gently, gave me soft speeches, led me to think I know not what, you won my—but I will not lower myself to say more; and then like a coward and all unlike the man I deemed you, you fawn on me with your 'I had no idea.' Shame on you, shame on you. I could hate you for such words."
"Could hate me, Lucette; but you do not?" It was plain, indeed, from both her words and agitation.
"If I do not," and she held him with an intent look for a pause until she appeared to master her emotion, and said quietly, "I have forgotten my resolve. I meant not to speak to you again, Master Dauban. It will be better so; and in time I may forgive and—forget," the last word died away in a sigh which went straight to his heart.
"As God is my judge, Lucette, I had no thought of this. I wronged you. I believed you did but play with me and took me that evening to the pine-walk that Denys St. Jean should see us. Why, I love the very ground you tread on."
"No, no, I won't hear it. I won't believe it; I cannot."
"It's true, it's true, I swear it is."
Again she looked at him long and searchingly until the lustre of her eyes seemed to daze him.
"And condemned me without a word," she said, with a sigh of exquisitely tender reproach. "Is that how a man trusts the girl he loves? Nay, Jacques, you may think you love me, but you would have come to me in candour and trust, not have flung an angry taunt at me."
"Did I not trust you? Did I not warn you against this Gerard de Cobalt? Was I not ready to betray even my master for your sake? Was I not telling you everything that evening?"
She continued to hold him with the magnetism of her look, and when he stopped she answered slowly and deliberately—
