ot wait till the last rites were paid to
the dead? Is your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of
conscience? Are you lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition of
great souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have stooped
to treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased with
glittering promises that which in time would have been given to you.
And you will not fulfill these promises, for honesty has no part in your
affair. Shame on you, Madame. By dishonorable means you have gained this
room. By dishonorable means you destroyed all those props on which my
father leaned. You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come to
me as a woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided your
desires--Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have listened. Whatever it
signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come then--but,
no! you must come to demand your rights when I am defenseless. You must
come with a sword when there is none to defend. Is it possible that in
our veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you.
Rule here, if you will; but remember, between you and your crown
there will always be the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur," turning toward
Fitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, "your father
and mine were friends--I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, and
leave me with my dead."

The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever.

To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left her
without answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those innocent eyes her
soul lay bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For the
first time she saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served her
unselfishly? Aye, there was one. And strangely enough, the first thought
which formed in her mind when chaos was passed, was of him.

How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her that
she cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What was the
meaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her;
for now perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down from
the pinnacle of her pride to which she might never again ascend. He
had kissed her. How she hated him! And yet... Ah, the wine was flat,
tinctured with the bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the
cup to her lips. She could not remain silent before this girl; she must
reply; her shame was too deep to resolve itself into