ted. But I didn't know how long he had
stopped in your house, and, besides--"

"You would have dared to do that!" I broke in, the blood, angry blood,
stinging my cheeks more hotly than it stung hers.

"It wasn't a question of daring," she answered. "I thought of him more
than of you; but I thought of you, too. I knew that if I were in your
place, no matter how much harm I might do to myself, I would confess
that he had been in my house."

"There are reasons why I can't tell that he was there," I said, trying
to awe her by speaking coldly and proudly. "His visit was entirely on
business. But Mr. Dundas understands why I must keep silence, and he
approves. You know he has remained silent himself."

"For your sake, because he is a gentleman--brave and chivalrous. Would
you take advantage of that?"

"You take advantage of me," I flung back at the girl, looking her up and
down. "You pretend that you came from Mr. Dundas with a pressing message
for me. Do you want me to believe _this_ his message? I think too well
of him."

"I don't want you to believe that," she answered. "I haven't come to the
message yet. I have earned a right to speak to you first, on my own
account."

"In twelve minutes I must be on the stage," I said.

"The stage!" she echoed. "You can go on acting just the same, though he
is in prison--for you!"

"I must go on acting. If I didn't, I should do him more harm than good."

"I won't keep you beyond your time. But I beg that you _will_ do him
good. If you care for him at all, you must want to save him."

"If I care for him?" I repeated, in surprise. "You think--oh, but I
understand now. You are the girl he spoke of."

She blushed deeply, and then grew pale.

"I did not think he would speak of me," she said. "I wish he hadn't.
But, if you know everything, the little there is to know, you must see
that you have nothing to fear from any rivalry of mine, Mademoiselle de
Renzie."

"Why," I exclaimed, "you speak as if you thought Ivor Dundas my lover."

"I don't know what you are to each other," she faltered, all her
coolness deserting her. "That isn't my affair--"

"But I say it is. You shall not make such a mistake. Mr. Dundas cares
nothing for me, except as a friend. He never did, though we flirted a
little a year ago, to amuse ourselves. Now, I am engaged to marry a man
whom I worship. I would gladly die for him. Ivor Dundas knows that, and
is glad. But the other man is jealous. He wouldn't