"Nay, nay," said Lieberg, softening his tone again, "though what I say is true, think not of it. I meant but to shew you what was in my power, Helen. I have not thought of using that power. To wring or pain your heart would pain my own, dear girl. Forgive me for what I have said--think that it was but the mad vehemence of passion. Oh, feel for me, Helen!--you that seem made for love and joy, feel for the intense, the burning love you have inspired. Think not that I would hurt your brother. On the contrary, I have tended him with kindness and care, when there was no one to tend him but myself. I have furnished him with all that was needful for his happiness, and it is his first wish and desire you should be mine. My vehemence has frightened and surprised you, I see; but you know not what it is I feel. Sit down again, dear girl, and listen to me--listen to me but for a moment----." "No, Count Lieberg," she replied, firmly, "I will not! I will neither sit down nor listen to you at all, but upon one subject. I can easily conceive that you suppose my brother's fate entirely in your hands; but, thank God, my reputation is not; and I believe you speak a falsehood when you say that you can make even the general world, much less those that love and esteem me, believe that I ever was the paramour of a man whom I hate and despise. I believe, sir, that you have told a gross falsehood, for the same base purpose for which you have threatened a brother's life to the ears of his sister." The look of Helen Barham had changed under the emotions that she felt. Instead of fear, and timidity, and horror, it bore now the look of indignant pride. Her head was raised high, her beautiful nostril expanded, her bright eyes flashed, and Lieberg, though all these signs of anger were displayed against himself, felt passion but the stronger in his heart. "Nay, nay, Helen," he said, in a quick, but half sportive tone, "if you so dare me, dear lady, I must shew that I threaten not without power. Look at these few words of written invitation, in Helen Barham's hand! Sent to me by my own valet last night, after all the household were in bed--'_Whenever you like.--Helen Barham!_'" To Lieberg's surprise, the horror and detestation which became the predominant expression of Helen's countenance, was ummingled with anything like fear.