airily. How little he understood! How well
she--Crystal--knew what had been the motive of that quixotic action. She
had learned so much to-night in the mazes of a waltz. Now, when she
closed her eyes, she could still feel the dreamy motion with that strong
arm round her, and she could hear the sweet, languid lilt of the music,
and all the delicious elvish whisperings that reached her ear through
the monotonous cadence of the dance. Of what her heart had felt then,
she need now no longer be ashamed: all that should shame her now were
her thoughts in the past, the belief that the hand which had held hers
on that evening--long ago--in Brestalou could possibly have been the
hand of a traitor: that the low-toned voice that spoke to her so
earnestly of friendship then could ever be raised for the utterance of a
lie.

Of such thoughts indeed she could be ashamed, and of her cruelty that
other night in Paris, when she had made him suffer so abominably through
her injustice and her contempt.

"The next few hours, perhaps, will atone for everything," Maurice had
added. Ah, well! perhaps! But they could not erase the past; they could
not control the more distant future. Maurice would come back--Crystal
prayed earnestly that he should--but Clyffurde was gone out of her life
for ever. God alone knew how this renewed war would end! How could she
hope ever to meet a friend who had gone away determined never to see her
again?

A last dance together! Well! they had had it! and that was the end. The
end of a sweet romance that had had no beginning. He had gone now, as
Maurice had gone, as all the men had gone who had listened to their
country's call, and she, Crystal, could not convey to him even by a
message, by a word, that she understood all that he had done for her,
all that his actions had meant of devotion, of self-effacement, of pure
and tender Love.

A last dance together, and that had been the end. Even thoughts of him
would be forbidden her after this: for her thoughts were no longer free
of him, her heart was no longer free; her promise belonged to Maurice,
but her heart, her thoughts were no longer hers to give.

It was all too late! too late! the next few hours might atone for the
past but they could not call it back.

Weary and heart-sick Crystal crawled into bed when the grey light of
dawn peeped cold and shy into her room. She could not sleep, but she lay
quite still while one by one those distant sounds died away