ts totally unlike?

Perhaps these were no words to address to an overwrought soul, mastered
by passion. But, as I have said, I was terrified and bewildered. The
strong desire I felt to treat him with all the gentleness and tender
consideration I could muster, must have been to some extent neutralized
by my anxiety to put an end to the interview. As I spoke, his eyes
seemed to grow darker and to glow with fire, and the cunning, satyr-like
expression I had noticed before to intensify.

"Pardon me," I said, "for the pain I cause you. My presence can only
increase your suffering. I will leave you, and if you wish, we will
talk of this to-morrow."

"To-morrow!" he answered; "there may be no to-morrow. It is still
to-day! still to-day!" he repeated with a sort of chuckle. "I will live
to-day, though I may die to-morrow. My goddess, my queen is here, and
love--love--love!" With a bound he folded me in his huge arms and
pressed my face against his lips three times in a mad embrace.

"Coward! wretch!" I screamed; but I was powerless as a babe.

He let me go.

"I will not hurt you, my own true love. A kiss can do no harm. Once
more!" and he threw his arms wide open for a fresh embrace.

But another voice interrupted his purpose. "Coward! you shall not touch
a hair of her head."

It was Mr. Spence who spoke; we had not noticed the door open. He strode
forward and placed himself between me and the artist. On the threshold
stood Miss Kingsley, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as our eyes
met. I would gladly have given half my fortune to blot out the past few
minutes.

"Is this the courtesy of Bohemia?" asked Mr. Spence, breaking the
silence that followed. He was pale, and his lips were set, and there had
never seemed to me so little difference in stature between him and Mr.
Barr.

"It is love," was the answer. "The rapture of those kisses will be on my
lips to my dying day." The artist began to troll the words of a mad song
of his own composition I had heard before.

"Paul Barr, though we have long differed on many subjects, we have been
friends. But after what I have heard and seen to-day, we must meet
henceforth as strangers," said Mr. Spence, with a fire I had never known
him display before.

"I adore her, and I am human. See there!" he pointed to the portrait,
which hitherto had escaped their attention. "I would give even that for
another kiss."

At the sight of the picture Mr. Spence gave a start, for the