"Tony wouldn't be such a beast," exclaimed Myra. "If he dared to blame

me, I'd break off my engagement and marry Don Carlos, if only to spite

him."

"Humph! And supposing, after breaking off your engagement, you found

that Don Carlos did not want to marry you, what a fool you'd look and

feel!" responded her aunt. "My dear Myra, don't you realise that if

the facts were known the world would condemn you for attempting to play

fast and loose with both Tony Standish and Don Carlos de Ruiz, and the

general verdict would be that it served you right to be left in the

lurch. Tony would be quite justified in throwing you over, and by the

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time the gossips had finished your reputation would be--well, rather

the worse for wear."

"Aunt Clarissa, you don't really think Tony would throw me over if he

knew?" asked Myra anxiously, after a thoughtful pause. "Why, I told

Tony at Auchinleven that I intended to flirt with Don Carlos and make

him fall in love with me, but he would not take me seriously. I told

him I meant it and was in earnest, but he only laughed. It is really

all his fault. And he was so obtuse this afternoon. Surely he might

have guessed what had happened."

Lady Fermanagh sat silent for a full minute, then suddenly she rose and

laid her hands on Myra's shoulders.

"Myra Rostrevor, answer me truthfully," she commanded, with a searching

glance. "Are you, or are you not, in love with Don Carlos?"

"I--I don't know," Myra answered, shaking her head distractedly. "I

think I hate him, but if I could believe he was really sincere and in

earnest I think I should love him. If I had been tempting, teasing,

and tantalising him to-day, as I did when we were at Auchinleven, I

could excuse him for losing his head and kissing me. To-day I didn't

give him the slightest encouragement. He had shown his indifference by

going away without even a word of farewell, and I suppose he kissed me

in cold blood merely to fulfil his threat and his boast that he always

keeps a promise."

"Cold-blooded kisses can hardly be very shocking, I should imagine,"

remarked Lady Fermanagh drily.

"They were not cold-blooded. He kissed me ravenously, passionately,

and almost stifled me. I felt as if he were drinking the heart out of

me," said Myra. "If I was sure he is as frantically in love with me as

he professes to be, I could excuse him, and I might find myself falling

in love with him. It is the thought that he may still only be amusing

himself, gratifying his vanity and trying to make good his boast that

no woman can resist him, that galls me. If I confessed myself in love

with him, and he then told me he had merely been amusing himself and

proving his power, I should die of shame."




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