o alluring to-night, Opal?"

Her whole body quivered, caught fire from the flame in his eyes. What
was there about this man that made her always so conscious she was a
woman? Why could she never be calm in his presence, but was always so
fated to _feel, feel, feel!_

Her voice trembled as she looked up at him and answered, "Am I wicked,
Paul? I wanted to be happy to-night--just for to-night! I wanted to
forget the fate that was staring me so relentlessly in the face. But--I
couldn't, Paul!"

Then she glanced through the curtains into the ballroom and shuddered.

"The Count is looking for me," she said. The Boy winced, and she went on
rapidly, excitedly. "We must part. As well now as any time, I suppose,
since it has to be. But first, Paul, let me say it once--just once--_I
love you!_"

He snatched her to him--God! that any one else should ever have the
right!

"And I--worship you, Opal! Even that seems a weak word, to-night.
But--you understand, don't you? I didn't know at sea whether it was love
or what it was that had seized me as nothing ever had before. But I know
now! And listen, Opal--this isn't a vow, nor anything of that kind--but
I feel that I want to say it. I shall always love you just this
way--always--I feel it, I know it!--as long as I live! Will you
remember, darling?--remember--everything?"

"Yes--yes! And you, Paul?"

"Till death!" And his lips held hers, regardless of ten thousand Counts
and their claims upon her caresses.

And they clung together again in the anguish of parting that comes at
some time, or another into the lives of all who know love.

Then like mourners walking away from the graves of their loved ones,
they returned to the ballroom, with the dull ache of buried happiness in
their hearts.

CHAPTER XIV

Out--far out--in the great American West, the Boy wandered. And Paul
Verdayne, understanding as only he could understand, felt how little use
his companionship and sympathy really were at this crisis of the Boy's
life.

All through the month of August they travelled, the Boy looking upon the
land he had been so eager to see with eyes that saw nothing but his own
disappointment, and the barrenness of his future. The hot sun beat down
upon the shadeless prairies with the intensity of a living flame. But it
seemed as nothing to the heat of his own passion--his own fiery
rebellion against the decree of destiny--altogether powerless against
the withering despair that