At last he spoke, stammeringly, incoherently: "I shall try to prove myself worthy of the Lady Theodora's confidence." She seemed somewhat disappointed at the coldness of his answer, nevertheless her quick perception showed her where she had scored a point, in making an inroad upon his heart. And her critical eye could not but approve of the proud attitude he assumed, the look that had come into his face. She edged a little closer to him and continued in a subdued tone. "A woman is always lonely and helpless--no matter what may be her station. How liable we are to be deceived or--misjudged. But I knew from the first that I could trust you. Do you remember when we first met in the Navona?" Again the warm crimson of the cheek, again the speaking flash from those luring eyes. Tristan's heart began to beat with a strange sensation of excitement and surprise. To love this wonder of all women--to be loved by her in return--life would indeed be one mad delirium. "How could I forget it?" he said, more warmly than he intended, meeting her gaze. "It was on the day when I arrived in Rome." Her eyes beamed on him more benevolently than ever. "I saw you again at Santa Maria of the Aventine. I sent for you," she said, with drooping lids, "because I so wanted some one to confide in. I have no counsellor,--no champion--no friend. The object of hatred to the rabble which stones those to-day before whom it cringed yesterday--I am paying the penalty of the name I bear--kinship to one no longer among the living. But you scorned my messenger. Why did you?" She regarded Tristan with expectant, almost imploring eyes. She saw him struggling for adequate utterance. Continuing, she held out to him her beautiful hands. Her tone was all appeal. "I want you to feel that Theodora is your friend. That you may turn to her in any perplexity that may beset you, that you may call upon her for counsel whenever you are in doubt and know not what to do. And oh! I want you to know above all things how much you could be to me, did you but trust--had not the drop of poison instilled by the Senator set you against the one woman who would make you great, envied above all men on earth!" Tristan bent over Theodora's hands and kissed them. Cool and trusting, yet with a firm grasp, they encircled his burning palms and their whiteness caused his senses to reel. "In what manner can I be of service to the Lady Theodora?" he spoke at last, unable to let go of those wonderful hands that sent the hot blood hurtling to his brain. Theodora's face was very close to his. As she spoke, her perfumed breath softly fanned his cheeks. She spoke with well-studied hesitancy, like a child that, in preferring an overbold request, fears denial in the very utterance.