She spoke in a low, soft voice. To Juliet, to whom every purling syllable was painfully audible, it sounded cooingly, like the voice of doves. To the surprise of the girl to whom Mark had proposed marriage two days before, when she ventured to peep through her spy window, Mark's arms were round Julia and he was kissing her ardently. But after a moment he released himself gently. "You haven't told me, dear," he said, "what you are doing here." His voice held a note of authority before which Julia's assurance vanished. "I--I wasn't doing anything," she muttered. "Julia!" he remonstrated. "Well," she said, with some show of defiance, "I suppose anyone may take a book from the library." "Of course," he said, "you may take anything of mine you want. Still, as you are not staying in the house--In short, it seems to me that the more obvious course would have been to have said something to me about it; and besides," he added, struck by a sudden thought, "how in the world did you get in? The door was locked, and the key is on the outside." "Oh, if you're going to make such a fuss about nothing," she exclaimed petulantly, her toe beginning to tap the boards, "it's not worth explaining anything to you." She turned away and walked towards the fireplace. "I'm not making a fuss," Mark said quietly, "but you must tell me, Julia, what you are doing here, and how you came. To speak plainly, I don't believe you came for a book." "If you don't believe me, what's the good of my saying anything?" she retorted. "Oh, how horrid you are to-day, Mark. I don't believe you love me a bit, any more." And leaning her head against the mantelpiece, she burst into tears. "You know it isn't that, Julia," he said, looking at her fixedly. "Don't cry, there's a dear, good girl. You know that I love you. Why, you're the only thing in the whole world that I really want. But you must tell me how you came here. Tell me," he repeated, taking her hands from her face, and forcing her to look at him, "what you want in the library. Tell me, Julia, I want to know." She seemed to struggle to keep silence, but to be unable to resist his questioning eyes. "I suppose I must tell you," she murmured; "it's not that I don't want to. But they would kill me if they knew. Oh, Mark, I ought not to tell you, but how can I keep anything secret from my beloved? Swear to me that you will never repeat it, or try to hinder me in what I have to do?" He bent and kissed her. "Julia," he said, "can't you trust me?" "I do, I do," she cried. "While you love me, I trust you. But if you left off, what then? That is the nightmare that haunts me. Mark, Mark, what would become of me if you were to change towards me?" He kissed her again, murmuring reassuring words that did not reach Juliet's ears. "So tell me now," he ended, "what you were doing here." "Mark," she said nervously, "you know where my childhood was passed?" "In St. Petersburg," he replied wonderingly.