Presently she opened them, and met his anxious gaze. "No, I did not faint," she said. "But, why I know not, that sense of blankness and dizziness always comes over me when I speak on that subject. There is something I wish, yet dread, to remember--but, just as I am on the point of grasping it, there is a blank." "Do not speak of that time," he said passionately. "I hate to think you were the wife of that man--it was sacrilege... you--my pure-souled goddess." "He was a bad man," she said. "But, up to a certain point, I could always escape and defy him. He was a coward at heart, and he was afraid of me." Then suddenly she stretched out her arm and touched his shoulder with a timid, caressing movement. "You need not be jealous of those years, my beloved," she said softly. "No man would, who knew them and valued them for what they were to me." He sank on his knees, and folded his arms about her. "Ah, queen of mine," he said, "it is only natural that I should be jealous of the lightest touch, or look, or word, that were once another's privilege. Therein lies the only sting in my happiness--" "Does not that prove it is of earth--earthly?" she said, as her deep mournful eyes looked back to his own. "I believe, Julian, it would be better, even now, if we were to part. I have always that dread upon my soul, that I am destined to bring you suffering--misfortune--" "Bring me what you will," he interrupted passionately, "but do not speak of parting! Rather suffering and trial at your hands, oh, my life's love, than the greatest peace and prosperity from any other woman's!" "I wish you loved me less," she said sadly. "But I am not forbidden to accept your love now; only, I have warned you, do not forget. And now--" she added suddenly: "Put me to sleep... it is so long, so long, since I have known real rest, such as you used to give me." He rose slowly and stood beside her, as she nestled back amidst her cushions. A strange calm and chill seemed to fold him in its peace, and the throbbing fires of pain and longing died slowly out of vein and pulse. He laid one hand gently on the beautiful white brow; his eyes met hers, and the glance seemed like a command. The lids drooped, the long, soft lashes fell like a fringe on the delicate, flushed cheek. One long, sobbing breath left her lips; then a beautiful serenity and calm seemed to enfold her. Like a statue, she lay there, motionless, stirless; lifeless, one would have thought, save for the faint regular breath that stole forth from the parted lips. Julian Estcourt stood for a moment in perfect silence by her side. Then he moved away, and, drawing aside the _portieres_ which separated the boudoir from the adjoining room, he called softly to her maid. "Felicie," he said, "your mistress will sleep for two hours; see that she is not disturbed." ------------------------------------------------------------------------