s. How did he know? Had he seen her,
then? But he evidently did know, and there was no use to lie. "I was
so--frightened--that--"

Tristram took a step nearer and sat down by her side. He saw the
confession was being dragged from her, and he gloried in it and would
not help her out.

She moved further from him, then, with grudging reluctance, she
continued,

"There can be such unpleasant quarrels with those horrible men. It--was
so very late--I--I--wished to be sure that you had come safely in."

Then she looked down, and the rose died out of her face, leaving it very
white.

And if Tristram's pride in the decision he had come to, on the fatal
wedding night, that she must make the first advances before he would
again unbend, had not held him, he would certainly have risked
everything and clasped her in his arms. As it was, he resisted the
intense temptation to do so, and made himself calm, while he answered,

"It mattered to you, then, in some way, that I should not come to harm?"

He was still sitting on the sofa near her, and that magnetic essence
which is in propinquity appealed to her; ignorant of all such emotions
as she was she only knew something had suddenly made her feel nervous,
and that her heart was thumping in her side.

"Yes, of course it mattered," she faltered, and then went on coldly, as
he gave a glad start; "scandals are so unpleasant--scenes and all those
things are so revolting. I had to endure many of them in my former
life."

Oh! so that was it! Just for fear of a scandal and because she had known
disagreeable things! Not a jot of feeling for himself! And Tristram got
up quickly and walked to the fireplace. He was cut to the heart.

The case was utterly hopeless, he felt. He was frozen and stung each
time he even allowed himself to be human and hope for anything. But he
was a strong man, and this should be the end of it. He would not be
tortured again.

He took the little bunch of flowers out of his pocket and handed it to
her quietly, while his face was full of pain.

"Here is the proof you left me of your kind interest," he told her.
"Perhaps your maid will miss it and wish to sew it on." And then without
another word he went out of the room.

Zara, left alone, sat staring into the fire. What did all this mean? She
felt very unhappy, but not angry or alarmed. She did not want to hurt
him. Had she been very unkind? After all, he had behaved, in comparison
to Ladislaus, with wonde