ve, with all my woman's wiles and
arts, I cannot act the hypocrite like men."

"What mean you, darling cynic?" asked he, jocosely.

"Darling!" she cried, repeating the word, with a peculiar look. "To tell
two girls within the hour you love each to the death would be in me
hypocrisy, I admit, beyond my art; but you men can do such things with
conscience clear."

Hart turned away his face. "She's found me out," he thought.

"Nell, I never loved the Spanish dancing-girl. You know I love but you."

"Oh, ho!" laughed Nell. "Then why did you tell her so?--to break her
heart or mine?"

The manager stood confused. He scarce knew what to say.

"You are cruel, Nell," he pleaded, fretfully. "You never loved me,
never."

"Did I ever say I did?"

Hart shook his head sadly.

"Come, don't pout, Jack. An armistice in this, my friend, for you were
my friend in the old days when I needed one, and I love you for that."
She placed her hands kindly on the manager's shoulders, then turned and
began to arrange anew the gift-flowers in the vase.

"I'll win your life's love, Nell, in spite of you," he said,
determinedly.

She turned her honest eyes upon him. "Nay, do not try; believe me, do
not try," she said softly.

"Nell, you do not mean--?" His voice faltered.

"You must not love me," she said, firmly; "believe me, you must not."

"I must not love you!" His voice scarcely breathed the words.

"There, there; we are growing sentimental, Jack,--and at our age," she
replied. She laughed gaily and started for her tiring-room.

He followed her.

"Sup with me, Nell," he pleaded. "No word of this, I promise you."

"Heyday, I'll see how good you are, Jack," she answered, cordially.

"My second bid to sup to-night," she thought. "Who sets the better
feast?"

The tiring-room door was open; and the little candles danced gleefully
about the make-up mirror, for even candles seemed happy when Nell came
near. The maid stood ready to assist her to a gown and wrap, that she
might leave the theatre.

Nell turned. Hart still stood waiting. The spirit of kindness
o'er-mastered her.

"Your hand, friend, your hand," she said, taking the manager's hand.
"When next you try to win a woman's love, don't throw away her
confidence; for you will never get it back again entire."

Hart bowed his head under the rebuke; and she entered her room.

CHAPTER IV

_Flowers and Music feed naught but Love._

The manager sto