ould know, and every one
would suffer more. Not now--no, not now. I must live on, but not here.
I must go away. I must find a place to go where Rudyard will not come.
There is no place so far but it is not far enough. I am twenty-five,
and all is over--all is done for me. I have nothing that I want to
keep, there is nothing that I want to do except to go--to go and to be
alone. Alone, always alone now. It is either that, or be Jezebel, or--"

The door opened, and the servant brought a card to her. "His
Excellency, the Moravian ambassador," the footman said.

"Monsieur Mennaval?" she asked, mechanically, as though scarcely
realizing what he had said.

"Yes, ma'am, Mr. Mennaval."

"Please say I am indisposed, and am sorry I cannot receive him to-day,"
she said.

"Very good, ma'am." The footman turned to go, then came back.

"Shall I tell the maid you want her?" he asked, respectfully.

"No, why should you?" she asked.

"I thought you looked a bit queer, ma'am," he responded, hastily. "I
beg your pardon, ma'am."

She rewarded him with a smile. "Thank you, James, I think I should like
her after all. Ask her to come at once."

When he had gone she leaned back and shut her eyes. For a moment she
was perfectly motionless, then she sat up again and looked at the card
in her hand.

"M. Mennaval--M. Mennaval," she said, with a note so cynical that it
betrayed more than her previous emotion, to such a point of despair her
mind had come.

M. Mennaval had played his part, had done his service, had called out
from her every resource of coquetry and lure; and with wonderful art
she had cajoled him till he had yielded to influence, and Ian had
turned the key in the international lock. M. Mennaval had been used
with great skill to help the man who was now gone from her forever,
whom perhaps she would never see again; and who wanted never to see her
again, never in all time or space. M. Mennaval had played his game for
his own desire, and he had lost; but what had she gained where M.
Mennaval had lost? She had gained that which now Ian despised, which he
would willingly, so far as she was concerned, reject with contempt....
And yet, and yet, while Ian lived he must still be grateful to her
that, by whatever means, she had helped him to do what meant so much to
England. Yes, he could not wholly dismiss her from his mind; he must
still say, "This she did for me--this thing, in itself not commendable,
she did for me; and I t