“Now,” he says, “while I hold you like this--heart to heart, hand in hand, and lip to lip--come, Zai! give me your lips--there!--I will put your love to a test! Zai, Zai!--for God’s sake--don’t you fail me now!” “I shall never fail you,” she answers in a low voice. “Not if I tell you that----” He pauses. He really dreads to see her start and shrink away from him perhaps--he dreads to see the sweet lovelight in her grey eyes fade into coldness or hardness--he dreads to lose the delicious guerdon of these soft, delicious lips. “Not if you tell me _anything_.” “Zai, Conway _is_ a free man. His marriage with Miss Meredyth is broken off entirely. Her people found out something about Flora Fitzallan, of the Bagatelle Theatre. I know for a fact that he will never be allowed to marry her. Well?” “I think,” she says, and putting her arms around his neck she lifts up a pair of sweet, soft eyes, “I think that it is a very bad thing for Mr. Conway to have lost a rich wife, and that his misfortune is my gain, for _now_ you will believe that----” “That what?” he asks eagerly. “That who he marries is no concern of mine so long as I----” “Well?” “Marry--_you_!” she says, and as she clings to this man who is to be her husband, she thanks God that she can go down on her knees beside him and swear to love, honour, and obey him so long as they both shall live. “My darling! my own, own darling!” he whispers, in his most melodious voice, and his voice can be not only melodious but _séduisante_ when he likes. “Listen, Zai. I have never been a good man; but I swear that the day of our marriage I’ll commence a new life. You will never regret that you have taken me, Zai. So help me Heaven!” The recording angel carried up this oath, but the other angels blotted it out with tears. CHAPTER III. ANTEROS. “Shall we not laugh, shall we not weep? Not we, though this be as it is; For love awake or love asleep Ends in a laugh, a dream, a kiss!” Twelve months wedded, Lady Delaval yet leads a charmed life. Her cup of bliss overflows, and under its influence her lovely face is tenfold lovelier, with the sunshine of her soul illuminating it. She has made her curtsey to the Queen on her marriage, and her train, her coiffure, and her beauty have been the talk of town. She looks so good and pure too, with no fast proclivities, and to the satiated eyes of town men these things have vast attraction. Lord Delaval has shunned all his old haunts, turned the cold shoulder to his numerous loves, avoided even looking at the professional and other beauties, and evinced an utter devotion to one woman--his wife--a fact which has amazed Society, amongst whom his fickleness has been a by-word hitherto. Prophecies as to the duration of such strange and praiseworthy conduct are rife. Will he stick to it? The “No’s” preponderate considerably over the “Yes’s,” but time will reveal which of the gossips are the best judges of human nature.