"I think your visit has lasted long enough," says Lady Jean coldly. "As I told you before, I have to be doubly careful of _les convenances_; I am glad you did not give your name. And please do not call again until I send you word." "You have grown mighty particular all of a sudden," exclaimed Sir Francis angrily. "Why the deuce shouldn't I call if I please? We are old friends, and surely----" "Oh, certainly we are old friends," says Lady Jean maliciously. "But you see it behoves me to be careful. I have my future prospects to consider." "Jean! You are not in earnest, you are only trying me?" "_Mon cher_, I was never more in earnest in my life. I am not going to be a martyr to one man's misguided rashness, or another's selfish passion. Not I indeed. _Ce n'est pas mon métier_. No; I shall do the best for myself, as I have said before; and you will be magnanimous, I know, and permit the--sacrifice." "I don't know so much about that," says Sir Francis, an evil light gleaming in his eyes. "You are too much to me for me ever to yield you up to another man. Of course before--well, that could not be helped. But now----" "Now," says Lady Jean, with her cold smile, "you have learnt that to _respect_ a woman is better than to love her. I only wish to follow your good example. I should like to be able to--respect--a man." "Then by all means don't marry one," retorts Sir Francis. "But, joking apart, Jean, you are not serious? You are not going to throw me off in this fashion?" "I said nothing about 'throwing off.' I only said it behoved me to be careful--doubly careful; and if you come to see me now, you must come with--your wife." "My wife!" He stares at her stupidly. "Certainly. As a widow I cannot receive constant visits from married men unaccompanied by their wives. It would never do. I cannot suffer you to humiliate me; I care too much for--myself!" "I wish to heaven I could understand you," mutters Sir Francis. "Well, at all events, for a year, you can't carry out your threat." She has him in such complete subjugation that he does not bluster or insist as with a weak-minded woman he would have done. Lady Jean has always ruled him with a strong hand, as a bad woman will often rule a man who yet owes her no fidelity, and has for her no respect. "I may never carry it out," she says, with a sudden softening of her voice. "Perhaps, after all, I--love--you too well, though you don't believe it. But, as I said before, of what use--of what use?" His brow clears, his anger melts. "If I could only believe you!" he says. "Ah!" she answers, with humility, "if I had loved _myself_ better than you, I, too, might have had your respect. But I was not wise enough to be selfish." "For your love I would forfeit any other consideration!" he cries impetuously. "You know that well enough. Whatever you desire, I will do it; only don't forsake me."