ile his face grew
unnaturally pale.

"Oh, Paul--I cannot tell you--you frighten me so," murmured Hermione in
broken tones. "Oh, Paul! Forgive me--forgive me!"

At that moment Gregorios Balsamides passed before their corner, a lady
in a red hood and a red mask leaning on his arm.

"Hush!" exclaimed Paul, under his breath, as the couple came near them.
But Gregorios only nodded familiarly to Paul, stared a moment at his
pale face, glanced at the black domino, and went on with his partner. "I
do not want to frighten you, dearest," continued Paul, when no one could
hear them. "And what have I to forgive? Do not be afraid, and tell me
what all this means."

"I must," answered Hermione, her strength returning suddenly. "I must,
or I should despise myself. You must not go to my father, Paul--because
I--I am not sure of myself."

She trembled visibly under her domino, as she spoke the last words
almost in a whisper, hesitating and yet forcing herself to tell the
truth. Paul glanced uneasily at the black drapery which veiled all her
head and figure, and with one hand he grasped the carved end of the
sofa, so that it cracked under the pressure. For some seconds there was
an awful silence, broken only by low sounds which told that Hermione was
crying.

"You mean--that you do not love me," said Paul at last, very slowly,
steadying his voice on every syllable.

The young girl shook her head, and tried to speak. But the words would
not come. Meanwhile the strong man's anger was slowly rising, very
slowly but very surely, so that Hermione felt it coming, as a belated
traveler on the sands sees the tide creeping nearer to the black cliff.

"Hermione," he said, very sternly, "if you mean that you are no longer
willing to marry me, say so plainly. I will forgive you if I can,
because I love you. But please do not trifle with me. I can bear the
worst, but I cannot bear waiting."

"Do not talk like that, Paul!" cried his cousin in an agonized voice,
but recovering her power of speech before the pent-up anger he seemed to
be controlling. "Let us wait, Paul; let us wait and be sure. I cannot
marry you unless I am sure that I love you as I ought to love you. I do
love you, but I feel that I could love you so much more--as--as I should
like to love my--the man I marry. Have patience,--please have patience
for a little while."

Paul's white lips opened and shut mechanically as he answered her.

"I am very patient. I have been pati