Prue was at home in every corner of Marlborough House, and had no difficulty in piloting her companions into a cool, dim-lighted conservatory, where the sound of voices and music reached the ear agreeably softened by distance. "Every one has seen me," said Peggie; "I’ll get rid of this sheepskin, and then I can dance." "Peggie would rather dance than eat, sleep or go to church," remarked Prue, seating herself and making a little, half-hesitating, half-inviting movement toward the seat beside her. Robin was not slow in availing himself of the opportunity. There was something in Prue’s manner that allured him, while it kept him at a distance. He longed to take her in his arms as he had done once; yet he dared not touch her hand. "I am glad to have an opportunity of speaking to you," she said, removing her mask. "You sent me something to-day—" "Yes—oh! you don’t know how happy you have made me by wearing them," he said earnestly. "Ah! yes," she started and looked down at the gloves; "they are beautiful—just the very thing for my dress, too. But that was not what I meant." A deep flush burned his face under the mask. "I beg and implore you not to speak of anything else I sent," he said, in a low, tremulous voice. "Let me deceive myself into the belief that you acknowledge _that_, at least, as my rightful privilege." She raised her lovely eyes to his with a puzzled expression, then dropped them, a little embarrassed. "We will not discuss that," she said, "but unfortunately I can not avoid speaking about the money, because—you see, I can not help knowing that you—that perhaps—that perhaps it honestly belongs to somebody else and you have no right to give it to me. There!" She looked apprehensively at him, fearing an outburst of rage, but he was quite calm, and the mask concealed any change of countenance. "You are very scrupulous," he said coldly. "Oh! I know you had no reason to expect honesty from me!" she exclaimed, with a touch of temper in her voice. "But when you threw your purse to me in the carriage, I had no opportunity of returning it and I never expected to see you again. Besides, you took mine and—and—" She glanced at him out of the tail of her eye, but he did not accept the challenge. "You think, perhaps," she went on, quite angrily now, "that I have done a much worse thing for money than ever you did; but if I have married a robber—" "Stop, stop!" he said authoritatively. "If you must say these things about yourself, it shall not be to me. Insult _me_ as much as you please, but do not accuse me of daring to blame you for anything you have done, or could do. Tell me, if I assure you that that money is my very own, will you take my word for it?" She hesitated and softened. "Tell me truly—in what way your own? Do not fear to trust me."