ver. I'm
not cold, and I'm far from perfect. But I can't feel it a decent thing
for a man to marry one woman, promising to love and cherish her, if his
whole being belongs to another. Even you can't----"

"I used to believe it wrong to marry a person one didn't love,"
Victoria broke in, quickly. "But it's so different when one talks of an
imaginary case. This poor girl loves you?"

"I suppose she thinks she does."

"She's poor?"

"Yes."

"And she depends upon you."

"Of course she counts on me. I always expected to keep my word."

"And now you'd break it--for me! Oh, no, I couldn't let you do it. Were
you--does she expect to be married soon?"

Stephen's face grew red, as if it had been struck. "Yes," he answered,
in a low voice.

"Would you mind--telling me how soon?"

"As soon as she gets back from Canada."

Victoria's bosom rose and fell quickly.

"Oh!--and when----"

"At once. Almost at once."

"She's coming back immediately?"

"Yes. I--I'm afraid she's in England now."

"How dreadful! Poor girl, hoping to see you--to have you meet her,
maybe, and--you're here. You're planning to break her heart. It breaks
mine to think of it. I _couldn't_ have you fail."

"For God's sake don't send me away from you. I can't go. I won't."

"Yes, if I beg you to go. And I do. You must stand by this poor girl,
alone in the world except for you. I see from what you tell me, that she
needs you and appeals to your chivalry by lacking everything except what
comes from you. It can't be wrong to protect her, after giving your
promise, even though you mayn't love her in the way you once thought you
did: but it _would_ be wrong to abandon her now----"

A rustling in the long path made Stephen turn. Some one was coming. It
was Margot Lorenzi.

He could not believe that it was really she, and stared stupidly,
thinking the figure he saw an optical illusion.

She had on a grey travelling dress, and a grey hat trimmed with black
ribbon, which, Stephen noted idly, was powdered with dust. Her black
hair was dusty, too, and her face slightly flushed with heat,
nevertheless she was beautiful, with the luscious beauty of those women
who make a strong physical appeal to men.

Behind her was an Arab servant, whom she had passed in her eagerness. He
looked somewhat troubled, but seeing Stephen he threw up his hands in
apology, throwing off all responsibility. Then he turned and went back
towards the house.

Margot, too, had