suddenly
came to her that she would be giving a secret into this man's hands, she
added, "That is, if you want me for a model merely."

"Mrs. Detlor," he said, "you may trust me, on my honor."

She looked at him, not searchingly, but with a clear, honest gaze such as
one sees oftenest in the eyes of children, yet she had seen the
duplicities of life backward and said calmly, "Yes, I can trust you."

"An artist's subject ought to be sacred to him," he said. "It becomes
himself, and then it isn't hard--to be silent."

They walked for a few moments, saying nothing. The terrace was filling
with people, so they went upon the veranda and sat down. There were no
chairs near them. They were quite at the end.

"Please light a cigar," she said with a little laugh. "We must not look
serious. Assume your light comedy manner as you listen, and I will wear
the true Columbine expression. We are under the eyes of the curious."

"Not too much light comedy for me," he said. "I shall look forbidding lest
your admirers bombard us."

They were quiet again.

"This is the story," she said at last, folding her hands before her. "No,
no," she added hastily, "I will not tell you the story, I will try and
picture one scene. And when I have finished, tell me if you don't think I
have a capital imagination." She drew herself up with a little gesture of
mockery. "It is comedy, you know.

"Her name was Marion Conquest. She was beautiful--they said that of her
then--and young, only sixteen. She had been very happy, for a man said
that he loved her, and she wore his ring on her finger. One day, while she
was visiting at a place far from her home, she was happier than usual. She
wished to be by herself to wonder how it was that one could be so happy.
You see, she was young and did not think often. She only lived. She took a
horse and rode far away into the woods. She came near a cottage among the
trees. She got off her horse and led it. Under a tree she saw a man and a
woman. The man's arm was round the woman. A child four or five years old
was playing at their feet--at the feet of its father and mother. * * * The
girl came forward and faced the man--the man she had sworn to marry. As I
said, his ring was on her finger."

She paused. People were passing near, and she smiled and bowed once or
twice, but Hagar saw that the fire in her eyes had deepened.

"Is it strong enough for your picture?" she said quietly.

"It is as strong as it is pai