l with starlight. He ventured closer, bent
over; the widely opened eyes looked suddenly into his.

"The woman told me you had nothing to do with it--that plot of hers and
the prince," she said slowly. "I know now why you were on the boat,
and--all the rest--what it meant for me, your being there."

"You know, then"--embarrassed--"the awful mess I made of it all--"

"You dared a great deal," she said softly.

"And came an awful cropper!"

She did not answer directly. "At first Francois was most reluctant to
risk going with me," she went on. "I thought it odd, at the time, he
should change so suddenly, become so brave. Now I understand, at least,
a little--in a general way. I have been over-quick to think evil of you,
ever since we met again. Perhaps, in the past, too"--slowly--"I have
been--"

"Betty!" he cried uneasily, and seemed about once more to move away,
when--

"Don't go," she said. "I'll not talk if you command me not to. You've
been the master to-day, you know," with subtle accent.

"Have I?" His voice showed evidence of distress. "I didn't really
mean--it was necessary," he ended firmly.

"Of course it was," said the girl. Her accent conveyed no note of
displeasure. Profile-wise he saw her face now--the young moon beyond.
"Don't think I'm blaming you. I'm not quite so hard, perhaps, as I once
was." Mr. Heatherbloom stood back a little farther in the shadow.
"Maybe, my poor little standard of judgment--" she stopped. "I have been
heedless, heartless, perhaps--"

"You!" he exclaimed. "You!" There was only unfaltering adoration in his
tone--faith, unchanged and unchangeable.

She spoke with a little catch in her voice: "Oh, I haven't cared. I
_did_ flirt with the prince; he accused me of that. He was right. What
did it matter to me, if I made others suffer? I haven't always had so
good a time as I seemed to--" There was a ring of passion in her tone
now. "What happened?" she said, turning on him swiftly. "What has
happened? I want to know all--"

"You mean about the prince?"

"I know all I want to know about him," scornfully. "I mean"--her slender
figure bent toward Mr. Heatherbloom--"you! What has taken place, and
why has it? What does it all mean? Don't you understand?"

He drew in his breath slowly.

"Tell me," she said, still tensely poised, her eyes insistent in the
shadow of her hair.

"Miss Dalrymple--Betty--" he half stammered.

"I want to know," she repeated. There was an inexorable