sbad that I would try to free myself only that I read in the
paper that you were at Ostende--with Daisy Van der Horn. That
exasperated me--even though I thought I was absolutely indifferent to
you after five years. I had never seen your name in the paper before, it
was the first indication I had had that you had come home--and the whole
thing wounded my pride. I felt that I must ask for my freedom from you
before you possibly could ask for yours from me. So I told Henry that
very night that I had made up my mind."

"Oh! you dear little goose," Michael interrupted. "Not one of those
ladies mattered to me more than the other--they were merely to pass the
time of day, of no importance whatever."

"I dare say--but I am telling you my story, Michael--Well, Henry was so
wonderful, so good--and it got so that he seemed to mean everything
fine, he drew me out of myself and your shadow grew to mean less and
less to me and I believed that I had forgotten you quite--except for the
irritation I felt about Daisy--and then by that extraordinary turn of
fate, Henry himself brought you here, and I did not even know the name
of the friend who was coming with him; he had not told me in the hurried
postscript of his letter saying he was bringing some one--I saw you both
arrive from the lodge, and when I heard the tones of your voice--Ah!
well, you can imagine what it meant!"

"No, I want to know, little darling--what did it mean?" and Michael
looked into her eyes with fond command.

"It made my heart beat and my knees tremble and a strange thrill came
over me--I ought to have known then that to feel like that did not mean
indifference--oughtn't I?"

"I expect so--but what a moment it was when we did meet, you must come
to that!"

"Arrogant, darling creature you are, Michael! You love to make me
recount all these things," and Sabine looked so sweetly mutinous that he
could not remain tranquilly listening for the moment, but had to make
passionate love to her--whispering every sort of endearment into her
little ear--though presently she continued the recital of her story
again:

"I stood there in the lodge after the shock of seeing you had passed,
and I began to burn with every sort of resentment against you--I had had
all the suffering and you had gone free--and I just felt I wanted to
punish you by pretending not to know you! Think of it! How small--and
yet there underneath I felt your old horribly powerful charm!"

"Oh, you did