A defiant gleam leaped into her eyes as she stood at bay, and in the brilliant moonlight the coil of opals around her lovely neck seemed a writhing serpent of flame. "Though women are satirized as unworthy custodians of their suitor's confidential proposals, it appears that manly friends have no compunction in violating the seal of secrecy. Why did I fail to marry Hoyte Kingdon? Since your Excellency indulges such sympathetic solicitude in his behalf, it will comfort you to know that I sometimes share your wonder at my lack of wisdom in ignoring a prize coveted by many others. I respected Hoyte, admired his handsome personality, his very brilliant talent, his diplomatic career; and certainly the position he occupied as ambassador at Court was alluring to my ambition and tempting in various aspects. I liked him immensely, and I wished very much to love him, but despite my heroic efforts I could not find him essential to my happiness. Is it not unfortunate that one cannot successfully whistle love to come, as one signals to a terrier or a roaming canary? Since the days of poor Psyche elusive love plays hide-and-seek in devious and baffling ways. Hoyte now has a beautiful and charming wife who makes him supremely happy and graces the conspicuous diplomatic circle in which he has attained the highest honors. We expect to spend Christmas with Hoyte and his wife after our return from Bangkok. I am sure his guardian angel was alert when he barred my heart against Ambassador Kingdon's magnetism." Leaning forward, the Governor's eyes seemed to search her soul, and his voice thrilled like a viol's chord. "Did no tender, regretful memory hold fast the lock that refused to yield?" For an instant she put her hand upon the jewelled collar to loosen some stricture that caught her throat, but her tone was firm, her eyes fixed on his. "Governor Armitage ought to know that women are not retrospective, that like other butterflies the present suffices and we flee from 'regret' as the real vampire that robs us of bloom and is so detrimental to curves of beauty. We shrink from dead years--spectre-peopled--as one shuns midnight prowls in a cemetery where graves may suddenly yawn over fleshless horrors." "Across the chasm of thirteen years you still prefer to make no signal of reconciliation?" "Scourged by a sense of justice quite as keen as your own, I have apologized for a great wrong you once suffered at my hands. I owed you that acknowledgment, and now the debt is cancelled fully, and the ghost of that one regret is eternally at rest since I have the gratifying assurance that the harsh misjudgment of an impulsive girl had no power to spoil your life, or retard your eminently successful career."