s--and you--with you--it has
been different."

She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with her
lips. She watched him curiously.

"Dear me!" she murmured, "what would you have? I am a woman--I have been
a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold. So I will
admit that with me--it has been different. Come! What then?"

He groaned.

"I wonder," he said, "what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of fortune
brought you once more into my life?"

She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
unaffectedly.

"What adorable candour!" she exclaimed. "My dear friend, how amiable you
are."

He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from her
lips.

"Lucille, will you marry me?"

"Marry you? I? Certainly not."

"And why not?"

"For a score of reasons, if you want them," she answered. "First,
because I think it is delightful to have you for a friend. I can never
quite tell what you are going to do or say. As a husband I am almost
sure that you would be monotonous. But then, how could you avoid it?
It is madness to think of destroying a pleasant friendship in such a
manner."

"You are mocking me," he said sadly.

"Well," she said, "why not? Your own proposal is a mockery."

"A mockery! My proposal!"

"Yes," she answered steadily. "You know quite well that the very
thought of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I abhor your
politics, I detest your party. You are ambitious, I know. You intend to
be Prime Minister, a people's Prime Minister. Well, for my part, I hate
the people. I am an aristocrat. As your wife I should be in a perfectly
ridiculous position. How foolish! You have led me into talking of this
thing seriously. Let us forget all this rubbish."

He stood before her--waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his manner
dogged with purpose.

"It is not rubbish," he said. "It is true that I shall be Prime
Minister. It is true also that you will be my wife."

She shrank back from him--uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the ring in
his tone distressed her.

"As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I will
convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The cause of the
people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which beats through all the
world. You too shall hear it."

"Thank you," she said. "I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in
what you call freedom for the people. I have discover