to each other," she said, in a cold, hard
tone, "neither you nor I came here for that."

"Scarcely, I believe," and he laughed in a reckless way, which appeared
natural to him.

Elizabeth Mellen shuddered in every limb at that repulsive sound; an
absolute spasm of pain contracted her features, she gave no other sign
of emotion, but clenched her hands hard together, forcing herself to be
calm.

"I only received your letter this morning," he continued, watching her
every movement carefully, while standing there with his back against a
tree with apparent unconcern; "I should have been earlier, had it been
possible."

She made an impatient gesture.

"No more of that," she exclaimed, "enough!"

He looked at her with the same careless smile that lighted up his
somewhat worn face into an expression of absolute youthfulness. He was
still a splendidly handsome man; a type of rare beauty which could not
have failed to attract general observation wherever he appeared.

He was tall; the shoulders and limbs might have served as a model for a
sculptor; the neck was white almost as a woman's; the magnificent head
set with perfect grace upon it, and was carried with a haughty air that
was absolutely noble. He might have been thirty-eight, perhaps even
older than that, but he was one of those men concerning whose age even a
physiognomist would be puzzled to decide.

The face was almost faultless in its contour; the mouth, shaded by a
long silken moustache, which relieved his paleness admirably, and lent
new splendor to his eyes, which possessed a strange magnetic power that
had worked ill in more than one unfortunate destiny.

It was a face trained to concealment, and yet so carefully tutored that
at the first glance one only thought what an open, pleasant expression
it had. Even after long intercourse and a thorough knowledge of the
man's character, that face would have puzzled the most skillful
observer.

Elizabeth Mellen was looking at him in a strange silence; whatever might
have been in the past there was no spell now in those glorious eyes
which could dazzle her soul into forgetfulness; shade after shade of
repressed emotion passed over her features as she gazed, leaving them at
last white and fixed as marble.

"You are pale," he said, "so changed."

She started as if he had struck her.

"I did not come here to talk of my appearance," she said.

"True," he replied, "very true; but I cannot help wondering. I think