A triumphant glory flashed in her eyes--her red lips parted in a
ravishing smile.

"You cannot help it!" she repeated--"That little white lady--that
friend of yours whom you hate and love at the same time!--she told
me I was 'quite beautiful!' I know I am!--and you know it too!"

He bent his eyes upon her gravely.

"I have always known it--yes!"--he said, then paused--"Dear child,
beauty is nothing--"

She made a swift step towards him and laid a hand on his arm. Her
ardent, glowing face was next to his.

"You speak not truly!" and her voice was tremulous--"To a man it is
everything!"

Her physical fascination was magnetic, and for a moment he had some
trouble to resist its spell. Very gently he put an arm round her,--
and with a tender delicacy of touch unfastened the rose she wore at
her bosom.

"There, dear!" he said--"I will keep this with me for company! It is
like you--except that it doesn't talk and doesn't ask for love--"

"It has it without asking!" she murmured.

He smiled.