the cracked voice that Olivia colored,
in spite of the degree in which she thought herself armed against all
surprises. It was a minute or more before she was prepared with an
answer.

"I changed my attitude toward him. Before that I'd been hostile and
insolent, and then--and then--I grew humble. Yes, Aunt Vic--humble. I
grew more than humble. I came to feel--well, as you might feel if you'd
struck a great St. Bernard dog who'd been rescuing you in the snow.
There's something about him that makes you think of a St. Bernard--so
big and true and loyal--"

"Did you ever think he might be in love with you?"

She was ready for this question, and had made up her mind to answer it
frankly. "Yes. I was afraid he was advancing the money on that account.
I felt so right up to--to a few days ago."

"And what happened then?"

"Drusilla told me he'd said he--wasn't."

Madame de Melcourt let that pass. "Did you think he'd fallen in love
with you all of a sudden when he came that night to dinner?"

She resolved to tell the whole truth. "I'd known him before. He asked me
to marry him years ago. And something happened. I hardly know how to
tell you. I didn't answer him."

"Didn't answer him?"

"I got up and walked away, right in the middle of--of what he was trying
to tell me."

"Ti-ens! And you had to take his money after all?"

Olivia bowed her head.

"Ca c'est trop fort," the old lady went on. "You're quite right then
when you say you'll never be able to pay him off, even if you get rid of
him. But he's paid _you_ off, hasn't he? It's a more beautiful situation
than I fancied. He didn't tell me that."

Olivia looked up. "He didn't tell you? Who?"

"Your papa," the old lady said, promptly. "It's perfectly lovely, isn't
it? I should think when you meet him you must feel frightfully ashamed.
Don't you?"

"I should if there wasn't something about him that--"

"And you'll never get over it," the old lady went on, pitilessly, "not
even after you've married the other man. The humiliation will haunt
you--toujours--toujours! N'est-ce pas? If it were I, I should want to
marry a man I'd done a thing like that to--just to carry it off. But
_you_ can't, can you? You've _got_ to marry the other man. Even if you
weren't so horribly in love with him, you'd have to marry him, when he's
stood by you like that. I should be ashamed of you if you didn't."

"Of course, Aunt Vic."

"If he were to back out that would be another thing