"I--I was rude to you just now," she stammered. "I beg your pardon for it. I--I really don't know why I was so. I don't dislike you, indeed, and I think you are very nice. I have enjoyed the chair and the books, and I have been sorry ever since that day when I came down to the steamer and did not wait for you. But--somehow--it was very hard to tell you so." She had spoken every word with a delightful shyness, and after a pause, she went on, with a catch in her breath: "As for your being poor, I never thought of that--never. I think poor men are the nicest--always. They are handsomer than the rich ones. I--" She caught her breath with a gasp. He had turned around quickly and caught her hand. "Miss West--" he was beginning to say, when a sudden step sounded beside them. Lieutenant De Vere had come up to them. There was a sudden glitter in his brown eyes--a jealous gleam. "I beg your pardon. Are you and Miss West rehearsing for private theatricals?" he asked, with a slight sarcastic inflection. Lancaster looked intensely annoyed; Leonora only laughed. "Yes," she said. "Do you not think that I should make a good actress, Lieutenant De Vere?" "Yes," he replied, "and Lancaster would make a good actor. 'One man in his time plays many parts.'" Lancaster looked at him with a lightning gleam in his blue eyes. There was a superb scorn in them. "Thank you," he replied. "And to carry out your idea, I will now make my exit." He bowed royally and walked away. De Vere laughed uneasily; Leonora had coolly gone back to her book. His eyes flashed. "If anyone had told me this, I should not have believed it," he muttered. "Ah! it was well to lecture me and get the game into his own hands. Beggar! what could he give her, even if she bestowed her matchless self upon him--what but a barren honor, an empty title? Ah, well! false friend, I know all now," he hissed angrily to himself. CHAPTER XV. Leonora, apparently absorbed in her book, watched her exasperated admirer curiously under her long, shady lashes. She divined intuitively that he was bitterly jealous of his handsome friend. "Have I stirred up strife between them?" she asked herself, uneasily. "That will never do. I must carry the olive branch to the distrustful friend." She glanced around, and seeing that Lancaster was not in sight, called gently: "Lieutenant De Vere!" He hurried toward her, and stood in grim silence awaiting her pleasure. "I--want to speak to you," she said. There was a vacant chair near at hand. He brought it and sat down by her side. "I am at your service, Miss West," he said, stiffly.