ot go out alone, at night.'

'You have no idea how great a delight it is for me to go about London at
night. Then I am quite free--of politicians, interviewers, gossiping
people, society ladies, and all the rest. I am master of myself, and I
am myself again.'

'Still, if your friends ask you----'

'Some of my friends have asked me.'

'And you did not comply?'

'No; I did not think there was any necessity for complying.'

'But if _I_ were to ask you?' She laid her hand gently, lightly,
timidly, on his.

'Ah, well, if _you_ were to ask me, that would be quite a different
thing.'

'Then I do ask you,' she exclaimed, almost joyously.

He smiled a bright, half-sad smile upon the kindly, eager girl.

'Well, I promise not to go out alone at night in London until you
release me from my vow. It is not much to do this to please you, Miss
Langley--you have been so kind to me. I am really glad to have it in my
power to do anything to please you.'

'You have pleased me much, yet I feel penitent too.'

'Penitent for what?'

'For having deprived you of these lonely midnight walks which you seem
to love so much.'

'I shall love still more the thought of giving anything up to please
you.'

'Thank you,' she said gravely--and that was all she said. She began to
be afraid that she had shown her hand too much. She began to wonder what
he was thinking of her--whether he thought her too free spoken--too
forward--whether he had any suspicion of her feelings towards him. His
manner, too, had always been friendly, gentle, tender even; but it was
the manner of a man who apparently considered all suspicion of
love-making to be wholly out of the question. This very fact had made
her incautious, she thought. If any serious personal danger ever should
threaten him, how should she be able to keep her real feelings a secret
from him? Were they, she asked herself in pain and with flushing face, a
secret even now? After to-day could he fail to know--could he at all
events fail to guess?

Did the Dictator know--did he guess--that the girl was in love with him?

The Dictator did not know and did not guess. The frankness of her
manners had completely led him astray. The way in which she rendered him
open homage deceived him wholly as to her feelings. He knew that she
liked his companionship--of that he could have no doubt--he knew that
she was by nature a hero-worshipper and that he was just now her hero.
But he never for a moment ima