;
light tremors ran along her limbs, the colour came and went upon her
neck and brow, and a dreamy look had gathered in her tender eyes.
Beneath them the sea made its gentle music, and above the wind was
whispering to the trees. Presently his hand dropped, and he stood
fascinated.

"I cannot. What makes you look like that? You are bewitching me."

Next moment he heard a sigh, the next Mildred's sweet lips were upon
his own, and she was in his arms. She lay there still, quite still,
but even as she lay there rose, as it were, in the midst of the
glamour and confusion of his mind, that made him see all things
distraught, and seemed to blot out every principle of right and
honour, another and far different scene. For, as in a vision, he saw a
dim English landscape and a grey ruin, and himself within its shadows
with a nobler woman in his arms, "Dethrone me," said a remembered
voice, "desert me, and I will still thank you for this hour of
imperial happiness." The glamour was gone, the confusion made
straight, and clear above him shone the light of duty.

"Mildred, dear Mildred, this cannot be. Sit down. I want to speak to
you."

She turned quite white, and sank from his arms without a word.

"Mildred, you know that I am engaged."

The lips moved, but no sound issued from them. Again she tried.

"I know."

"Then why do you tempt me? I am only a man, and weak as water in your
presence. Do not make me dishonourable to myself and her."

"I love you as well as she. There--take the shameful truth."

"Yes, but--forgive me if I pain you, for I must, I must. I love
_her_."

The beautiful face hid itself in the ungloved hands. No answer came,
only the great diamond sparkled and blazed in the soft light like a
hard and cruel eye.

"Do not, Mildred, for pity's sake, involve us all in shame and ruin,
but let us part now. If I could have foreseen how this would end! But
I have been a blind and selfish fool. I have been to blame."

She was quite calm now, and spoke in her usual singularly clear voice.

"Arthur dear, I do not blame you. Loving _her_, how was it likely that
you should think of love from _me_? I only blame myself. I have loved
you, God help me, ever since we met--loved you with a despairing,
desperate love such as I hope that you may never know. Was I to allow
your phantom Angela to snatch the cup from my lips without a struggle,
the only happy cup I ever knew? For, Arthur, at the best of times, I
have not