will be made. And the principle is the same. You can't be a
fortune-hunter, like many agreeable, titled countrymen of yours whom I
have met."

"If a man began by seeking out Miss Beverly as a fortune-hunter, he would
end by being her lover. She is the most beautiful girl on earth, and--the
most maddening. I think I shall go mad if I am to lose her."

"How you Italians can love--and hate!"

"Yes, we can hate also, it is true. There is no half-way with us. Lady
Gardiner, I used to think that you disliked me; but to-day you are
different. I was as desperately in need of help as a drowning man, and I
caught at the new look of kindness in your eyes, as such a man catches at
a floating spar."

"Perhaps it was the appeal in your eyes that called out the answer in
mine," said Kate, half believing that she told the truth; for there was a
certain magnetic power in the man's passion, which was, at least,
sincere. "What help can I give you?"

"First of all, you can answer a few questions. What have I done to change
Miss Beverly so completely?"

"Frankly, I don't know. There's something odd going on--something which
interests her so much that she can think of nothing else."

"The change began on the day of--our ride. Our last ride! The last of
everything worth having, it has been for me. She was angry because I was
unwilling to go into--that valley. But afterward, when she learned how
intimately I had been associated with the people at the chateau there,
how could she blame me? I suppose she _did_ learn the story?"

"She learned something of it, I know, the night after we rode up the
valley. You remember there was a dance? I had left my fan in our
sitting-room, and ran up to find it. There was no light in the room, and
Virginia and Sir Roger were on the balcony. Of course, I didn't mean to
listen, but I couldn't find the fan at first, and I didn't like to
startle them by suddenly switching on the light, so I--er--I overheard a
little of the conversation. Sir Roger was telling her the story of that
unfortunate Maxime Dalahaide--why, Marchese, how you must have loved him!
The very mention of his name turns you pale."

"We were like brothers," said Loria in a low voice. "But go on. Did Sir
Roger Broom mention me in connection with the story?"

"Yes."

"The scoundrel! That explains all, then. This is your honourable English
gentleman, who traduces a man behind his back, to ruin him with the girl
they both love!"

"You do