ion!" The girl flushed hotly. "Deny it if you can--that you
didn't flirt, as you Americans call it, outrageously."

An instant Betty Dalrymple bit her lip but she returned his gaze
steadily enough. "The adjective is somewhat strong. Perhaps I might have
done what you say, a little bit--for which," with an accent of
self-scorn, "I am sorry, as I have already told you."

He brought together his hands. "Was it just a 'little bit' when at
Homburg you danced with me nearly every time at the grand duchess' ball?
_Sapristi_! I have not forgotten. Was it only a 'little bit' when you
let me ride with you at Pau--those wild steeplechases!--or permitted
me to follow you to Madrid, Nice, elsewhere?--wherever caprice took
you?"

"I asked you not to--"

"But with a sparkle in your eyes--a challenge--"

"I knew you for a nobleman; I thought you a gentleman," said Betty
Dalrymple spiritedly.

Prince Boris made a savage gesture. "You thought--" He broke off. "I
will tell you what you thought: That after amusing yourself with me you
could say, _'Va-t-en!'_ with a wave of the hand. As if I were a clod
like those we once had under us! American girls would make serfs of
their admirers. Their men," contemptuously, "are fools where their women
are concerned. You dismiss them; they walk away meekly. Another comes.
_Voila!_" He snapped his fingers. "The game goes on."

A spark appeared in her eyes. "Don't you think you are slightly
insulting?" she asked in a low tense tone.

"Is it not the truth? And more"--with a harsh laugh--"I am even told
that in your wonderful country the rejected suitor--_mon Dieu!_--often
acts as best man at the wedding--that the body-guard on the holy
occasion may be composed of a sad but sentimental phalanx from the army
of the refused. But with us Russians these matters are different. We can
not thus lightly control affairs of the heart; they control us,
and--those who flirt, as you call it, must pay. The code of our honor
demands it--"

"Your honor?" It was Betty Dalrymple who laughed now.

"You find that--me--very diverting?" slowly. "But you will learn this is
no jest."

She disdained to answer and started toward a side door.

"No," he said, stepping between her and the threshold.

"Be good enough!" Miss Dalrymple's voice sounded imperiously; her eyes
flashed.

"One moment!" He was fast losing self-control. "You hold yourself from
me--refuse to listen to me. Why? Do you know what I think?" Vehemen