determination to accept the bargain, for her little brother Mirko's
sake.

She glanced at Lord Tancred as he entered. Count Ladislaus Shulski had
been a very handsome man, too. She did not know enough of the English
type to judge of Lord Tancred morally. She only saw that he was a
splendid, physical creature who would be strong--and horrible
probably--like the rest.

The whole expression of her face changed as he came and leaned upon the
piano. The sorrow died out of her eyes and was replaced by a fierce
defiance; and her fingers broke into a tarantella of wild sounds.

"You strange woman!" Lord Tancred said.

"Am I strange?" she answered through her teeth. "It is said by those who
know that we are all mad--at some time and at some point. I have, I
think, reason to be mad to-night." And with that she crashed a final
chord, rose from her seat, and crossed the room.

"I hope, Uncle Francis, your guests will excuse me," she said, with an
imperial, aloof politeness, "but I am very tired. I will wish you all a
good-night." She bowed to them as they expressed their regrets, and then
slowly left the room.

"Goodnight, madame," Lord Tancred said, at the door. "Some day you and I
will cross swords."

But he was rewarded by no word, only an annihilating glance from her
sullen eyes, and he stood there and gazed at her as she passed up the