did not speak at all.

"Haven't you _anything_ to say?" she asked coyly; though her eyes, as
they fixed mine, were not coy, but eager; and I felt, eerily, that she
was wondering whether the millions, of which she'd heard, were in
English pounds or American dollars.

I hesitated. If I replied "Nothing," she would probably snatch Robert
back from Phyllis lips, and I had not gone so far along the path of
villainy to fail my Burne-Jones Angel now.

"I will tell you what I have to say to-morrow," I answered, in a low
voice; and then I am afraid that, to be convincing, I almost squeezed
her hand.

XXX

We were called early in the morning, to take the twins and Freule
Menela--the fiancee no longer--for a drive through Utrecht, to see the
beautiful parks and the Cathedral before starting on the day's journey.
Since the making of this plan, however, many things were changed. Robert
and Menela were both "disengaged," and how they would think it decorous
to behave to each other, how the twins would treat the lady (if the
truth had been revealed), remained to be seen. If I had had no personal
interest at stake, I should have found pleasure in the situation, and in
watching how things shaped themselves; but, as it was, I realized that I
might be one of the things to be shaped, and that I should be lucky if I
were allowed to shape myself.

I thought it well to be late to breakfast, lest the erstwhile fiancee
and I should meet _en tete-a-tete_; and it was evident, at a glance,
that Lisbeth and Lilli already knew all. The admirable Menela had
probably told them in their bedroom over night, thus giving the pair
plenty of solid food for dreams; and the pretty creatures were pale,
self-conscious, and nervous, not knowing how to bear themselves after
the earthquake which had shaken the relationship of years.

Robert also was uneasy; but, to my regret, emotion enhanced his good
looks. What I had done had not been done for his benefit. I had not
jeopardized my happiness to make him more attractive, to give fire to
his eyes, and an expression of manly self-control striving with passion,
to his already absurdly perfect features. Though, plainly, he was
undergoing some mental crisis, he held his feelings so well in leash
that no outsider could have judged whether he were the saddest or the
happiest of men, and his sisters watched him anxiously, hoping to
receive a guiding clue for their own behavior.

As for Freule Menela, sh