effect of an unfinished sentence, but Dane had
no difficulty in divining her thoughts. The sting of jealousy added
force to the impulses which swept him forward to her side. This time he
ignored her protests, seizing her hands and drawing her close, until her
face touched his own.

"We're talking nonsense, we're talking nonsense, little girl! What do
we care what people say? What does it matter what the whole world
chooses to believe? You belong to me, and I'm not going to give you up!
You've had your own way; now it's my turn. You are not going to have a
chance of succeeding at anything, except at being my wife! Marry me,
dear girl, marry me quickly! I need you badly."

Teresa did not stir. Seen close at hand, her face looked fair, and
sweet, and young, but pitifully sad. In the blue eyes there was the
same sadness, and the sound of his eager words seemed but to deepen the
pain. She had an air of waiting with all her being for the sound of
something that had not come. Dane looked into her eyes, and understood.
Still with his arms around her he pressed her into a chair, and knelt
on the floor at her feet.

"Teresa, answer! Have I always told you the truth?"

She gave a startled look, but answered unhesitatingly "Yes!"

"You can trust me to say just what is in my heart?"

She nodded slightly, motionless in his grasp.

"Teresa, darling," said Dane softly, "I love you truly. I love you with
a full heart. It isn't remorse, and it isn't pity, and it isn't
friendship... it's love, Teresa! Look in my eyes, and see if I am
speaking the truth?"

But she had no need to look; the music of love was in his voice, and,
God knew, she was hungry to be convinced. A year's suffering had
carried her beyond the point of finding content in mere possession, but
the knowledge of Dane's love was a salve which healed all wounds. The
"something fine" in Teresa's nature showed itself at this moment in a
generosity of reticence infinitely endearing to the masculine mind.
Dane waited shrinkingly to hear Cassandra's name, but he waited in vain.
Teresa asked no questions, demanded no vows,--all that was past, it was
buried for ever out of mind, at the moment when for the second time she
promised herself to Dane Peignton and felt his kiss of betrothal on her
lips.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

TERESA'S MARRIAGE.

Teresa's marriage was arranged for the following August, a month which
Mrs Mallison appeared to believe was cle