hite cheek was now another face, with peach-blow
cheek and the ruddy tresses--and the peach-blow cheek and ruddy tresses
prevailed. And so he had responded, sincere enough, in tribute to her
loveliness and in memory of what had been.

And Madeline Spencer detected the absent note; but she ignored it. She
would go through with it--make her bid:

"Almost you say that as though you meant it!" she smiled, and forced his
hand. Now he must either deny or affirm.

"I do mean it," he replied. It was all in the game, and he was obligated
to be truthful only to Mrs. Clephane.

She looked at him contemplatively, trying to read behind his words.

"What is it, Madeline?" he asked.

"I wonder!" she said speculatively.

"Can't I answer?"

"Yes, you can answer--"

"Then ask me," he invited, seeking to get something that would afford
him an inkling of her aim. Assuredly she had him guessing.

For a moment she looked him straight in the eyes; then suddenly her
glance wavered, a faint flush crept from neck to cheek, and she smiled
almost bashfully.

"Guy," said she, "I ask you to forget our profession if you can, and
take what I am about to say as free from guile or expediency--and of
supreme importance to me. I'm just a simple woman now, with a woman's
desires and affection and hopes. I've come to the parting of the ways:
on one side lie power, excitement, loneliness; on the other,
contentment, peace, companionship. I'll choose the latter, if you're
willing. You have but to say the word and I'll give up everything,
confess what I'm here for, what I've done, and what is arranged for in
the future."

"Upon what condition, Madeline?" he smiled, more puzzled than ever. He
was almost ready to believe she meant it.

She caught her breath, hesitated, blushed furiously--and answered
softly:

"Upon the condition that you marry me."

For the instant Harleston was too amazed for words; and, despite all his
training in dissimulation, his surprise was evidenced in his face. Small
wonder he had been unable to make out the play--it was not a play; she
meant it. She was ready to throw her mission overboard to attain her
personal end.

"Will you marry me, old enemy?" she whispered, putting out her hand to
him and smiting him with a ravishing smile--a smile such as she had had
for but one other man. It had been utterly lost on that other, but it
had almost won with Harleston; and it might have won now with him but
for another's smile