accompany me this evening."

"And you ask me?" His voice held blank amazement.

"Yes. Will you do it?"

"Do you remember what I told you the last time we met? That I would
never play for you again?"

Magda drew her breath slowly. It was hurting her pride far more than
Gillian knew or could imagine to ask a favour of this man. And he wasn't
going to make it easy for her, either--that was evident. But she must
ask it, nevertheless. For Gillian's sake; for the sake of poor little
Coppertop fighting for breath and with no "mummie" at hand to help and
comfort him; and for the sake of Lady Arabella, too. After promising to
dance for her she couldn't let her godmother down by crying off at the
last moment, when all the world and his wife had come crowding to her
house on the strength of that promise.

So she bent her head in response to Davilof's contemptuous question.

"Yes, I remember," she said quietly.

"And you still ask me to play for you?"

"I still ask you."

Davilof laughed.

"You amaze me! And supposing I reply by saying I refuse?"

"But you won't," dared Magda.

Davilof's eyes held something of cruelty in their hazel depths as he
answered quietly:

"On the contrary--I do refuse."

Her hand went up to her throat. It was going to be more difficult than
she had anticipated!

"There is no one else who can play for me as you do," she suggested.

"No," fiercely. "Because no one loves you as I do."

"What is the use of saying you love me when you won't do the one
little thing I ask?" she retorted. "It is not often that I ask favours.
And--and no one has ever refused me a request before."

Davilof could hear the note of proud resentment in her voice, and he
realised to the full that, in view of all that had passed between them
in the Mirror Room, it must have been a difficult matter for a woman of
Magda's temperament to bring herself to ask his help.

But he had no intention of sparing her. None but himself knew how
bitterly she had hurt him, how cruelly she had stung his pride, when she
had flung him that contemptuous command: "I shall want you to-morrow,
Davilof!--same time." He had unveiled his very soul before her--and in
return she had tossed him an order as though he were a lackey who had
taken a liberty. All his pain and brooding resentment came boiling up to
the surface.

"If I meant anything to you," he said slowly, "if you had even looked
upon me as a friend, you could have asked what yo