"Your cordial kindness affects me deeply, Mr. Dale," said Paulina, with a blush that was the glow of real shame. "You are right; I should be the last woman in the world to appeal to you thus if I had not need of your help--bitter need. I appeal to you, because I know the goodness and generosity of your nature. I appeal to you as a beggar." "Madame Durski, for pity's sake, do not speak thus," cried Douglas, interrupting her. "Every penny that I possess in the world is at your command. I am ready to begin life again, a worker for my daily bread, rather than that you should suffer one hour's pain, one moment's humiliation, that money can prevent." "You are too generous, too noble," exclaimed Paulina, in a broken voice. "The only way in which I can prove my gratitude for your delicate goodness is by being perfectly candid. My life has been a strange one, Mr. Dale--a life of apparent prosperity, but of real poverty. Before I was old enough to know the value of a fortune, I was robbed of that which should have been mine, and robbed by the father who should have protected my interests. From that hour I have known little except trouble. I was married to a man whom I never loved--married at the command of the father who had robbed me. If I have not fallen, as many other women so mated have fallen, I take no pride in my superior strength of mind. It may be that temptation such as lures other women to their ruin never approached me. Since my husband died, my life, as you too well know, has been a degraded one. I have been the companion and friend of gamesters. It is, indeed, only since I came to England that I have myself ceased to be a gambler. Can you remember all this, Mr. Dale, and yet pity me?" "I can remember it all, and yet love you, Paulina," answered Douglas, with emotion. "We are not masters of our own affections. From the hour in which I first saw you I have loved you--loved you in spite of myself. I will admit that your life has not been that which I would have chosen for the woman I love; and that to remember your past history is pain to me. But, in spite of all, I ask you to be my wife; and it shall be the business of my future life to banish from your remembrance every sorrow and every humiliation that you have suffered in the past. Say that you will be my wife, Paulina. I love you as few women are loved. I am rich, and have the power to remove you far from every association that is painful to you. Tell me that I may be the guardian of your future existence." Paulina contemplated her lover for a few moments with singular earnestness. She was deeply impressed by his generous devotion, and she could not but compare this self-sacrificing love with the base selfishness of Reginald Eversleigh's conduct. "You do not ask me if I can return your affection," she said, after that earnest look. "You offer to raise me from degradation and poverty, and you demand nothing in return."