ad been more sinned against than sinning, that she had been young and
alone at the mercy of an evil man, and that her will had not consented.

"No, no! It is impossible!" she cried aloud, and, startled by the sound
of her voice, the Baron came into the room.

"My dear child!" he said, and he picked her up from the floor. "I shall
never be able to forgive myself if you take things like this. Every tear
you shed will burn my flesh like fire. Come now, dry these beautiful
eyes and be calm."

She did not listen to him, but leaning on the stove and fingering with
one hand the frame of her father's picture which hung above it, she
said:

"I see now that happiness was not for me. There must be some punishment
for every sin, however little one has been guilty of it, and perhaps
this is God's way of asking for an expiation. It is very, very hard ...
it seems more than I deserve ... and heavier than I can bear ... but
there is no help for it."

The tears she brushed from her eyes seemed to be gathering in her
throat.

"The bitterest part of it is that I must make others suffer for it also.
He must suffer who has loved and trusted me. His love for me, my love
for him, this has been dragging him down since the first day I knew him.
Perhaps he is in prison by this time."

Sobs interrupted her for a moment, and in a caressing tone the Baron
tried to comfort her. It was natural that she should feel troubled, very
natural and very womanly. But time was the great remedy for human ills.
It would heal everything.

"Roma, you have wounded and humiliated and insulted me, but you are the
only woman in the world I would give one straw to have. I will make you
the wife of the Dictator of Italy, and when all these troubles are over
and you are great, and have forgotten what has taken place...."

"I can never forget and I don't want to be great. I only want to be
good. Leave me!"

"You _are_ good. You have always been good. What happened was my fault
alone, and you have nothing to reproach yourself with. I found you
growing up to be a great woman, and passing out of my legal control,
while I was bound down to a poor, helpless, living corpse. Some day you
would meet a younger, freer man, and you would be lost to me for good.
Wasn't it human to try to hold you to me until the time came when I
could claim you altogether? And if meanwhile this man has
interposed...."

He pointed to the bust on the pedestal. She looked up at it, and the