ittle more trustful. Do not be a dumb idol. Say that you love
me, or do not love me. If you can look me in the face and say the last,
I will leave you without another word. I will take my sentence and go.'

But this was just what Lesbia could not do. She could not deny her love;
and yet she could not sacrifice all things for her love. She lifted the
heavy lids which veiled those lovely eyes, and looked up at him
imploringly.

'Give me time to breathe, time to think,' she said.

'And then will you answer me plainly, truthfully, without a shadow of
reserve, remembering that the fate of two lives hangs on your words.'

'I will.'

'Let it be so, then. I'll go for a ramble over the hills, and return in
time for afternoon tea. I shall look for you on the tennis lawn at
half-past four.'

He took her in his arms, and this time she yielded herself to him, and
the beautiful head rested for a few moments upon his breast, and the
soft eyes looked up at him in confiding fondness. He bent and kissed her
once only, but a kiss that meant for life and death. In the next moment
he was gone, leaving her alone among the pine trees.

CHAPTER XI.

'IF I WERE TO DO AS ISEULT DID.'

Lady Maulevrier rarely appeared at luncheon. She took some slight
refection in her morning-room, among her books and papers, and in the
society of her canine favourites, whose company suited her better at
certain hours than the noisier companionship of her grandchildren. She
was a studious woman, loving the silent life of books better than the
inane chatter of everyday humanity. She was a woman who thought much and
read much, and who lived more in the past than the present. She lived
also in the future, counting much upon the splendid career of her
beautiful granddaughter, which should be in a manner a lengthening out,
a renewal of her own life. She looked forward to the day when Lesbia
should reign supreme in the great world, a famous beauty and leader of
fashion, her every act and word inspired and directed by her
grandmother, who would be the shadow behind the throne. It was
possible--nay, probable--that in those days Lady Maulevrier would
herself re-appear in society, establish her salon, and draw around her
closing years all that is wittiest, best, and wisest in the great world.

Her ladyship was reposing in her low reading-chair, with a volume of
Tyndall on the book-stand before her, when the door was opened softly
and Lesbia came gliding