refuse."
"How did you know that Zertho loves me?" she suddenly inquired, turningher frank face upward to his.
"Because he has told me," he answered, in a voice low almost as awhisper. "He asked my permission to speak to you and offer youmarriage."
As he looked at her the thought flashed across his mind that he, herfather, who loved her so dearly, was deceiving her. What would she sayif she knew the truth?
"Yes," she exclaimed with a sigh, "he says that he loves me, and hasasked me to become his wife. But I have refused."
"Why?"
"Because I do not, I cannot love him, dad. Surely you would never wishme to marry a man for whom I have no affection, and in whom I have notrust." Her father held his breath and evaded her gaze. Her argumentwas unassailable. The words stabbed his tortured conscience.
"But would not the fact of your becoming Princess d'Auzac place you in aposition of independence such as thousands of women would envy?" hehazarded, again stroking her silky hair with tenderness. "You knowZertho well. He's a good fellow and would make you an excellenthusband, no doubt."
"I can never marry him," she answered, decisively.
"You will refuse his offer?" he observed, hoarsely. Her firmness wascausing him some anxiety.
"I have already refused," she replied.
Slowly he grasped her hand, and after a brief pause looked her steadilyin the face, saying--
"Liane, you must become his wife."
"I love but one man, dad, and cannot love another," she sobbedpassionately, her arms still about his neck.
"Forget him."
She remained silent a few moments; then, at last looking up with calm,inquiring gaze, asked--
"Why are you so earnestly persuading me to marry this man who is neitheryour true friend nor mine, dad? What object can you have in urging meto do what can only bring me grief and dire unhappiness?"
He made no reply. His face, she noticed, had grown hard and cold; hewas entirely unlike himself.
"I love George," she went on. "I will only marry him."
"Surely you will not ruin all your future, and mine, for his sake," heblurted forth at last.
"Your future!" she gasped, drawing away from him and regarding him withsudden surprise as the truth dawned upon her. "I see it all now! Withme as Princess d'Auzac, the wife of a wealthy man, you would neverwant."
His teeth were set. He held her small, soft hand so tightly that ithurt her. He tried to speak, but his lips refused to utter sound. Hewas persuading his daughter to wreck her young life in order to securehis own safety. The thought was revolting, yet he was forced to actthus: to stand calmly by and witness her self-sacrifice, or bear theconsequences of exposure.
He bowed his head in agony of mind. A lump rose in his throat, so thathis words were again stifled.
"My marriage would, I know, relieve you of a serious responsibility,"she went on, calmly, without any trace of reproach. "I am not unmindfulof the fact that if I married Zertho I should gain wealth and position;yet I do not love him. I--I hate him."
"He has been kind to us, and I believe he is extremely fond of you," hesaid, wincing beneath the lie that fear alone forced to his lips. "Isit not but natural that I should seek for you an improved socialposition and such wealth as will place you beyond all anxiety in future?Heaven knows that the past has been full enough of care and poverty."
"Ah! I know that, poor dad," Liane answered caressingly, in a tone ofsympathy, her arms again about his neck. "In the days gone by, becauseyou played fairly, and was never an unscrupulous sharper like Zertho,luck forsook you. They laughed at you because you cared so much for me:because you held Nelly and I aloof from the dregs of society into whichyou had fallen. You were courageous always, and never when the dayswere darkest did you relinquish hope, or did your love for me wane.Yet," and she paused, "yet if you still cared for me as once you did, Icannot but feel that you would hesitate ere you urged me to a hatefulalliance with a man I can never love."
"I am but endeavouring to secure your future happiness, Liane," heanswered, his voice sounding deep and hollow.
A silence fell, deep and impressive, broken only by the low, monotonousroar of the waves beating upon the shore outside, and the musical jingleof the bells on a pair of carriage-horses that were passing. Lianestarted as she recognised the sound. They were Zertho's. Erle Brookerwould have rather died by his own hand ere he had persuaded her to marrythis man; yet for the hundredth time he proved to himself that bysuicide he would merely leave her unprotected, while she would mostprobably afterwards learn from Zertho the terrible secret which he wasdetermined should, at all hazards, remain locked within his own troubledheart.
"To persuade me to marry the Prince is but to urge me to a doom worsethan death," she exclaimed passionately at last. "No, dad, I am sureyou would never wish me to do this when I am so contented to live as Iam with you. If we are penniless--well, I shall never complain. Itwill not be the first time that I have wanted a meal, and gone early tobed because I've been hungry. I promise I'll not complain, only do notendeavour to force me to marry Zertho. Let me remain with you."
"Alas! you cannot, my child!" he answered in a hard, dry, agonised tone,his hand trembling nervously.
"Why?"
"You must forget young Stratfield, and become Princess d'Auzac," he saidfirmly, intense anxiety betrayed upon his haggard countenance.
"Never!"
"But you must," he cried brokenly, with emphasis. "It is imperative--for my sake, Liane--you must marry him, for my sake."
CHAPTER TEN.
MASK AND DOMINO.
The world-famous Battle of Flowers had been fought in brilliant,cloudless weather along the Promenade des Anglais, and Liane ridingalone in a victoria covered with violets and stocks set off with rosebows and ribbons, had been awarded a prize-banner, while Zertho, hiscoach adorned by Marechal Niel roses and white lilac, entertained aparty, and was a conspicuous figure in the picturesque procession. Thecrowd was enormous, the number of decorated carriages greater than everbefore known, and as the contending parties, made up of people incarriages decorated with flowers and coloured ribbons, passed slowlyalong on either side of the broad drive, they kept up a brisk fire ofsmall bouquets. As they went by, the occupants of the tribunes pouredbroadsides into the carriages, and the battle raged everywhere hot andfurious. Liane, sitting alone embowered in violets, flushed with theexcitement of throwing handfuls of flowers at all and sundry, foundherself more than once in the very thick of the fray and was pelteduntil her hair escaped from its pins and she felt herself horriblyuntidy.
Brooker had excused himself from forming one of Zertho's party and hadgone for a long walk into the country; but that night he reluctantlyaccompanied them to the great Veglione at the Opera, where all were ingrotesque costume, both Zertho and himself wearing hideous masks withenormous red noses, while Liane was attired in the beautiful costume ofan odalisque, which, at Zertho's desire, had been specially made for herin Paris. Folly reigned supreme in that whirlwind of light and colour,and although dancing was almost impossible in consequence of the crowdedstate of the beautifully decorated theatre, yet the fun was always fastand furious, and the first saffron streak had already showed over thegrey misty sea before they entered their carriage to drive homeward.
Variety had now become Liane's very life, excitement the source andsustenance of her existence. Within the few days which had elapsedsince the evening when her father had urged her to marry Zertho acomplete change had come upon her. No longer was she dull, dreamy, andapathetic, but eager to embrace any opportunity whereby her thoughtsmight be turned from the one subject which preyed upon her mind. Sheentered thoroughly into the Carnival fun and frolic, and Zertho,believing that her gaiety arose from contentment, felt flattered,congratulating himself that after all she was not so averse to hiscompanionship as he had once believed. Knowing nothing of love orsentiment he had no suspicion that her bright amused smile masked aweary bittern
ess, or that, after dancing half the night radiant andhappy, and charming the hearts of men with her light coquetry, she wouldreturn to the silence of her own room before the wave-beaten shore, andthere lie weeping for hours, murmuring the name of the man she loved.So skilfully did she conceal the poignant sorrow wearing out her heartthat none but her father detected it, and he, sighing within himself,made no remark.
Through the warm sunny reign of King Carnival Zertho and his handsomecompanion were prominent figures everywhere, although the Captain, whohad grown as dull and dispirited as his daughter had become gay andreckless, seldom accompanied them. Since that night when beside the seaZertho had told her of his love, he had not again mentioned the subject,although they were