of having written it keeps a girl true when she
should otherwise be false. But if she refuses to keep it, the remedy
then is in your own hands."

"And that remedy is"--he began, but she interrupted him quickly.

"The remedy is, of course, an action at law; or what would be far more
efficacious in her case, holding her letters as a means of getting money
from her. A proud woman will sacrifice any amount of wealth rather than
have such a thing known."

Marion Arleigh fell easily into the plot laid by those she considered
her best friends.

CHAPTER VII.

It is not pleasant to trace the steps by which the simple credulous girl
fell into the snare laid for her. She had sense and reason, but they
were both overbalanced by romance--she saw only the ideal side of
everything. The romance of this hidden love was delightful to her; she
compared herself to every heroine in fiction, and found none of them in
a more charming position that herself.

Allan's profession had something to do with romance; had he been a mere
commonplace doctor or lawyer it would have been a different matter, but
an artist--the halo of his art transfigured him in her eyes--thus to be
capable of a deep and passionate love such as he felt for her!

It was altogether like one of those romances that charmed her; and after
a time she gave herself up entirely to her love.

By the skilful mamnagement of Adelaide Lyster their meetings became very
frequent, and before long he had won from her a promise that she would
love him all her life, and would consent to marry him. Even at that
time, when she was most ecstatic, most carried away by the novelty and
the romance, even then, if any sensible person had spoken to her, she
would have understood more her position than she did now.

If anyone had said to her: "That man is not a hero, he is only a fortune
hunter; he is not even an honorable man, or he would not seek to decoy
you from your duty to bind you to an underhand agreement; instead of
being honorable and a hero he is dishonorable and a rogue"--she had
sense enough to have seen that. She understood enough of the laws of
honor to know when they were broken. But this side of the question
never occured to her. He was young, handsome, and an artist; he loved
her so dearly that for love of her he was almost dying. She was rich and
powerful; he had nothing but genius; he loved her so that her smile gave
him life, her frown was death. It was pleasant,