nowing a woman's real love. We are apt to
turn from the nauseating innocuousness of the truly good and to thank God
for a modicum of interesting sin."

"I'm sorry to hear this philosophy from you, cousin, for it smacks of
bitterness, and I regret to learn that you have not thrown off your love
for Hamilton, though I have long suspected the truth."

"Yes, yes, Ned, the truth, the truth! I, too, am sorry. But it can't
be helped, and I want to tell you all about it," she said, clasping my
arm. "I--I am almost mad about him! The king and the courtiers are
harmless. It may be that my love exalts Master Hamilton and debases
others by comparison, but it is as I say with me, and I fear it will ever
be. He may be bad, but he is strong, brave, and honest. He is a man--all
man--and I tell you, Baron Ned, a woman doesn't look much further when
she goes to give her love."

My eyes were opening rapidly to qualities in my cousin that I had never
suspected, so after a moment I asked in alarm:--

"But surely you would not marry Hamilton?"

"No, I cannot marry him because of father," she answered, shaking her
head dolefully. "I must marry a rich man. More than a month ago the Duke
of Tyrconnel asked me to be his wife, as you know. He seems to know that
he must buy me if he would have me, so he tells me that he has forty
thousand pounds a year, and offers to settle ten thousand a year on me if
I will marry him. I asked for a fortnight in which to consider his offer,
and when the time was up I begged for another, which he granted, kindly
saying that he did not want me to answer till I was sure of myself, even
though the delay cost him a year's happiness. The time is almost up, and
I must ask another extension; but I shall eventually take him, and then
God pity me, for I know I shall die."

"No, no, Frances," I returned, trying to conceal my delight. "You will be
happy with Dick Talbot if you will thrust the other man out of your
heart."

"Thrust the other man out of my heart!" she exclaimed. "It was never done
by a woman. She may be cured, I suppose, by time and conditions, but she
can't cure herself. A woman's heart is like a telescope. It magnifies the
man of her choice, but reverses and becomes a diminishing glass for all
others. But I shall accept Tyrconnel just as soon as I grow used to the
thought of living with him. Soon you will have accomplished your purpose
in bringing me to court."

"My purpose?" I asked in surprise. "W