“Indeed! Why?” “Because if I were a perfect woman I’d never have any inclination to go further than the ‘d.’” “You’re striving after the perfect woman?” “Yes,” sighed Rosalie; “but she’s very delusive. It’s so easy to overstep the bounds and become saintly.” He laughed. “I don’t think you’ll ever be that.” “But why?” “The strain would be too great. You’d best remain as you are. I believe the dance is ending.” “And—and never a word settled about my dress.” “Are you so much in earnest about it?” “Indeed, yes. I went through all the pains and penalties of trying it on, stood three weary hours as model, and it was so beautiful my heart longed for it then, and has done so ever since.” “It’s nothing but imagination. You must look for something else.” They rose together, and suddenly she put her hand upon his arm, and said in just such a voice as a mermaid might, half laughing, half plaintively: “I won’t come to dance the New Year in; I’ve nothing fit to come in. And as for the slippers that you sent to me, you can search for them just where you like. I don’t want them, and I won’t wear them. I only want the dress.” And she showed him her foot in its silk stocking, without slipper or other covering. “Where are your slippers?” said he. “I’ve hidden them, and you may find them.” And suddenly he looked at her quite sternly, and he said: “You’ve been to see Mariana.” Rosalie returned the glance as meekly as became the situation. “The doors were all unlocked. Besides, you should have found me a partner for the supper-time. I resented it.” “And what do you think of Mariana?” “I think that you and I are inexpressibly different in our idea of things.” “Indeed! It is because of you she’s placed where she is.” “And because of me you ought to place her where she isn’t.” “I am not disposed to laugh. Your constant prying is objectionable.” “I pay dearly for it: hard words and cold glances from everyone, yourself included.” “Not too high a price, it seems.” “Dear me, no! I trust to the luck that saved Red Chin’s wife. I’m not in the least bit inclined to cry to-night, Mr. Barringcourt I feel happy enough to dance without slippers on.” And she stooped and kissed the precious stone she wore. He looked at it and then at her. “Give that stone to me,” he said suddenly. Her cheeks paled as quickly. “I love it too well to ever think of parting with it,” she answered. “The price of Mariana’s freedom.” “No,” and her voice was a mixture of a gasp and weakness. “And yet you love Mariana! How you do misjudge the word! You don’t know what love is.” “Neither do you.” “I make no professions.” “I have no right to give away this stone; it was given to me.” “Keep it, then. I simply asked for it to prove your inherent selfishness.” “You could have proved it by a much simpler test. It is one of the dragon’s heads impossible to conquer. Every now and then I give it a sleeping potion, and get some rest. It’s very efficacious, I can tell you.”