faded; they were now dull and leaden.
"At last!" I cried happily. "I am so glad you've come, for I've waitedso long, Aline."
She allowed her hand to rest in mine, then sank wearily into my armchairwithout a word.
"You are not well," I cried, in concern. "What ails you?"
"Nothing!" she gasped. "It is nothing. In a few minutes it will pass."Then she added, as if on second thought, "Perhaps it was your stairs.The lift is out of order." And she rested her head upon the back of thechair and looked up at me with pitying eyes.
All life had apparently gone out of her beautiful face. That vivacitythat had attracted me had given place to a deep, thoughtful look, asthough she were in momentary fear. Her face seemed blanched to thelips.
"May I get you something?" I asked. "Let me give you some brandy," andtaking the bottle from the tantalus I gave her a liqueur-glass full ofcognac, which she swallowed at one gulp.
"Why have you not called before?" I inquired, when, at length, she grewless agitated. "I have expected you daily for so long."
"I've been away in the country," she answered. "But do not think that Ihave not remembered you."
"Nearly three weeks have gone by since you were last here," I said. "Itis too cruel of you not to allow me to write to you."
"No," she said decisively, "you must not write. You have alreadypromised me, and I know you will not break any compact you make."
"But I love you, Aline," I whispered, bending forward to her.
"Yes, alas! I know that," she responded, rousing herself. "Yet, whycarry this folly further?"
"Folly you call it?" I exclaimed regretfully. "Because you cannot loveme in return you tell me I am foolish. Since you have been absent Ihave examined my own heart, and I swear that my love is more than mereadmiration. I think of no one in the world besides yourself."
"No, no," she said uneasily. "There is some other woman whom you couldlove far better, a woman who would make you a true and faithful wife."
"But I can love no one else."
"Try," she answered, looking me straight in the face. "Before we metyou loved one who reciprocated your affection."
"Who?"
"You wish me to tell you?" she replied in a hard, bitter tone. "Surelyyou cannot affect ignorance that you are loved by Muriel Moore?"
"Muriel!" I gasped in amazement. "How did you know?"
She smiled.
"There is but little that escapes me," she answered. "You loved eachother before our romantic meeting, and I, the woman who must necessarilybring evil upon you, have come to separate you. Yet you calmly stand byand invite me to wreck your life! Ah! you cannot know who I am, or youwould cast me from your thoughts for over."
"Then who are you?" I blurted forth, in blank amazement.
"I have already told you. You have, of your own free will, unitedyourself with me by a declaration of love, and the consequences aretherefore upon your own head."
"Cannot you love like other women?" I demanded. "Have you no heart, nofeeling, no soul?"
"No," she sighed. "Love is forbidden me. Hatred takes its place; afierce, deadly hatred, in which vengeance is untempered by justice, andfatality is always inevitable. Now that I confess, will you not cast measide? I have come here to you to urge you to do this ere it is toolate."
"You speak so strangely that I'm bewildered," I declared. "I have toldyou of my love, and will not relinquish you."
"But for the sake of the woman who loves you. She will break herheart."
"Muriel does not love me," I answered. "I have spoken no word ofaffection to her. We were friends--that is all."
"Reflect! Is it possible for a girl in such a position as Muriel Mooreto be your friend without loving you! You are wealthy, she is poor.You give her dinners with champagne at the gayest restaurants; you takeher to stalls at theatres, or to a box at the Alhambra; you invite herto these rooms, where she drinks tea, and plays your piano; and it isall so different from her humdrum life at Madame Gabrielle's. Placeyourself for one moment in her position, with a salary of ten shillingsa-week and dresses provided by the establishment, leading a life ofwearying monotony from nine in the morning till seven at night, tryingon bonnets, and persuading ignorant, inartistic women to buy your wares.Would you not be flattered, nay, dazzled, by all these attentions whichyou show her? Would you not become convinced that your admirer lovedyou if he troubled himself so much about you?"
Her argument was plain and forcible. I had never regarded the matter inthat light.
"Really, Aline," I said, "I'm beginning to think that you are possessedof some power that is supernatural."
She laughed--a laugh that sounded strangely hollow.
"I tell you this--I argue with you for your own sake, to save you fromthe danger which now encompasses you. I would be your protector becauseyou trust me so implicitly, only that is impossible."
In an instant I recollected her declaration to her bony-faced companionin the Park. Had she actually resolved to kill me?
"Why should I relinquish you in favour of one for whom I have noaffection?" I argued.
"Why should you kiss the hand that must smite you?" she asked.
Her lips were bloodless; her face of ashen pallor.
"You are not yourself to-day," I said. "It is not usual for a woman whois loved to speak as you speak. The love of a man is usually flatteringto a woman."
"I have come to save you, and have spoken plainly."
"What, then, have I done that I deserve punishment?" I inquired inbreathless eagerness.
"You love me."
"Surely the simple offence of being your lover is not punishable bydeath?"
"Alas! it is," she answered hoarsely. "Compelled as I am to preserve mysecret, I cannot explain to you. Yet, if I could, the facts would proveso astounding that you would refuse to believe them. Only the graves ofthose who have loved me--some of them nameless--are sufficient proof ofthe fatality I bring upon those whom my beauty entrances."
She raised her head, and her eyes encountered a photograph standing on atable in the window. It was Roddy's.
"See there!" she said, starting, raising her hand and pointing to it."Like yourself, that man loved me, and has paid the penalty. He diedabroad."
"No," I replied quickly. "You are mistaken. That picture is theportrait of a friend; and he's certainly not dead, for he was heresmoking with me last night."
"Not dead!" she cried, starting up and crossing to it. "Why, he died atMonte Carlo. He committed suicide after losing all he had."
"No," I replied, rather amused. "That is the Honourable RoderickMorgan, member of Parliament."
"Yes, that was the name," she said aloud to herself. "Roddy Morgan theycalled him. He lost seven thousand pounds in one day at roulette."
"He has never to my knowledge been to Monte Carlo," I observed, standingbeside her.
"You've not always accompanied him everywhere he has been, I presume?"she said.
"No, but had he been to Monte Carlo he would certainly have told me."
"Men do not care to speak of losses when they are as absurdly recklessas he was."
The idea that Roddy had committed suicide at Monte Carlo seemed utterlyabsurd, nevertheless in order to convince her that he was still verymuch alive I picked up the paper and pointed to his name in theParliamentary debate of the previous night.
"It is strange, very strange!" she said, reflecting. "I was in theRooms when he shot himself. While sitting at one of the tables I sawthem carry him away dead."
"You must have made some mistake," I suggested.
"I was playing at the same table, and he continued to love me, althoughI had warned him of the consequences, as I have now warned you. He lostand lost. Each time he played he lost, till every farthing he possessedhad gone. Then I turned away, but ere I had left the room there was thesound of a pistol-shot, and he fell across the table dead."
She had the photograph in her hand, an
d bent to the light, examining itclosely.
"It cannot be the same man," I said.
"Yes, it is," she responded. "There can be no mistake, for the ringwhich secures his cravat is mine. I gave it to him."
I looked, and there sure enough was an antique ring of curious pattern,through which his soft scarf was threaded.
"It is Etruscan," she said. "I picked it up in a shop in Bologna."
I glanced quickly at her. Her face