Of the mercenary plot by which she was to be made the means of supplying her father and Wallace Armstrong with money for their vices and extravagances by her marriage with the latter, she had not the slightest suspicion. More than once she had been startled by the troubled and remorseful expression which crept into Mr. Armstrong's face when she raised her clear eyes to his. The young man had the saving grace to realise the paltry part he was playing, and for three days now he had avoided Laline, and had spent his time in bars and billiard-rooms of the town. He was fully determined to marry her, and to play the part of a kindly and affectionate brother until she could grow to love him. That she would do this sooner or later he took as a foregone conclusion, sharing, as he did with most men, the idea that any woman married to him was bound in time to love him. But meanwhile he did not care to meet the long trustful gaze of her soft dark eyes; and it was almost with a feeling of vexation that this afternoon, as he strolled down the pier, smoking a cigar, with his hands in his pockets and his straw hat tilted over his eyes to protect them from the sun, he found himself face to face with Laline, and saw the look of pleasure on her face as she recognised him. "We haven't seen you for three days," she said, as he took a seat by her side. "I began to think you must have left Boulogne." "Without saying 'Good-bye' to you? Was that likely?" He was to be married to this girl in ten days--they were to pass their future lives together. And yet, seated here by her side in the sunshine, Wallace Armstrong, ordinarily the most self-possessed of men, felt tongue-tied and abashed before her. She was wonderfully pretty, but her very freshness and fairness became a reproach. He knew that he did not love her--knew, too, that her attraction for him lay chiefly in the utter dissimilarity between her and such women as he had heretofore chiefly noticed. The thought of his own unworthiness, while it failed to turn him from his purpose, served to render him morose and discontented. Laline saw his heavy black eyebrows contract into an ugly frown, and involuntarily drew back from him. "Are you vexed with us in any way?" she asked, timidly. "With my father or myself, I mean?" "Don't talk of your father in the same breath with yourself!" he said, harshly. "I never think of you as in any way akin." Laline flushed painfully. "Please remember," she said, in a low voice, "that he is my father." "Do you love him for that, simply because you are told it is your duty?" "I hope I do," she answered very low. "But I cannot love him as I loved her--my mother." "Well, you will leave him some day, of course, and will find some one who will appreciate you better. Tell me, Miss Laline--have you any sweethearts in the town?" She opened her dark eyes wide and laughed.