"I do not know how I shall dare to ask this great sacrifice of him,"
said she, in a low tone. "True, he risked his life for d'Azay, but that
is not so great a sacrifice as to marry a woman he does not love."

"I think he does love you still," said Mr. Morris, very gently. "He is
not like some of us--he is not one to forget easily. He is silent and
constant. He has told me that he loved you."

But she only shook her head. "I have no hope that he loves me still."

"Shall I tell him of this strange plan, of the cruel position you find
yourself in? I can prepare him----"

"No," she said, in a low tone, "I--I will see him myself and at once."

She sat quiet and thoughtful for the rest of the drive until the coach
drew up before the Legation. After the first fear and despair had
passed, a wave of happiness swept over her that made her blush and then
pale as it ebbed. Perhaps, after all, his love for her might not be
dead; at all events a curious fate had brought it about that she should
see him again and hear him speak and learn for herself if he loved her.
She remembered, with a sudden shock, the words she had spoken at
Azay-le-Roi--that should she change her mind it would be she who would
ask him to marry her. She could have laughed aloud with joy to think
that fate had played her such a trick. She remembered with a sort of
shamed wonder the proud condescension with which she had treated him.
She felt now as if she could fling herself before him on her knees and
beg him to give her back his love. But did he still love her? At the
thought an icy pang of apprehension and fear seized her, and her heart