ther how it seems to us."

"No."

"There!" He released her hand, and seemed also to free her, in some
subtle way. He was smiling at her, and she felt a keen gladness, like a
child who is told he has been good.

"Then we can be friends," he said, with a spontaneous relief, it seemed
to her, like her own. "The best of friends."

"Yes. The best of friends."

Electra felt rich. Her heart swelled, as now she reflected that here was
one who understood her. She had that warm consciousness common to all
MacLeod's partisans, that his world and hers were alike. Each was
mysteriously prevented by other people from enjoying the full freedom of
that world, because each had been, until now, uncompanioned. But they
had met at last. The path was plain. All sorts of gates were opening to
them.

"Was that all?" MacLeod was asking her. "Were there other scenes?"

Immediately she wished to tell him everything. Yet this was difficult.
She hesitated.

"I am"--she flushed redly--"I am not engaged to Peter. He doesn't care
about me."

"My dear lady! He would say you do not care for him."

Then Electra saw her good fortune. She was enchanted with the freedom
which had fallen upon her in time for her to accept a more desirable
bondage. She lifted her head and looked at him in a proud happiness.

"No," she said, "I do not care for him. I never did. I see it now. I am
free."

"Are you glad to be free?"

MacLeod had a way of asking women persuasive questions. Though they were
interrogative, they had the force of suggestion, of the clinching
protest he might make in answer, when confession came. And they only
noted, long after, that he never did answer. Electra did not know that
form of communion, and it struck her as something holy. She looked him
in the eyes, with a clear and beautiful gaze.

"Yes," she said, "I am very glad. Now I am free to devote myself to the
most wonderful things, to worship them if I like."

There was passionate sincerity in her tone. It would have made a smaller
thing of her vow if she could have said she was free to worship him.

"I am going to tell you something. You must not repeat it."

"I never will."

"I am going back to France."

"You have been summoned!"

He smiled at her and shook his head slightly, as if the manner of it
were the only thing he could deny. She followed with another question,
rather faintly, for his news left her shivering.

"To France, you said?"

"That is all I can sa