ot in his sense of the
fitness of things, was not what was suitable or seemly for the Tancred
name.

And when he had left her Zara had stood quite still. Some not understood
astonishment caused all her passion to die down. For all the pitifully
cruel experiences of her life she was still very young--young and
ignorant of any but the vilest of men. Hitherto she had felt when they
were kind that it was for some gain, and if a woman relented a second
she would be sure to be trapped. For her self-respect and her soul's
sake she must go armed at all points. And after her hurling at him all
her scorn, instead of her husband turning round and perhaps beating her
(as, certainly, Ladislaus would have done), he had answered with dignity
and gone out of the room.

And she remembered her father's cold mien. Perhaps there was something
else in the English--some other finer quality which she did not yet
understand.

The poor, beautiful creature was like some ill-treated animal ready to
bite to defend itself at the sight of a man.

It spoke highly for the strength and nobility of her character that,
whereas another and weaker woman would have become degraded by the
sorrows of such a life, she had remained pure as the snow, and as cold.
Her strong will and her pride had kept completely in check every
voluptuous instinct which must certainly have always lain dormant in
her. Every emotion towards man was frozen to ice.

There are some complete natures which only respond to the highest touch;
when the body and soul are evenly balanced they know all that is divine
of human love. It is those warped in either of the component parts who
bring sorrow--and lust.

The perfect woman gives willingly of herself, body and soul, to the _one
man_ she loves.

But of all these things Zara was ignorant. She only knew she was
exhausted, and she crept wearily to bed.

Thus neither bride nor bridegroom, on this their wedding night, knew
peace or rest.

They met next day for a late breakfast. They were to go to Paris by the
one o'clock boat. They were both very quiet and pale. Zara had gone into
the sitting-room first, and was standing looking out on the sea when her
husband came into the room, and she did not turn round, until he said
"Good morning," coldly, and she realized it was he.

Some strange quiver passed over her at the sound of his voice.

"Breakfast should be ready," he went on calmly. "I ordered it for eleven
o'clock. I told your