ood for
conversation, and had taken the first opportunity to rid herself of a
person whom she considered actually displeasing. Duncan, feeling it was
expedient to smooth the feathers he had purposely rumpled, approached
Marion, and, assuming a penitent air, he sat down beside her and said
with mock humility: "Am I not to be permitted to address you at all;
does your hatred extend that far?"

"You haven't tried," said Marion, her resentment increasing.

"How could I?" replied Duncan. "You seemed so engrossed by that young
collegian's charms, that you could scarcely expect me, whom you avow to
be an enemy, to increase your wrath by interrupting."

"I think you were mistaken," answered Marion. "You said you intended to
make me your friend even against my will. There was no avowed enmity on
my part; I merely considered your method of procedure somewhat
eccentric."

"Indeed! In what way, may I ask?"

"It was you who challenged. Do you expect a victory without an
engagement?"

"Those were the tactics the Russians used against Napoleon."

"Coldness was their chief weapon," Marion replied, "and you certainly
are well armed with it."

"You forget the fire at Russia's heart."

"Was it not the fire of hate?" she asked.

"No," he said. "The fire of the heart is love, and hate is but its
ashes." His voice had softened as he spoke, and Marion felt that his
eyes were scanning her thoughts; she turned her head away, but her eyes
were drawn slowly back until they for a moment met his glance. The
knowledge that anyone could so influence her frightened her; but it was
a fascinating fear which tempted investigation. She was about to reply
when she became conscious of the presence of others; they were departing
guests, who announced a breaking up of the party, and Marion was obliged
to exchange conventional civilities with her friends until the room was
slowly emptied. Harold had hurried away alone, without even a word with
Florence. The poor fellow had not the heart to speak to her again that
night, and he felt that she would understand the reason for his
rudeness. Duncan was thus left to his own resources, and, seeing that
Roswell Sanderson and Florence had gone into the library, and that all
the guests had departed, he made the conventional move to leave.

"Don't hurry," said Marion, "it is only eleven o'clock, and you see I
am left quite alone."

"I will remain," replied Duncan, as he took a seat beside her on a
dainty _