"You are not well," I cried, in concern. "What ails you?" "Nothing!" she gasped. "It is nothing. In a few minutes it will pass." Then she added, as if on second thought, "Perhaps it was your stairs. The lift is out of order." And she rested her head upon the back of the chair and looked up at me with pitying eyes. All life had apparently gone out of her beautiful face. That vivacity that had attracted me had given place to a deep, thoughtful look, as though she were in momentary fear. Her face seemed blanched to the lips. "May I get you something?" I asked. "Let me give you some brandy," and taking the bottle from the tantalus I gave her a liqueur-glass full of cognac, which she swallowed at one gulp. "Why have you not called before?" I inquired, when, at length, she grew less agitated. "I have expected you daily for so long." "I've been away in the country," she answered. "But do not think that I have not remembered you." "Nearly three weeks have gone by since you were last here," I said. "It is too cruel of you not to allow me to write to you." "No," she said decisively, "you must not write. You have already promised me, and I know you will not break any compact you make." "But I love you, Aline," I whispered, bending forward to her. "Yes, alas! I know that," she responded, rousing herself. "Yet, why carry this folly further?" "Folly you call it?" I exclaimed regretfully. "Because you cannot love me in return you tell me I am foolish. Since you have been absent I have examined my own heart, and I swear that my love is more than mere admiration. I think of no one in the world besides yourself." "No, no," she said uneasily. "There is some other woman whom you could love far better, a woman who would make you a true and faithful wife." "But I can love no one else." "Try," she answered, looking me straight in the face. "Before we met you loved one who reciprocated your affection." "Who?" "You wish me to tell you?" she replied in a hard, bitter tone. "Surely you cannot affect ignorance that you are loved by Muriel Moore?" "Muriel!" I gasped in amazement. "How did you know?" She smiled. "There is but little that escapes me," she answered. "You loved each other before our romantic meeting, and I, the woman who must necessarily bring evil upon you, have come to separate you. Yet you calmly stand by and invite me to wreck your life! Ah! you cannot know who I am, or you would cast me from your thoughts for over." "Then who are you?" I blurted forth, in blank amazement. "I have already told you. You have, of your own free will, united yourself with me by a declaration of love, and the consequences are therefore upon your own head." "Cannot you love like other women?" I demanded. "Have you no heart, no feeling, no soul?"