"I thought you had forgiven my--my folly," she goes on further, with a killing glance from the long-lashed, seraphic-blue eyes. "I hope I have," he replies, still coldly. "Then why--why will you refuse my request?" she asks. Something like scorn flashes on her from the man's sapphire-blue eyes. "Miss Langton, I have forgiven the indignity you put upon me last summer," he answers, shortly, "but do you think I could stoop to serve you--_you_?" The heiress colors under his glance of haughty scorn. "_You_ will never forget _that_," she sighs. "You will not believe how eager I am to make atonement for my sin against you. I see you are determined to be hard and cold with me. You will not make friends." Vane turns round upon her a little fiercely. "What are you driving at, Maud?" he asks, with positive rudeness. "Do you wish to make a fool of me again? To win my heart from me again and trample it under your feet?" And then a sudden impulsive shame seizes upon him as she shrinks before his quick wrath with something very like fear in her face. "I beg your pardon--I was talking foolishly to you," he says. "You do not at all understand me, I think, Miss Langton, or you would never have----" "Never have come here, you mean," she says, as he pauses. "Aren't you just a little rude, Mr. Charteris? But I am determined not to be angry with you. Forgive me for trespassing on your time. I am going now." Swish! goes the rich silk against her chair with a waft of delicious perfume. The tips of her gloved fingers settle lightly against his coat-sleeve, the great, blue eyes look straight into his own, persuasively. "Vane, think better of your refusal, pray do," she says. "I did not come here to insult you, neither to wheedle you back to your old allegiance. I thought you would help me about this great, troublesome property. I am so ignorant and helpless." "Any lawyer in the city would be glad to manage your business for you," he returns, with cool courtesy. "I shall not ask any of them till I hear from you again. Perhaps you may change your mind, and let me know that you will take this trouble off my hands," she answers, good humoredly, moving toward the door. Vane attends her to her carriage, and with a formal bow returns to his lonely office. How lonely he never quite realized till now, looking at the empty chair where the brilliant heiress had sat just now, queenly and graceful like the tall, white lily to which he had once likened her. CHAPTER XXI. We will return to Reine Charteris on that terrible night of fire and flood, when, with all the deathless devotion of a true woman's heart she sacrificed herself to save her husband and her friend. In the minute before the life-boat came into sight Reine's mind had been comparatively calm and contented. Though she believed that certain death stared her in the face, it had no special terrors for her. Her life had been good and pure, and she had no dread of the hereafter.