"No, Lil," he said, in a low voice, "I will not be hard with her. But as for love! True love does not stand by and see its beloved suffer as I have suffered; not true love. There is a passion which men libel by calling love--that is what she has borne for me. Love! Think of her? Yes; I will think of her; but how am I to forget my beautiful, suffering darling, lying so white and wan and broken," and he hid his face in his hands. Presently he rose and kissed her. "I am going to her," he said. "Do not fear! I have given you my word; I will deal gently with her." She let him go without another word, and he went straight to Lenore's sitting-room, travel-stained and haggard, and unrefreshed. The maid heard his knock, and opened the door, and passed out as he entered and stood in the middle of the room. There was a faint rustle in the adjoining room, and then she came floating toward him in all her loveliness, the faint, ethereal blue making her white skin to shame the rare and costly pearls. She was dazzling in her supreme loveliness, and at any other time he would have been moved, but now it was as if a deadly, venomous serpent, glorious in its scaly beauty, lay coiled before him. She came forward, her hands outstretched, her eyes glowing with a passionate welcome, and then stopped. Not a word passed for a moment; the two, she in all her costly attire and loveliness, he in his stained cord suit and with his haggard face, confronted each other. She read her doom at a glance, but the proud, haughty spirit did not quail. "Well?" she said at last. Chivalrous to the last, even in this moment, he pointed to a seat, but she made a gesture of refusal and stood, her white hands clasped tightly, her head erect, her eyes glowing. "Well? You have come back?" "Yes, I have come back, Lady Lenore," he said, his voice dry and hoarse. She smiled bitterly at the "lady." "You are late," she said. "Was it worth while coming back?" It was a proud and insolent question, but he bore with her. "I came back for your sake," he said. "For mine!" and she smiled incredulously. She could smile still, though an icy hand was closing round her heart, and wringing the life blood out of it. "For yours. It was not fitting that you should hear from other lips than mine that from this hour you and I are as far apart as pole from pole." She inclined her head. "So be it. There is no appeal from such a sentence. But may I ask you to explain; dare I venture so far?" and her lip curled. "Do you think you dare?" he said, sternly. She inclined her head, his sternness struck her like a blow. "You have come to tell me, have you not?" she said. "Where have you been?" "I have come from Carlyon," he said. "From whom?" "From the girl from whom your base scheming separated me," he said, sternly. "Ah," she breathed, but her eyes opened with a wild stare. "You--you have gone back to her?" He waved his hand.