at
this moment increased a thousandfold. He leaned forward and laid his
head against her breast.

In the love of all women there is a strong quality of the maternal. Mary
bent over the blond head and pressed her lips to his hair. When Antony
lifted his face there were tears in his eyes. He cried--

"Heaven bless you, darling! You don't know how high I will take you, how
far I will carry us both. The world shall talk of us! Mary--Mary!"

She smoothed his forehead. She knew there would never be another moment
in her life like this one.

He said, "I will take you to the studio, of course. I haven't told you
that in June I shall have fifty thousand francs, and from then on I will
be succeeding so fast that we will forget we were ever poor." He saw her
faintly smile, and said sharply, "I suppose you spend fifty thousand
francs now on your clothes!"

She said frankly, "And more; but that makes no difference," and
ventured, "You don't seem to think, Tony, what a pleasure it would be to
me to do for you." She paused at his exclamation. "Oh, of course, I
understand your pride," and asked, "What shall I do with my fortune,
Tony?"

"This money on which you are living," he said gravely, "that you have
accepted from a man you never loved, give it all to the poor. Keep the
commandment for once, and we will see what the treasures of heaven are
like."

He thought she clung to him desperately, and there was an ardour in the
return of her caress that made him say--

"Mary, don't answer me to-day, please; I want you to think it calmly
over. Just now you have shown me what I wanted to see."

She asked, "What?"

"That you love me."

She said, "Yes, I do love you. Will you believe it always?"

Bending over her he said passionately, "I shall believe it when I have
your answer, and you are going to make me divinely happy."

She echoed the word softly, "Happy!" and her lips trembled. Across the
ante-chamber came the sound of voices. Their retreat was about to be
invaded by the people of the world who never very long left Mary
Faversham alone.

"Oh!" she cried, "I cannot see any one. Why did they let any one in?"
And, lifting her face to him, she said in a low tone, "Tony, kiss me
again."

Antony, indifferent as to who might come and who might not, caught her
to him and held her for a second, then crossed the room to the curtained
door and went down the terrace steps and across the garden.

By the big wall he turned and lo