hing drawn loosely over her shining hair.

I thought her paler than usual--though that might have been the effect
of the electric lights overhead--and her face was wistful, but very fair
and sweet and innocent. One could scarcely believe it the same face
that, a few minutes before, had been animated by audacious mischief and
coquetry. Truly her moods were many, and they changed with every
fleeting moment.

"I've behaved abominably to you all the evening," she whispered
tremulously. "And yet you've forgiven me."

"There's nothing to forgive. The queen can do no wrong," I answered.
(How Jim Cayley would have jeered at me if he could have heard!) "Anne,
I love you. I think you must know that by this time, dear."

"Yes, I know, and--and I am glad--Maurice, though I don't deserve that
you should love me. I've teased you so shamefully--I don't know what
possessed me!"

If I could only have kissed those faltering lips! But I dare not. We
were within range of too many curious eyes. Still, I held her hand in
mine, and our eyes met. In that brief moment we saw each into the
other's soul, and saw love there, the true love passionate and pure,
that, once born, lasts forever, through life and death and all eternity.

She was the first to speak, breaking a silence that could have lasted
but a fraction of time, but there are seconds in which one experiences
an infinitude of joy or sorrow.

"And you are going away--so soon! But we shall meet to-morrow?"

"Yes, we'll have one day, at least; there is so much to say--"

Then, in a flash, I remembered the old man and Cassavetti,--the mystery
that enshrouded them, and her.

"I may not be able to come early, darling," I continued hurriedly. "I
have to see that old man in the morning. He says he knows you,--that you
are in danger; I could not make out what he meant. And he spoke of
Cassavetti; he came to see him, really. That was why I dare not tell you
the whole story just now--"

"Cassavetti!" she echoed, and I saw her eyes dilate and darken. "Who is
he--what is he? I never saw him before, but he came up and talked to Mr.
Cayley, and asked to be introduced to me; and--and I was so vexed with
you, Maurice, that I began to flirt with him; and then--oh, I don't
know--he is so strange--he perplexes--frightens me!"

"And yet you gave him a flower," I said reproachfully.

"I can't think why! I felt so queer, as if I couldn't help myself. I
just had to give him one,--that one; and w