er woman. I won't have it, Stephen--after all I've gone through. If
you try to break your solemn word to me, I'll sue you. There'll be
another case that will drag your name before the public again, and not
only yours----"

"Be still, Margot," said Stephen.

She grew deadly pale. "I will not be still," she panted. "I _will_ have
justice. No one shall take you away from me."

"No one wishes to take me away," Stephen flung at her hotly. "Miss Ray
has just refused me. You've spared me the trouble of taking her
advice----"

"What was it?" Margot looked suddenly anxious, and at the same time
self-assertive.

"That I should go at once to England--and to you."

Victoria took a step forward, then paused, pale and trembling. "Oh,
Stephen!" she cried. "I take back that advice. I--I've changed my mind.
You can't--you can't do it. You would be so miserable that she'd be
wretched, too. I see now, it's not right to urge people to do things,
especially when--one only _thinks_ one understands. She doesn't love you
really. I feel almost sure she cares more for some one else, if--if it
were not for things you have, which she wants. If you're rich, as I
suppose you must be, don't make this sacrifice, which would crush your
soul, but give her half of all you have in the world, so that she can be
happy in her own way, and set you free gladly."

As Victoria said these things, she remembered M'Barka, and the prophecy
of the sand; a sudden decision to be made in an instant, which would
change her whole life.

"I'll gladly give Miss Lorenzi more than half my money," said Stephen.
"I should be happy to think she had it. But even if you begged me to
marry her, Victoria, I would not now. It's gone beyond that. Her ways
and mine must be separate forever."

Margot's face grew eager, and her eyes flamed.

"What I want and insist on," she said, "is that I must have my rights.
After all I've hoped for and expected, I _won't_ be thrown over, and go
back to the old, dull life of turning and twisting every shilling. If
you'll settle thirty thousand pounds on me, you are free, so far as I
care. I wouldn't marry a man who hated me, when there's one who adores
me as if I were a saint--and I like him better than ever I did you--a
lot better. I realize that more than I did before."

The suggestion of Margot Lorenzi as a saint might have made a looker-on
smile, but Victoria and Stephen passed it by, scarcely hearing.

"If I give you thirty thousan