as not so thoroughly self-possessed. Any sign of timidity in her would
have given him an increase of hardihood. But her eyes were coldly
brilliant, and glanced him over without the smallest embarrassment. He
took refuge in his never-failing remedy, his benevolent smile--a smile
that covered a multitude of hypocrisies.

"You ask a plain question, Froeken," he said sweetly, "and I should be
loth not to give you a plain answer. That way-that glorious way of
salvation for you is--through _me_!"

And his countenance shone with smug self-satisfaction as he spoke, and
he repeated softly, "Yes, yes; that way is through me!"

She moved with a slight gesture of impatience. "It is a pity to talk any
more," she said rather wearily. "It is all no use! Why do you wish to
change me in my religion? I do not wish to change _you_. I do not see
why we should speak of such things at all."

"Of course!" replied Mr. Dyceworthy blandly. "Of course you do not see.
And why? Because you are blind." Here he drew a little nearer to her,
and looked covetously at the curve of her full, firm waist.

"Oh, why!" he resumed in a sort of rapture--"why should we say it is a
pity to talk any more? Why should we say it is all no use? It _is_ of
use,--it is noble, it is edifying to converse of the Lord's good
pleasure! And what is His good pleasure at this moment? To unite two
souls in His service! Yea, He hath turned my desire towards you, Froeken
Thelma,--even as Jacob's desire was towards Rachel! Let me see this
hand." He made a furtive grab at the white taper fingers that played
listlessly with the jessamine leaves on the porch, but the girl
dexterously withdrew them from his clutch and moved a little further
back, her face flushing proudly. "Oh, will it not come to me? Cruel
hand!" and he rolled his little eyes with an absurdly sentimental air of
reproach. "It is shy--it will not clasp the hand of its protector! Do
not be afraid, Froeken! . . . I, Charles Dyceworthy, am not the man to
trifle with your young affections! Let them rest where they have flown!
I accept them! Yea! . . . in spite of wrath and error and moral
destitution,--my spirit inclineth towards you,--in the language of
carnal men, I love you! More than this, I am willing to take you as my
lawful wife--"

He broke off abruptly, somewhat startled at the bitter scorn of the
flashing eyes that, like two quivering stars, were blazing upon him. Her
voice, clear as a bell ringing in frosty