sure of it."

But my moment of weakness was over. I had a sudden vision of Feurgeres,
standing on the stage, listening with bowed head to the thunder of
applause, but with his eyes turned always to the darkened box, with its
lonely bouquet of pink roses--lonely to all save him, who alone saw the
hand which held them--of Feurgeres in his sanctuary, bending lovingly
over that chair, empty to all save him, Feurgeres, with that smile of
unearthly happiness upon his lips--calm, debonair and steadfast. This
was the man who had trusted me. I raised my head.

"Madame," I said quietly, "what you suggest is impossible."

She stared at me in incredulous astonishment.

"But I do not understand," she exclaimed weakly. "You agree, surely?"

I shook my head.

"On the contrary, Madame," I said, "I beg that you will not allude
further to the matter."

The Archduchess muttered something in German to herself which I did not
understand. Perhaps it was just as well.

"You will vouchsafe me," she begged, speaking very slowly, and keeping
her eyes fixed on me, "some reason for your refusal?"

"I will give you two," I answered. "First, it is contrary to the spirit
of my promise to Monsieur Feurgeres."

Her lip curled.

"Well?"

"Secondly," I continued, "I should be taking a dishonourable advantage
of my position with regard to Isobel. She is very grateful to me, and
she would very likely mistake her sentiments if I were to speak to her
as you suggest. She is too young to know what love is. She has met no
young men of her own rank, she does not understand in the least what
sort of position is in store for her."

"These are your reasons, then?"

"I venture to think that they are sufficient ones, Madame," I answered.

The Archduchess rose.

"We shall need a new Cervantes," she remarked, "to do justice to the
Englishman of to-day. I shall keep my word, Mr. Greatson, as regards
Isobel, and I can promise you this. If gaiety and eligible suitors, and
the luxury of her new life are not sufficient to stifle any sentimental
follies she may be nursing just now, I will not rest till I find other
means. Adelaide's future is arranged. I will set myself to make Isobel's
equally brilliant. I will make her the beauty of Europe. She shall
forget in a month the squalid days of her life with you and your friends
in an attic."

"So long as Isobel is happy," I answered, "my mission is accomplished,
and I am content."

"You are a fool and a l