room Crystal remained where she was sitting on the low stoo

ile ago, and the high colour in her cheeks, the tremor of her nostrils showed that that same enthusiasm

almer resignation of the potential martyr. Gradually the colour faded from her cheeks, the light died slowly out of her eyes,

es. Despite her proud profession of faith the insistent longing for happiness

ish tear, not even to her would she show what it cost her to sink her individuality, her longings, her hopes of happines

through twenty years of misery, akin to squalor, the remembrance of which would for ever darken the rest of his life, but he had endured all that without bitterness, scarcely without a murmur. And now that twenty years of self-abnegation were at last finding their reward, now that the King had come into his own, and the King's faith

douairière d'Agen, and through that upbringing she had been made to imbibe from her earliest childhood all the principles of the old regime. These principles consisted chiefl

t she could have the right to order her own future, or

t makes men and women accept the inevitable with set teeth and a determination to do the right thing even if it hurts. Crystal, therefore, had no thought of rebellion; she only felt an infinity of regret for something sweet and intangible which she had hardly realised, hardly expected, which had been too elusive to be called hope, too remote to b

et, arranged her hair in front of the mirror, and feeling that her eyes were hot and her h

there was a slight feeling of spring in the air, the bare branches of the trees seemed swollen with the rising

od. It was so strange to look on these big evergreen trees and on the havoc caused by weeds and weather on the fine carving of the fountain, and to think of their going on here year after year for the past twenty years, while that hideous revolution had devastated the whole country, while men had murdered each other, slaughtered women and children and committed every crime and every infam

hateau with its lichen-covered walls, its fine portcullis and crenelated towers, she had wept over the torn tapestries, the broken furniture, the family portraits which a rough and impious rabble had wilfully damaged, she had loved the wide sweep of the terrace wal

urious after the manner of his kind, had followed her and was fl

yst

hrough the trees, so softly had her name been spoke

yst

for she knew who it was that had called and she would not allow surprise to resuscitate the outward signs of regret. But she stood quite still whil

arest stone seat, and she sank down upon it, still try

ome semblance of composure on the half-sitting, half-kneeling figure of the young man beside her

rated pleadingly, "you must k

protested passionately. "Crystal, if you real

for me. Can't you see," she added more vehemently, "that every time you come you make me more wretched, and my duty seem mo

er is so heartless . .

was for him to give his consent to our marriage even if he knew that my happiness was bounded by your love. . . . Jus

e in exile as he did? Have I not made sacrifices for my king and for my ideals? Why should I suffer in the future as well as in the past? Why, because my king is powerless or supine in giving me back what was filched from my father, should that be taken from me which alone gives me incentive to live . . . you, Crystal," he added as once again he knelt beside her. He encircled her shoulders with his arms, then he seized her two hands and covered them with kisses. "You are all that I want in this world.

ame to his eyes and he buried his head in the folds of Crystal's white gown and heavy sobs shook his bent shoulders. She, moved by that motherly tenderness which is seldom absent from a good woman's

the facts, Maurice, against which no hot-blooded argument, no passionate outbursts can prevail. The King gave my father back this dear old castle, because it happened to have proved unsaleable, and was still on the nation's hands. Our rich lands-like yours-can never be restored to us: that hard fact has been driven into poor father's head for the past ten months, and now it has gone home at last. These grey walls, this neglected garden, a few sticks of broken furniture, a handful of money from an over-generous king's treasury is all that Fate has rescued for him from out the ashes of the past. My f

and!" retorted Maurice de St. Genis hotly. "Oh! it's monstrous, Crystal, monstrous! A

ften before now been sacrificed for the honour of their name. Men have been accustomed

Crystal, to be sold li

y, "and after all that he has suffered for the honour and dignity of our name,

good-looking face appeared sombre and sullen, his restless, dark eyes wandered obstinately from Crystal's fair bent head to her stooping shoulders, to her hands, to her feet. It

undulating lands of Dauphiné and Savoie to where in the far distant sky the stately Alps re

your last wo

eply. "My marriage contract will be signed to-night, a

ar your love for me

es

er, you could not do it, Crystal. But they are n

were tendrils of affection in her that bound her, ivylike, and so closely-to her father that even her girlish love for Maurice de St. Gen

l," said Maurice with a sigh, seeing that obviously

oing away?

will have claims upon you which, if he exercised them before me would make me wis

will

he devil, I don't know w

once again the tears were very insistent, and she felt an awful pain

a home when I was homeless, but it is not fitting tha

u made a

ome fighting now . . . there was a rumour in Grenoble last night

sual, I suppose," sh

s," he

twitter of birds wakening to the call of spring. The word "good-bye" remained uns

n pitiable pleading, "we only make each other hopeless

th every word he spoke, "I wish I could have left this house altogether-now-at once-but your father would resent it-and he has been so kind . . . I wish I

e exclaimed r

bear every blow which fate chooses to deal to us. They have taken everything from us, these new men-our lives, our lands, our

say that had not been said?-save that unspok

u for the last

she replied,

urged. "You are not pli

ly-not till to

. . ma

e," she sai

hand

to him and he with his usual impulsiveness covered it with kis

ong and firm stride down the avenue. Crystal watched his retreating fi

ring upon her hands. With Maurice's figure disappearing down the dark avenue, with the echo of his footsteps dying

ring in the air had vanished. It was just a bleak grey winter's day now. Crystal felt herself shivering with cold. She drew her shawl more closely