ly thought to bring that proud
marquis to trouble and humiliation. He plotted with Austria against his
own country. Chance gave me knowledge of this; I spoke of it, but I did
not know--how could I guess?--they trapped and duped me. When I realised
what I had done, it was too late."

"It is perhaps a little difficult, Madame," said Sir Percy, after
a moment of silence between them, "to go back over the past. I have
confessed to you that my memory is short, but the thought certainly
lingered in my mind that, at the time of the Marquis' death, I entreated
you for an explanation of those same noisome popular rumours. If that
same memory does not, even now, play me a trick, I fancy that you
refused me ALL explanation then, and demanded of my love a humiliating
allegiance it was not prepared to give."

"I wished to test your love for me, and it did not bear the test. You
used to tell me that you drew the very breath of life but for me, and
for love of me."

"And to probe that love, you demanded that I should forfeit mine
honour," he said, whilst gradually his impassiveness seemed to leave
him, his rigidity to relax; "that I should accept without murmur or
question, as a dumb and submissive slave, every action of my
mistress. My heart overflowing with love and passion, I ASKED for no
explanation--I WAITED for one, not doubting--only hoping. Had you
spoken but one word, from you I would have accepted any explanation and
believed it. But you left me without a word, beyond a bald confession of
the actual horrible facts; proudly you returned to your brother's house,
and left me alone . . . for weeks . . . not knowing, now, in whom
to believe, since the shrine, which contained my one illusion, lay
shattered to earth at my feet."

She need not complain now that he was cold and impassive; his very
voice shook with an intensity of passion, which he was making superhuman
efforts to keep in check.

"Aye! the madness of my pride!" she said sadly. "Hardly had I gone,
already I had repented. But when I returned, I found you, oh, so
altered! wearing already that mask of somnolent indifference which you
have never laid aside until . . . until now."

She was so close to him that her soft, loose hair was wafted against
his cheek; her eyes, glowing with tears, maddened him, the music in her
voice sent fire through his veins. But he would not yield to the magic
charm of this woman whom he had so deeply loved, and at whose hands
his pride