At Love's Cost

She regarded him with some surprise.

"Last night! Late, do you mean? Did you meet, see anyone?"

There was a dawning suspicion in her eyes, and she regarded his averted

face keenly; she noticed that he hesitated and seemed embarrassed.

"No one you know," he replied, feeling that it was impossible for him

to speak Ida's name.

"How do you know?" she asked, with a curious smile. "Who was it?"

"I met Miss Heron of Herondale," he said, trying to speak casually, and

wondering what she would say, hoping fervently that she would ask no

more questions.

The blood rushed to her face, her eyes flashed and her lips tightened;

but she did not speak, and moved away to the window, standing there

looking out, but seeing nothing. He had gone to _her_ the moment he had

returned: what did it mean? But she dared not ask; for she knew

instinctively how slight was the chain by which she held him. With an

effort she restrained the rage, the fierce jealousy, which threatened

to burst forth in violent reproaches and accusation; and after a minute

or two she turned to him, outwardly calm and smiling.

"Have you made any plans, Stafford?" she asked. "My father was speaking

of your return; he thought of writing to you. Dearest, there must be no

reserve between us now--now that you have come back. See, I speak quite

frankly. My father thinks--thinks that our marriage should take place

at once. He has withdrawn his objection, and--and you will not thwart

him, Stafford? It is hard for me to have to say this; but--but you will

understand."

"I understand," he said in a low voice. "I am grateful to your father.

Our marriage shall take place as soon as you please. It is for you to

fix the date, Maude."

She nestled against him and touched his coat with her lips.

"I am ashamed of myself," she murmured; "but, ah, well! love casteth

out shame."

A servant knocked at the door.

"The horse is round, miss," he announced.

"I was going for a ride," she said; "but I will send the horse

away--unless you will ride with me. You will, Stafford?"

"Certainly," he said, glad of the interruption to this _tête-à-tête_

which had been to him a positive torture.

"I will not be five minutes," she said, brightly. "You'd like to go

over the house? They shall bring you something to drink in the

smoking-room, or here, if you like: you are lord and master."