"No, Paulina," replied Douglas; "I would not make a _bargain_ with the woman I love. I know that you have not yet learned to love me, and yet I do not fear for the future, if you consent to become my wife. True love, such as mine, rarely fails to win its reward, sooner or later. I am content to wait. It will be sufficient happiness to me to know that I have rescued you from a miserable and degrading position." "You are only too generous," murmured Paulina, softly; "only too generous." "And now tell me the immediate object of this most welcome summons. I will not press you for a prompt reply to my suit; I will trust that time may be my friend. Tell me how I can serve you, and why you sent for me to-day?" "I sent for you that I might ask you for the loan of two hundred pounds, to satisfy the claims of my most urgent creditors, and to prevent the necessity of an ignominious flight." "I will write you a cheque immediately for five hundred," said Douglas. "You can drive to my banker's, and get it cashed there. Or stay; it would not be so well for my banker to know that I lent you money. Let me come again to you this evening, and bring ink sum in bank-notes. That will give me an excuse for coming." "How can I ever thank you sufficiently?" "Do not thank me at all. Only let me love you, looking forward hopefully to the day in-which you may learn to love me." "That day must surely come ere long," replied Paulina, thoughtfully. "Gratitude so profound as mine, esteem so sincere, must needs grow into a warmer feeling." "Yes, Paulina," said Douglas, "if your heart is free. Forgive me if I approach a subject painful to you and to me. Reginald Eversleigh--my cousin--have you seen him often lately?" "I have not seen him since he left London for Hallgrove. I am not likely to see him again." "I am very glad of that. There is but one fear in my mind when I think of our future, Paulina." "And that is?" "The fear that Reginald Eversleigh may come between you and me." "You need no longer fear that," replied Madame Durski. "You have been so noble, so devoted in your conduct to me, that I must be indeed a worthless wretch if I shrink from the painful duty of laying my heart bare before you. I have loved your cousin Reginald, foolishly, blindly; but there must come an end to all folly; there must come a day when the bandage falls from the eyes that have obstinately shunned the light. That day has come for me; and Sir Reginald Eversleigh is henceforward nothing more to me than the veriest stranger." "A thousand thanks, dearest, for that assurance," exclaimed Douglas; "and now trust in me. Tour future shall be so bright and happy that the past will seem to you no more than a troubled dream." CHAPTER XXVIII. PREPARING THE GROUND.