rn the world and
understand his point of view, but I was inflexibly opposed to a marriage
by force. I was resolved to die a captive, if necessary, rather than
yield.

"This went on for two years. You start? It is true. No breath of my
imprisonment reached the embassy--much less my home. For a captive, my
life was easy, and during the long months my hopes had died, though my
determination was as English and stubborn as ever. Lukos was equally
persistent in maintaining his original attitude--gentle, persuasive,
polite, though now he often urged his suit. I admit that in other
circumstances I might have yielded, but pride kept me strong.

"But I must hurry on--"

As she said these words there was a knock, and a dresser entered.

"Twenty minutes, Miss Blair," she said, without a glance at Lionel.

"More than enough," said the strange lady, but she rose as she spoke.
"You will stay to hear the end, Mr. Mortimer? I am on for most of this
act, but if you find it interesting, please stay and smoke. You must
excuse me."

"By all means," said Lionel, rising. "Shall I--?"

He looked toward the door. "Oh, no!" she replied, and drew the curtain
once more. Then she and the dresser disappeared behind it. A brief
interval elapsed and she came forth dressed to play her part. She threw
him a bright smile as he sprang to the door. "You must theorize till I
come again," she said cheerfully, and he smiled back. The dresser
followed her mistress, and he was left alone.

CHAPTER III

CONFIDENCES

"This," thought Lionel, as he waited for her return, "is a queer
business, a very queer business indeed. Here we have the indispensable
ingredients for an adventure--night, a pretty actress, and an
impecunious young man who has played the Noble 'Ero. What happens? The
lady sweeps the 'Ero off in a chariot, takes him to her dressing-room,
behaves with surprising propriety (quite like an ordinary mortal, in
fact), and proceeds to tell him a tale worthy of a writer of
feuilletons. What does it mean? What is the idea, the general scheme?
The tale must be lies,--pure, unvarnished buncombe, in the language of
the vulgar. It is too much to swallow a kidnaping, a tour through, let
me see ... Germany, Austria, Rumania, and, h'm ... h'm ... Bulgaria and
Rumelia; a bashi-bazouk in Constantinople, a forced marriage--I suppose
that's bound to come--and all the rest.... No, my delightful charmer,
this really is a little bit too much ... your e