ainly
been a desperate remedy--one to which she would never have given her
consent could she for a single instant have suspected that it had been
dictated by anything more than a friendly desire for her welfare.

Surely, argued her practical mind, he could never have been so foolish
as to let himself care deeply for one who so obviously had only the most
casual regard for him! She knew women did these silly things, but surely
not men--and hard-headed men like Max!

Besides, what could he possibly see in her? Was it not Violet upon whom
his attention was constantly focussed? And small wonder, his own
repudiation of sentiment notwithstanding! Did not all men look at her
with dazzled eyes? Even Nick paid her that much homage, though Olga was
privately a little doubtful as to whether he altogether liked her
brilliant friend.

No, she had never for an instant seriously contemplated this possibility
which Nick had whispered into her ear. She wondered what had made him do
it? Had he meant to put her on her guard. Or--staggering thought!--had
he thought to wake her heart to some response? Was he taking Max's part?
Did he want her to be kind to him?

She pictured Max's wrath, sardonically expressed, should he ever become
acquainted with that move of Nick's. She fancied he did not much like
Nick and that suspicion of itself was quite sufficient to present him in
an unfavourable light to her half-involuntary criticism. How could she
ever possibly begin to care for a man who did not admire her hero? Oh,
why had she ever placed herself under an obligation to him, ever
consented to the forging of that bond between them, elastic though it
might be?

Of course it could be severed. He had said so. And severed it should be
at once. But why had she ever suffered it? It weighed upon her
intolerably now that she realized in what foundry its links had been
cast. Even her enemy's impertinences would be easier to bear--now that
she knew.

Again, as morning broke, she told herself that this thing was an
impossibility after all, that Nick had been misled, or had spoken in
jest. It seemed the only sane conclusion by the practical light of day,
and, reassured, at last she slipped into untroubled slumber. Yes, she
was sure Max was much too shrewd to let himself be caught by a girl who
did not even want him. He would never waste his valuable time over such
as she.

Yet while she slept, a curious memory came to her--a memory that was
half a