If Sinners Entice Thee Part 14

"You hated them once, I remember," he observed, with a smile, pausing to light a cigarette.

"Ah! that was in the evil days. One's enjoyment is always gauged by one's pocket."

"Then according to that theory I ought to have a larger measure of this world's pleasures than the majority of people--eh?"

"You have."

"Ah, no, Liane," he sighed, becoming suddenly grave. "True, I have wealth, a house in Brussels, an estate in Luxembourg, a yacht in yonder port, and a villa here upon this promenade, yet there is one thing I lack to render my happiness complete."

"What's that?" she asked, rather surprised at the unusual tone of sadness in his voice. Her smiling lips suddenly quivered with a momentary dread--a dread of something she could not quite define.

He had paused at one of the seats at the end of the plage, and with a alight courteous wave of the hand invited her to sit. Slowly she did as she was bid, and awaited his reply.

"I have not yet found any woman to sufficiently care for me," he answered at last, in a quiet impressive tone.

"You will surely have no difficulty," she said with a strange ring in her voice. She had not suspected that he possessed a grain of sentiment, for long ago she had noticed that he was entirely unimpressionable where the charms of women were concerned.

His manner suddenly changed. He sank into the seat beside her, saying,--

"There is something, Liane, I want to say to you I've said it so often to myself that I feel as if you must know it." She sat quite still. He had grasped her small hand in his, and she let him keep it, questioning his face with a bewildered gaze. "You must know--you must have guessed--"

She turned pale, but outwardly quelled the panic that sent the blood to her heart. "I must tell you the truth now--I love you."

With a sudden movement she freed her hand and drew away from him.

"Me!" she gasped. Whatever potential complicity had lurked in her heart, his words brought her only immeasurable dismay.

He bent towards her again. "Yes, you!"

She felt his hot breath upon her cheek, and put up her hand with imploring gesture. He looked at her with almost frenzied admiration, as if it were only with fierce resolve that he restrained himself from seizing her in his arms and closing her mouth with burning kisses. His whole frame quivered in the fury of repressed excitement, insomuch that she shrank from him with involuntary terror.

"Can't you tell me what it is that makes me repugnant to you?" he asked quickly.

"You are not repugnant at all," she faltered hoa.r.s.ely. "You are not repugnant, only--I am indifferent."

"You mean that you don't care about me one way or the other."

She shut her lips tight. Hers was not a nature so pa.s.sionate as that of most Southerns, but a loving one; feeling with her was not a single simple emotion, but a complicated one of many impulses--of self-diffidences, of deep, strange aspirations that she herself could scarcely understand--a woman's pride, the delight of companions.h.i.+p and sympathy and of the guidance of a stronger will; a longing for better things. All these things were there. But beside them were thoughts of the man she had vowed she loved, the man who was ruined and who could not for years hope to make her his wife. She looked at the glittering moonlit sea, with the light steadily burning in the far distance at Antibes, but no answer escaped her lips. The silence of night was complete save for the rhythmic swish of the waves at their feet.

At last, after a long pause, her words came again, shudderingly, "Oh, what have you done?"

"By Heaven!" he said, with a vague smile, "I don't know. I hope no harm."

"Oh, don't laugh!" she cried, laughing hysterically herself. "Unless you want me to think you the greatest wretch in the world."

"I?" he responded. "What do you mean?"

"You know you are fooling me," she answered reproachfully. "You cannot put your hand on your heart and swear that you actually love me."

A quick look of displeasure crossed his face, but his back was towards the moon and she did not notice it.

"Yes--yes, I can--I will," he answered. "You must have known it, Liane.

I've been abrupt, I know, and I've startled you, but if you love me you must attribute that to my loving you so long before I have spoken."

Her troubled breast heaved and fell beneath her rich fur. She gazed at him with parted lips.

"It is a question from me to you," he went on, "the question of my life."

"No, don't think so," she protested, "please, don't ask it."

"Then don't answer it, Liane. Wait--let me wait. Ask yourself--"

"I know my own mind already," she said slowly, with earnestness; then perceiving, as suddenly as she had all the rest, how considered her a.s.sertion might appear, she went on, still with the quietness of clear-seeing and truth-telling: "things come clear in an instant. This does, that I could not have thought of. I am already betrothed to another; that is why I cannot accept."

"You can't expect me to be satisfied with that," he answered. "I, who know myself, and who see you as you do not see yourself. It is I who ask: who want to take a great gift. I am not offering myself," he went on rapidly. "I am beseeching yourself--of you."

"I have not myself to give," she said calmly.

"You mean you love someone else," he said, with a hardness about the corners of his mouth.

"Yes," and the long eyelashes swept downward as she answered.

But Zertho paid no attention to her reply. "During the years I have known you, Liane," he went on, "the thought of you has been as a safeguard against my total disbelief in the possibility of woman's fidelity. I knew then that I revered you with my better self all the while--that, young as you were, I believed in you. I believe in you now. Be my wife, and from this instant I will devote all the love in me--and I have more than you think--to you alone."

"Prince Zertho," she said, in honest distress, "I beg you won't go on!

I respect your devotion and your kindness, and I don't want to inflict any hurt upon you; but oh! indeed, you must not ask this."

"Very well," he said sadly, rising to his feet. "Let it all be. I will not despair. You know now that I love you, and ere long I shall ask you again as I have asked. Defer your answer until then."

"Let us go back," she urged, s.h.i.+vering as she rose. "The wind has grown cold;" and in silence they together retraced their steps along the deserted Promenade.

An hour later, when Liane had gone to her room, the Captain, at Zertho's request, walked along to the Villa Chevrier, and found his friend awaiting him in the handsome salon.

When the servant closed the door the Prince was the first to speak.

"To-night I have asked Liane to become my wife," he said harshly, standing with his hands in his pockets.

"Well?"

"She refuses."

"As I expected," answered her father coldly.

"As you wish, you mean," retorted Zertho.

"I have already explained my views," the other answered, in a deep strained voice.

"From her att.i.tude it is evident that you have not spoken to her, as we arranged," said the other angrily.