“You sent for me, Marquis,” said Margaret presently, “and, being your prisoner, I have come because I must. What is your pleasure with me?” “Dona Margaret,” he answered gravely, “can you not guess? Well, I will tell you, lest you should guess wrong. First, it is to ask your forgiveness as I have done before, for the many crimes to which my love, my true love, for you has driven me. This time yesterday I knew well that I could expect none. To-day I dare to hope that it may be otherwise.” [Illustration: ] “To-day I dare to hope that it may be otherwise” “Why so, Marquis?” “Last evening you looked into a certain garden and saw two people walking there—yonder is one of them,” and he nodded towards Inez. “Shall I go on?” “No,” she answered in a low voice, and passing her hands before her face. “Only tell me who and what is that woman?” and in her turn she looked towards Inez. “Is it necessary?” he asked. “Well, if you wish to know, she is a Spaniard of good blood who with her sister was taken captive by the Moors. A certain priest, who took an interest in the sister, brought her to my notice and I bought her from them; so, as her parents were dead and she had nowhere else to go, she elected to stay in my house. You must not judge such things too harshly; they are common here. Also, she has been very useful to me, being clever, for through her I have intelligence of many things. Of late, however, she has grown tired of this life, and wishes to earn her freedom, which I have promised her in return for certain services, and to leave Granada.” “Was the nursing of my betrothed one of those services, Marquis?” He shrugged his shoulders. “As you will, Señora. Certainly I forgive her this indiscretion, if at last she has shown you the truth about that man for whose sake you have endured so much. Margaret, now that you know him for what he is, say, do you still cling to him?” She rose and walked a few steps down the arcade, then came back and asked: “Are you any better than this fallen man?”