is the best thing that could have happened. Whatever we
do, everybody will believe that we are running off together.'

'I think they have been believing that ever since we left London,' I
said; and I told him about Miss Kate's treatment of me at lunch. 'But how
can that affect us?' I demanded.

'Mary will believe it--does believe, I'm sure. Long before this, people
will have enlightened her. And now the Vicarys have seen us, it's all
over. Our hand is forced, isn't it?'

'Frank,' I said, 'didn't you think my letter was right?'

'I obeyed it,' he replied heavily. 'I haven't even written to you. I
meant to when I got to Mentone.'

'But didn't you think I was right?'

'I don't know. Yes--I suppose it was.' His lower lip fell. 'Of course I
don't want you to do anything that you--'

'Dinner, please,' said my negro, putting his head between us.

We both informed the man that we should not dine, and I asked him to tell
Yvonne not to wait for me.

'There's your maid, too,' said Frank. 'How are we going to get out of it?
The thing's settled for us.'

'My dear, dear boy!' I exclaimed. 'Are we to outrage our consciences
simply because people think we have outraged them?'

'It isn't my conscience--it's yours,' he said.

'Well, then--mine.'

I drew down my veil; I could scarcely keep dry eyes.

'Why are you so hard, Carlotta?' he cried. 'I can't understand you. I
never could. But you'll kill me--that's what you'll do.'

Impulsively I leaned forward; and he seized my hand. Our antagonism
melted in tears. Oh the cruel joy of that moment! Who will dare to say
that the spirit cannot burn with pleasure while drowning in grief? Or
that tragedy may not be the highest bliss? That instant of renunciation
was our true marriage. I realize it now--a union that nothing can soil
nor impair.

'I love you; you are fast and fast in my heart,' I murmured. 'But you
must go back to Mary. There is nothing else.'

And I withdrew my hand.

He shook his head.

'You've no right, my dearest, to tell me to go back to Mary. I cannot.'

'Forgive me,' I said. 'I have only the right to ask you to leave me.'

'Then there is no hope?'

His lips trembled. Ah! those lips!

I made a sign that there was no hope. And we sat in silence, overcome.

A servant came to arrange the compartment for sleeping, and