icy water poured upon a fevered body, the idea chilled
her and woke her to reality.

Did she love her father? She had loved him--yes, until she crossed his
will. She loved him still, when she could be so horror-struck at the
thought of incurring his lasting anger. Could she bear it? Could she
find in her lover all that she must renounce of a father's care and a
father's affection,--stern affection, that savoured of the
despot,--but could she hurt him so?

The image of her father seemed to take another shape, and gradually to
assume the form and features of the one man of the world whom she
hated, converting itself little by little into Benoni. She hid her
face in her hands and terror staunched the tears that had flown afresh
at the thought of orphanhood.

A knock at the door. She hastily concealed the crumpled letter.

"Come in!" she answered, boldly; and her father, moving mechanically,
with his stick in his hand, entered the room. He came as he had
dismounted from his horse, in his riding boots, and his broad felt hat
caught by the same fingers that held the stick.

"You wished to see me, Hedwig," he said, coldly, depositing his hat
upon the table. Then, when he had slowly sat himself down in an
arm-chair, he added, "Here I am." Hedwig had risen respectfully, and
stood before him in the twilight. "What do you wish to say?" he asked
in German. "You do not often honour your father by requesting his
society."

Hedwig stood one moment in silence. Her first impulse was to throw
herself at his feet and implore him to let her marry Nino. The thought
swept away for the time the remembrance of Benoni and of what she had
to tell. But a second sufficed to give her the mastery of her tongue
and memory, which women seldom lose completely, even at the most
desperate moments.

"I desired to tell you," she said, "that Baron Benoni took advantage
of your absence to-day to insult me beyond my endurance." She looked
boldly into her father's eyes as she spoke.

"Ah!" said he, with great coolness. "Will you be good enough to light
one of those candles on the table, and to close the window?"

Hedwig obeyed in silence, and once more planted herself before him,
her slim figure looking ghostly between the fading light of the
departing day and the yellow flame of the candle.

"You need not assume this theatrical air," said Lira, calmly. "I
presume you mean that Baron Benoni asked you to marry him?"

"Yes, that is one thing, and i