unaware of the desire. She wondered vaguely--was it then very
wicked to make love, since Sasha, too, like Eustace, seemed as if
he were resisting something with all his strength? And
unconsciously she pouted her red underlip, and Count Roumovski
moved convulsively.

"My sister's room is next to this," he said, "and yours is beyond.
I have had only roses put there, because you are like a sweet June
rose."

"Am I?" said Miss Rawson, and raised her head. She had grown
extremely excited and disappointed, and, she knew not what, only
that she did not like this new lover of hers to be sitting there
constrained and aloof, talking in a stiff voice unlike his usual
easy grace. It was perfectly ridiculous to have run away with some
one with whom she was passionately in love, if he were going to
remain as cold as ice!

She got up and took a rose from a vase and fastened it in her
dress. The whole movement and action had the unconscious coquetry
of a woman's methods to gain her end. Totally unaccustomed as
Stella was to all artifices, instinct was her teacher.

Sasha Roumovski rose suddenly.

"Come and sit here beside me again, heart of mine," he commanded
with imperious love, and indicated the stiff Louis XIV sofa. "I
must explain everything to you, it would seem."

Stella had never heard this tone in his voice before; it caused