say it. Lucia! Lucia! Lucia!"

"Go on, then, since I cannot stop you."

"I said that I have found such a woman and I have. Lucia, I love you,
because I cannot help myself, just as you cannot help my calling you
Lucia. And, Lucia, it is a love that worships, too. There is nothing bad
in it. I would put myself at your feet. You shall be a queen to me and
to all the rest of the world, for I have much to offer you besides my
poor self. However the war may end, I shall be rich, very rich, and we
shall have a great career. Let it be here if you will, or in the North,
or in Europe. You have only to say."

There was then a feeling for him not all hate in the soul of Lucia
Catherwood. If he loved her, that was a cloak for many sins, and she
could not doubt that he did, because the man hitherto so calm and the
master of himself was transformed. His words were spoken with all the
fire and heat of a lover, his eyes were alight, and his figure took on a
certain dignity and nobility. Lucia Catherwood, looking at him, said to
herself in unspoken words: "Here is a great man and he loves me." Her
heart was cold, but a ray of tenderness came from it nevertheless.

The Secretary paused and in his agitation leaned his arm upon the
mantel. Again his eyes dwelt upon her noble curves, her sumptuous
figure, and the soul that shone from her eyes. Never before had he felt
so utter a sense of powerlessness. Hitherto to desire a thing was with
him merely the preliminary to getting it. Even when Helen Harley turned
away from him, he believed that by incessant pursuit he could yet win
her. There he took repulses lightly, but here it was the woman alone who
decreed, and whatever she might say no act or power of his could change
it. He stood before her a suppliant.

"You have honoured me, Mr. Sefton, with this declaration of your love,"
she said, and her tones sounded to him as cold and level as ever, "but I
cannot--cannot return it."

"Neither now nor ever? You may change!"

"I cannot change, Mr. Sefton." She spoke a little sadly--out of pity for
him--and shook her head.

"You think that my loyalty is due to Helen Harley, but I do not love
her! I cannot!"

"No, it is not that," she said. "Helen Harley may not love you; I do not
think she does. But I am quite sure of myself. I know that I can never
love you."

"You may not now," he said hotly, "but you can be wooed and you can be
won. I could not expect you to love me at once--I am not so