they make a marriage? You say such strange things!"

He laughed again, thoroughly amused.

"Yes, don't I!" he rejoined--"But not half such strange things as I
could say if I were so inclined! I'm a queer fellow!"

He touched her hair gently, putting back a stray curl that had fallen
across her forehead.

"Now, dear," he continued, "It's time you went. You'll be wanted at the
Plaza--and they mustn't think I'm keeping you up here, making love to
you!"

She tossed her head back, and her eyes flashed almost angrily.

"There's no danger of that!" she said, with a little suppressed tremor
in her throat like the sob of a nightingale at the close of its song.

"Isn't there?" and putting his arm round her, he drew her close to
himself and looked full in her eyes--"Manella--there WAS!--a moment
ago!"

She remained still and passive in his arms--hardly daring to breathe,
so rapt was she in a sudden ecstasy, but he could feel the wild beating
of her heart against his own.

"A moment ago!" he repeated, in a half whisper. "A moment ago I could
have made such desperate love to you as would have astonished
myself!--and YOU! And I should have regretted it ever afterwards--and
so would you!"

The struggling emotion in her found utterance.

"No, no--not I!" she said, in quick little passionate murmurs--"I could
not regret it!--If you loved me for an hour it would be the joy of my
life-time!--You might leave me,--you might forget!--but that would not
take away my pride and gladness! You might kill me--I would die gladly
if it saved YOUR life!--ah, you do not understand love--not the love of
Manella!"

And she lifted her face to his--a face so lovely, so young, so warm
with her soul's inward rapture that its glowing beauty might have made
a lover of an anchorite. But with Roger Seaton the impulses of passion
were brief--the momentary flame had gone out in vapour, and the spirit
of the anchorite prevailed. He looked at the dewy red lips, delicately
parted like rose petals--but he did not kiss them, and the clasp of his
arms round her gradually relaxed.

"Hush, hush Manella!" he said, with a mild kindness, which in her
overwrought state was more distracting than angry words would have
been--"Hush! You talk foolishness--beautiful foolishness--all women do
when they set their fancies on men. It is nature, of course,--YOU think
it is love, but, my dear girl, there is no such thing as love!
There!--now you are cross!" for she dre