before had ever ravished kisses from her in such turbulent fashion. When
she thought of the abandon with which she had given herself to his lips
and his embrace, the dye deepened on her cheeks. What was this shameless
longing that had carried her to him as one looking down from a high
tower is drawn to throw himself over the edge? He had trampled under
foot the defenses that had availed against many who had a hundred times
his advantages to offer.

It was of herself, not him, that she was afraid. She had _wanted_ his
kisses. She had rejoiced in that queer, exultant stir of the blood when
his eyes stabbed fathoms deep into hers. What was the matter with her?
Always she had felt a good-natured contempt for girls who threw away
substantial advantages for what they called love. After steering a
course as steady as a mariner's compass for years was she going to play
the fool at last? Was she going to marry a pauper, a workingman, one
accused of crime, merely because of the ridiculous emotion he excited in
her?

The idea was of course absurd. The most obvious point of the situation
to her was that she dared not marry him. In her sober senses she would
not want to do such a ruinous thing. Already she was beginning to escape
from the thrill of his physical presence. He had taken the future for
granted, and during that mad quarter of an hour she had let him. Carried
away by his impetuosity and her own desire, she had consented to his
preposterous hopes. But of a certainty the idea was absurd. Joyce Seldon
was the last woman in the world to make a poor man's wife.

To-morrow she must have a serious talk with him and set the matter on a
proper footing. She must not let herself be swept away by any quixotic
sentiment. The trouble was that she liked him so well. When they met,
her good resolutions would be likely to melt in the air. She would
safeguard herself from her weakness by telling him during a ride that
had been planned. With her friends a few yards in front of them there
could be no danger of yielding to her febrile foolishness.

Or perhaps it would be better to wait. It was now only ten days till the
time set for leaving. She might write him her decision. It would be
sweet to hold him as long as she could....

A knock at the door aroused her from revery. She let Fisher in and made
preparations to have her hair dressed. This was always one of the
important duties of the day. India and Moya might scamp such things on