kissing his hands.

He drew her up to his breast and held her there.

"You are willing, Polixena?" he said.

"No, no!" She broke from him with outstretched hands. "I am not
willing. You mistake me. I must marry the Marquess, I tell you!"

"On my money?" he taunted her; and her burning blush rebuked him.

"Yes, on your money," she said sadly.

"Why? Because, much as you hate him, you hate me still more?"

She was silent.

"If you hate me, why do you sacrifice yourself for me?" he persisted.

"You torture me! And I tell you the hour is past."

"Let it pass. I'll not accept your sacrifice. I will not lift a finger
to help another man to marry you."

"Oh, madman, madman!" she murmured.

Tony, with crossed arms, faced her squarely, and she leaned against the
wall a few feet off from him. Her breast throbbed under its lace and
falbalas, and her eyes swam with terror and entreaty.

"Polixena, I love you!" he cried.

A blush swept over her throat and bosom, bathing her in light to the
verge of her troubled brows.

"I love you! I love you!" he repeated.

And now she was on his breast again, and all their youth was in their
lips. But her embrace was as fleeting as a bird's poise and before he
knew it he clasped empty air, and half the room was between them.

She was holding up a little coral charm and laughing. "I took it from
your fob," she said. "It is of no value, is it? And I shall not get any
of the money, you know."

She continued to laugh strangely, and the rouge burned like fire in her
ashen face.

"What are you talking of?" he said.

"They never give me anything but the clothes I wear. And I shall never
see you again, Anthony!" She gave him a dreadful look. "Oh, my poor
boy, my poor love--'_I love you, I love you, Polixena!_'"

He thought she had turned light-headed, and advanced to her with
soothing words; but she held him quietly at arm's length, and as he
gazed he read the truth in her face.

He fell back from her, and a sob broke from him as he bowed his head on
his hands.

"Only, for God's sake, have the money ready, or there may be foul play
here," she said.

As she spoke there was a great tramping of steps outside and a burst of
voices on the threshold.

"It is all a lie," she gasped out, "about my marriage, and the
Marquess, and the Ambassador, and the Senator--but not, oh, not about
your danger in this place--or about my love," she breathed to him. And
as the key rattled in the