T,E 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 Christ 
 and ] 
 educa 
 hersel 
 Dec. 1 
 
 Vvll0711 
 
 Tierm 
 
 band's 
 
 made 
 'novel, 
 
 under t __________ ______ 7 ..... _. 
 
 she continued to use in all her literary work. 
 
 The titles of her publications include : Morton 
 
 House (1872); .4 Daughter of Bohemia (1874); 
 
 The Land of the Sky (1875); A Question of Honor 
 |A (1877); Heart of Steel (1882); Armine (1884); 
 \TheLandofthe Sun (1894), and many popular 
 latholic stories and contributions to magazines. 
 
 \Tlie .
 
 TIERJiAN, Frances Christine (Fisher), au- 
 thor, was born in Salisbury, N.C., Julj_5 J _iS4g 
 daughter of Col. Charles Frederic and Elizabeth 
 (Caldwell) Fisher ; granddaughter of Charles and 
 Christina (Beard) Fisher, and of David Franklin 
 
 , and Fanny (Alexander) Caldwell. She was 
 educated at home, and at an early age devoted 
 herself to literary pursuits. She was married, 
 Dec. 29, 1887, to James M. Tierman of Maryland, 
 whom she accompanied to Mexico, where Mr. 
 Tierman had mining interests. After her hus- 
 band's death in January, 1898, Mrs. Tierman 
 made her home in New York city. Her first 
 novel, Valerie Aylmer, was published in 1870, 
 under the pen name of " Christian Reid," which 
 she continued to use in all her literary work. 
 The titles of her publications include : Morton 
 House (1872); A Daughter of Bohemia (1874); 
 The Land of the Sky (1875); A Question of Honor 
 
 ,(1877); Heart of Steel (1882); Armine (1884); 
 
 \TJieLandofthe Sun (1894), and many popular 
 
 JCatholic stories and contributions to magazines 
 
 " '
 
 HEAET OF STEEL. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHRISTIAN REID, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "BONNY KATE," "A SUMMER IDYL," "MORTON HOI 
 "YALEKIE AYLatBB," "NINA'S ATONEMENT," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 D. APPLE TON AND COMPANY, 
 
 1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET. 
 
 1883.
 
 COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 1882.
 
 PS 
 
 HEABT OF STEEL. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL aufcuum day was shining over Paris, its bright- 
 ness softly tempered by a delicate haze that draped the vista of 
 the Champs-Elyse'es and removed the Arc de Triomphe to a region 
 as visionary as the memory of the victories it recorded. So, at 
 least, it appeared to Lester Stanhope, as he walked up the great 
 avenue from the Place de la Concorde, his frame of mind pleas- 
 antly toned to unison with the loveliness of the day and the ani- 
 mation of the scene around him. It was a scene sufficiently fa- 
 miliar, yet which always pleased him afresh when he returned to 
 it after an absence of some time. Other places might charm 
 more deeply, might touch chords which the gay city of the 
 Seine had no power to stir, but there was a mingling of attrac- 
 tions here which it seemed to him he found in no other place. 
 Where else, indeed, does one so nearly touch the great pulse of 
 humanity as in this brilliant capital, with its air of perpetual fete, 
 its heart of smoldering fire ? Yes, Paris pleased him that is, it 
 pleased his present mood, which was but one of many as he 
 moved onward with the tide setting toward the Barri^re de 
 1'Etoile. Every element of the scene entered into his enjoyment 
 of it the pearly sky and the soft effect of the receding vista, as 
 well as the crowd flowing along the broad pavement under the 
 yellowing chestnuts, the throng of carriages flashing toward the 
 Bois. 
 
 He was himself aware of this, realizing from his observation 
 of others that he was exceptional in the possession of a nature so
 
 4 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 many-sided that pleasure could flow in from a multitude of chan- 
 nels ; and, without thanking God like the Pharisee that he was 
 not as other men, he was grateful for the difference that insured 
 to him so great an advantage over them. It was not the only 
 respect in which Fortune had been kind to him. An American 
 by birth, he had been spared the necessity of entering into that 
 struggle for wealth which makes life in America at once so crude 
 and so feverish. With tastes that inclined him to a life of leisure, 
 he had inherited easy means, which enabled him to indulge these 
 tastes ; and he had spent his youth in a series of delightful wan- 
 derings, which had in no degree dulled his faculties of apprecia- 
 tion and admiration. On the contrary, so far was he removed 
 from those who find their own shallowness reflected in the spir- 
 itual and material world, that existence seemed to him overflow- 
 ing with sources of interest ; and the eyes that looked out on the 
 Champs-Elysees this autumn day were full of that genial obser- 
 vation which characterizes the true philosopher of life. He had 
 done a little literary work which proved this a few character- 
 sketches, in which every stroke told like the touch of an etcher 
 but the work was of too fine and delicate an order to have received 
 popular attention, or to have brought its author more than the 
 careful praise of discriminating critics. His social success did not 
 rest at all upon this basis. Indeed, few of those who knew him 
 socially were aware that he had any pretension to be regarded as 
 unhommede lettres. The quiet grace of his appearance and man- 
 ner, the keenness of his intelligence, and the thoroughness of his 
 culture were claims more easily appreciated. To his personal 
 friends he was also endeared by a readiness of sympathy as sin- 
 cere as it was unusual ; and he was one of the people who exert 
 an influence over all with whom they come in contact, which 
 strikes the outside world as disproportioned to their apparent im- 
 portance. For the rest, he was thirty-six years of age, had a 
 slender, well built figure of medium height, penetrating blue- 
 gray eyes, a mouth which expressed firmness, without a touch 
 of obstinacy, the forehead of a thinker, and the clear, straight 
 nose which, says Lavater, " indicates refinement of character and 
 love of the fine arts, together with a mind capable of acting and 
 suffering with calmness and energy."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 5 
 
 As he advanced, many signs told him that other absentees be- 
 sides himself were fluttering back to the asphalt pavements. 
 Several familiar faces bowed to him from passing carriages, and 
 he knew that he would be made welcome did he care to present 
 himself in more than one drawing-room within easy reach. If 
 there was any temptation in such a thought, it was perhaps be- 
 trayed when, in passing the Avenue Montaigne, he turned his 
 head and glanced along that street. By one of those chances 
 which occasionally surprise us, his glance met that of a lady who, 
 seated in an open carriage, was driving directly toward him. She 
 bowed, smiled, spoke to her footman, and the next moment the 
 carriage drew up at the pavement beside him. 
 
 "So, Mr. Stanhope, you are back in Paris! " she said, leaning 
 forward to give him a delicately gloved hand. " Why have you 
 not been to see me ? " 
 
 "For the very good reason that I only arrived in Paris this 
 morning," he answered. "Do you think I could possibly have 
 been here long without coming to see if you were again installed 
 in your familiar quarters ? " 
 
 " I returned to them a week ago," she said, " and I am glad to 
 be back. No place suits me so well as Paris. I feel more at home 
 here than anywhere else. I like the circle of people whom I have 
 gathered round me ; and I like I can't help liking all the brill- 
 iancy in the outward aspect of things." 
 
 " You speak in a very apologetic tone," he said, smiling. " Why 
 should you not like it ? " 
 
 " I don't know," she replied, smiling in turn, " except that I 
 fancied you might think it a culpable taste, indicating a low degree 
 of culture, perhaps. You see I stand very much in awe of your 
 opinion." 
 
 " I see that you are inclined to be unkindly satirical. I am also 
 sure that, if I condemned your liking for the brightness of Paris, 
 I should condemn myself; for I have been thinking, as I walked 
 np the Champs-Elysees, what a charming place it is and I am 
 more than ever of that opinion now," he added, looking at the 
 face before him. 
 
 It was certainly a very charming face that of a lovely woman 
 in the fully developed prime of her loveliness a refined, express-
 
 6 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 ive face, with a complexion of exceeding fairness and delicate 
 bloom, beautiful violet eyes, and a rich abundance of sunny hair. 
 She was most becomingly and harmoniously dressed, and her toi- 
 let, which would have delighted the eye of any man, would have 
 told almost any woman two things : first, that she possessed great 
 wealth ; secondly, that, despite the serene composure of her man- 
 ner, she was not indifferent to admiration, and would not be 
 averse to homage. 
 
 " I did not know that you ever paid compliments, even by im- 
 plication," she replied. " But I am glad that Paris charms you, 
 because it may keep you at least long enough for me to tell you 
 a dozen things that I have been treasuring for that purpose." 
 
 " There is no danger that Paris will not keep me long enough 
 for you tell me all those things, and many more besides. When 
 may I come to see you, in order that we may make a begin- 
 ning ? " 
 
 " Can you take breakfast with us to-morrow, in our old pleas- 
 ant fashion?" 
 
 "I shall be delighted to do so. Nothing is pleasanter than to 
 take up such habits just where one dropped them." 
 
 " I shall expect you, then. And, that being settled, I will not 
 detain you longer unless I may take you to your destination, if 
 you have a destination besides promenading along the Champs- 
 
 "I have a destination; but, whether I can allow you to take 
 me to it or not, depends upon what is your own." 
 
 " Mine is the Bois merely." 
 
 " Then, since you are so kind, you may take me to Numero 
 , Avenue du Bois de Boulogne." 
 
 She drew aside her silken skirts, as the footman opened the 
 door ; and the next moment Stanhope found himself seated by her 
 side, rolling up the avenue toward the great Arc which, as they 
 approached, loomed clearer and more distinct against the soft blue 
 sky. 
 
 " Xumero , Avenue du Bois de Boulogne ! " she repeated. 
 " It strikes me I know that house. Did not the Irvings have an 
 apartment there ? " 
 
 " Yes. It is to a lady who occupies the apartment of the Irv-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 7 
 
 ings, during their absence in America, that I am about to pay a 
 visit." 
 
 " So you are about to pay a visit and not to me I Yet I fan- 
 cied I was your chief friend in Paris." 
 
 " Do not fancy, but be sure of it," he replied, with a smile. 
 "This is a visit in which there could be no more delay than in 
 obeying a royal command for what royalty is like that of mis- 
 fortune ? When I arrived this morning, the first thing which I 
 did was naturally to send to my banker for letters. Among them 
 was a note from a lady whom I have known long and well, telling 
 me of her presence in Paris, and desiring to see me. You have 
 often heard of her. She was once" the Countess "Waldegrave she 
 is now called Madame Lescar." 
 
 "Indeed! Of course I have heard of her, but I have never 
 seen her; and I fancied, somehow, that she was dead." 
 
 " She has been dead to the world for several years. After 
 her career as a singer in America ended, she came abroad partly 
 to educate her daughter ; partly, I think, because she likes Europe, 
 and can live here quietly and cheaply. She spends her winters in 
 Italy and her summers in Switzerland. I have chanced to be of 
 service to her several times there is an hereditary friendship be- 
 tween our families and now she calls upon me whenever she 
 needs a friend." 
 
 " I am sure she could not find a better," said his listener. 
 " And so she has a daughter ! Ah, what a sad story it was ! I 
 always admired her pride in refusing to accept anything from the 
 man who sacrificed her to his ruthless ambition." 
 
 " You would admire much perhaps all about her, if you 
 knew her." 
 
 "And can I not know her? I like to meet interesting people 
 as much as I dislike meeting commonplace ones." 
 
 " It may be possible, and she is certainly worth knowing, for 
 she is a woman who has borne great misfortunes with a noble 
 spirit." 
 
 "Say to her, then, if you think it worth while, that it would 
 give me great pleasure to be allowed to make her acquaintance. 
 You may add, as a claim on her consideration, that my mother 
 was Miss Sherwood, of Virginia, and that I often heard her speak
 
 8 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 of the beautiful Miss Lescar, whom she knew during Tier last, and 
 the latter's first, season in Washington." 
 
 " I will make honorable mention of these things, and I do not 
 think she will refuse to see you. To old friends that is, to those 
 connected in any way with her old life she is, as I learned in my 
 own case, very accessible ; but, naturally, she shrinks from meet- 
 ing strangers." 
 
 " I can readily fancy that. Has she come to Paris to remain 
 for some time?" 
 
 " She has come to see a physician, and her stay will be of un- 
 certain duration. She has not been strong since I have known 
 her ; but she was less so when T saw her last than ever before." 
 
 " Poor woman ! How terrible it must be to her to think of the 
 position in which her daughter will be left if she dies! What 
 will become of the child? " 
 
 " She is no longer a child. Madame Lescar was married in 
 '60, and this is '78. Her daughter is seventeen." 
 
 " So old as that 1 And what is she like ? Has she her mother's 
 beauty, her mother's charm? " 
 
 " Both, I think, with a brilliancy which the mother has not 
 which she inherits from her imperious and ambitious father. 
 There is something very striking about her." 
 
 " It could hardly be otherwise. I have never heard but one 
 opinion of the mother, while all the world knows what the father 
 is. Ah! how can any one believe in earthly retribution who 
 looks at that man ? He has every gift of fortune that his soul 
 covets power, rank, wealth, the favor of his sovereign, the virtual 
 government of a realm. He stands, as far as one can perceive, in 
 the broadest sunlight of prosperity, while how deep is the shadow 
 in which the woman he wronged has dwelt, and must continue to 
 dwell!" 
 
 " Call no man happy till he dies," said Stanhope. " Retribu- 
 tion does not come in a day. Moreover, there is one thorn in 
 Prince "Waldegrave's triumph. The woman who is now called 
 his wife brought him great riches and a noble name, but she has 
 borne no children." 
 
 " And, like all men of his type, no doubt he would like to 
 found a house. I am glad that he is disappointed that there is
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 9 
 
 one thorn beneath his splendor ! I wonder " she hesitated for a 
 moment, " what the woman whom he flung out of his path has 
 thought of that splendor? It was hard to be so near such a 
 height and to be cast down so utterly that is, if she be an am- 
 bitious woman." 
 
 " I do not think she is an ambitious woman. I should not 
 judge, from my knowledge of her character, that she has ever re- 
 gretted the loss of the exalted station of which she was robbed." 
 
 " Yet it is such an exalted station that even I, who am not 
 ambitious, can imagine that it would be possible to regret it." 
 
 Stanhope looked with a smile into the fair countenance beside 
 him. 
 
 "Shall I remind you," he said, "of the old counsel, 'Know 
 thyself?" 
 
 She met his glance with one of surprise. " Do you mean that 
 you take me to be ambitious ? For once, you are mistaken. If 
 one is ambitious, one entertains willingly the thought of change ; 
 is it not so ? But I like the position I occupy too well to desire 
 to exchange it for any other." 
 
 " It is certainly an enviable position," he said ; " yet I think 
 the time will come when you will look upon it as only the step- 
 ping-stone to something more brilliant." 
 
 "Do you? Take care! Prophecy is always unsafe never 
 more unsafe than when it concerns a woman. Oui, d gauche" 
 
 This to the footman for they had now passed around the 
 Place de I'fitoile, and were entering the Avenue du Bois de Bou- 
 logne. Turning, as indicated, into the upper road\vay to the left, 
 the carriage presently stopped at the gate of one of the houses 
 which are situated there. 
 
 " I shall know where to come if Madame Lescar will receive 
 me," said the lady. " How glad I am to have met you ! Do not 
 forget to-morrow. Adieu." 
 
 The next instant the gracious presence was gone, and Stan- 
 hope, looking after the carriage, said to himself with a smile : 
 
 "Does one never know one's self? Does the vain man al- 
 ways fancy himself modest, the proud man believe that he is hum- 
 ble ? It is not a bad rule in life to take for granted that we are 
 just the opposite of what we esteem ourselves to be. No doubt
 
 10 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 she is sincere in thinking that she is not amhitious ; and ambitious, 
 in a vulgar sense, she is not. But of a character so flexile and 
 adaptive the ideal woman of the world is formed. She ought to 
 fill a great position ; and there is no position, however great, that 
 she would not adorn. Give her a month in a palace, and she 
 would bear herself as if born to the purple ! " 
 
 With this summary and there was nothing he so much en- 
 joyed as analyzing a character, and describing it for his own satis- 
 faction in epigrammatic phrases he turned and passed through 
 an open gate into a court-yard, with buildings on three sides, and 
 in the center a fountain round which shrubs and flowers were 
 planted. To the right was a porte cochere opening on another 
 street ; to the left a flight of steps leading to a door which he en- 
 tered, and, mounting a staircase within, rang the bell au seconde. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE servant a white-capped maid who answered his sum- 
 mons, replied in the affirmative to his question if Madame Lescar 
 was at home, and taking his card showed him into a small, pretty 
 drawing-room. He knew the apartment well, for the absent 
 Irvings often received their friends there in an informal fashion, 
 and all the tables and cabinets and chairs seemed to his fancy to 
 smile a welcome as if saying, " Ah, you and we remember some 
 pleasant hours ! " The windows were open to the soft air of the 
 delicious day, and before them lay one of the gayest scenes in all 
 gay Paris the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne in the full tide of 
 its afternoon brightness. The great roadway was thronged with 
 equipages, people were walking, equestrians were riding, and over 
 the whole scene of animated movement the sunlight was stream- 
 ing that sunlight of Paris which seems to have in it the quality 
 of champagne. 
 
 Like all persons who possess in any degree the artistic tem- 
 perament, Stanhope was very impressionable to outward influ- 
 ences; but this picture did not affect him as that of the Champs- 
 Elys6es had done probably because he was now under an influ- 
 ence which brought forcibly to his mind (what was never far
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 11 
 
 from its realization) the depth of sadness which might underlie 
 this glittering surface. He walked to one of the windows, but, 
 before he had stood there more than a minute, a portUre on the 
 other side of the room was drawn back, and a lady entered. 
 
 A slender figure almost shadowy in its thinness, yet preserving 
 the grace that accompanies perfect proportion ; a face with soft 
 olive complexion, features as purely chiseled as those of a head 
 on an antique cameo, and large, dark eyes of wonderful luster. 
 The hair which crowned this face was of snowy whiteness, and, 
 with something of the effect which is given by a powdered coif- 
 fure, it served to deepen and throw into relief the splendor of 
 the eyes and the dark beauty of the finely finished brows and 
 sweeping lashes. 
 
 " Ah, you have come at last ! " she said in a voice of cordial 
 eagerness, as she held out her hand. " I began to fear that it 
 might be some time before I saw you." 
 
 "I only reached Paris this morning," Stanhope answered, 
 " and have made haste to obey your summons. I am very sorry 
 that it should have been so long in reaching me ; but during the 
 last ten days I have beenon the homeward road, and my letters 
 have not been forwarded." 
 
 " I was sure that the delay was not yours," she said, with an 
 exquisite smile; "but I should have been none the less sorry if I 
 had not seen you." 
 
 "You are leaving Pari? soon, then 1 " he asked, with some sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "I may be leaving Paris soon, to go on a very long journey," 
 she replied. " But we will not talk of that now. I am so very 
 glad to see you ! Let us sit down." 
 
 He had been holding her hand up to this point. Now he re- 
 linquished it, and, following her example, sat down, drawing his 
 chair close to the sofa on which she sank. 
 
 Being thus on a level with her, he saw more plainly traces of 
 physical suffering on the face which was none the less stamped 
 with ineffaceable beauty. The cheeks were pale and sunken, but 
 the nose was like a piece of fine carving, and, although there was 
 something of the habitual compression which indicates habitual 
 pain about the mouth, the lips were still lovely in oirtline. It was
 
 12 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 a very spirituelle face, gentle but also thoughtful, refined by suf- 
 fering, and calm now with the supreme calmness of one who has 
 passed through the stress and anguish of conflicts in which the 
 soul wrestled with despair, and has come forth victor. 
 
 " Tell me what you have been doing since I heard from you 
 last," she said, kindly. " There is time enough to talk of my 
 ..affairs I feel at ease about them since I see you. Tell me first 
 about yourself." 
 
 This Stanhope was reluctant to do, and he would fain have 
 passed over in very general terms the account of his summer in 
 Norway; but her interest was keen, and she asked questions which 
 obliged him to give many details of his travels. But at last he 
 said, a little impatiently : 
 
 " You must not insist upon my talking of myself when there is 
 so much that I wish to hear from you ! Above all, I am anxious 
 about your health and you have not told me what the physicians 
 think of it." 
 
 " There is some news which it is not well to be in haste to 
 hear," she answered. "You will be sorry to learn that the phy- 
 sicians find no good to say of me." 
 
 "Do they think you dangerously ill? " he asked, quickly. 
 
 She met his gaze with perfect calmness, and there was no 
 change of countenance as she replied : 
 
 " They think me hopelessly ill and that is why I wished so 
 much to see you." 
 
 "Good Heavens!" exclaimed Stanhope. He could say no 
 more, but what he felt was written so plainly on his face that she 
 extended her hand and touched his. 
 
 "There is nothing for which to be sorry," she said, in a tone 
 of sweetness. " Believe me, I have no regret none except for 
 Irene." 
 
 He took her hand and kissed it before speaking. Then he said : 
 " I can well understand that to you there is nothing to regret ; but 
 I can not believe this sentence. You must have other advice." 
 
 She shook her head. " There is no need of other advice," she 
 said, "/was sure before the doctors spoke; but I saw two, in 
 both of whom you will have confidence" and she mentioned 
 eminent names. u They were reluctant to tell me the truth ; but,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 13 
 
 when I expressed my own belief, they acknowledged that I was 
 right. Indeed, my lease of life is even shorter than I fancied. It 
 is certainly measured by months ; it may even be measured by 
 weeks." 
 
 Silence fell for a moment. What could Stanhope say ? He was 
 inexpressibly grieved, and, despite his forebodings, deeply shocked. 
 But the time of deepest feeling is the time when speech is least 
 possible. After an instant, it was Madame Lescar herself who 
 spoke again : 
 
 " Since this is the case, I must put my worldly affairs in order 
 without delay. What I have already said, I repeat I have but 
 one regret in leaving life, and that is for my daughter." 
 
 "No one can take your place to her," said Stanhope, in a tone 
 full of emotion ; "but have you not friends and relatives? " 
 
 " I have a brother in America the only one of my immediate 
 family left but he is in narrow circumstances, and burdened by 
 a large family. I should not like to send Irne to him, even 
 though she will be, moderately speaking, independent. Besides, 
 I do not think she would remain there. So, why attempt to make 
 an incongruous arrangement one which could not last?" She 
 hesitated for a moment, then added: "You do not know Irene. 
 You can not tell why it is that for many reasons I am most anx- 
 ious about her future." 
 
 " I know her partially and I can imagine your anxiety. What 
 mother would not be anxious for the future of one so young, so 
 beautiful" 
 
 " And so desolate ! " she said, as he paused. " Why hesitate 
 to speak what is in my mind as well as in yours? But that 
 is not all. Irene has a nature which makes me tremble. If I 
 lived, I could control her through her affections, which are 
 as strong as her passions. But after I am gone what will re- 
 strain her?" 
 
 There was so much subdued anguish in the tono of the last 
 words that Stanhope was startled. 
 
 " What do you fear for her ? " he asked, involuntarily. 
 
 " What do I not fear! " she answered. " What mistake is not 
 possible to a girl so young, of beauty so great, of mind so independ- 
 ent, of will so strong, and feelings so intense? Can you, who have
 
 14 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 imagination as well as worldly knowledge, conceive a more dan- 
 gerous combination of qualities ? No!" as Stanhope shook his 
 head " I am sure you can not. Then add to this that her knowl- 
 edge of the wrong done to us, to her as well as to me, has had a 
 deep, an almost transforming effect upon her character. Since she 
 learned the truth and, as she grew toward womanhood, I felt 
 bound to tell it her she has been a changed creature. She is, 
 perhaps, even more passionately attached to me than before; 
 but, of the depth of her resentment against the doer of the wrong, 
 I can give you no idea. She is intensely proud my poor child ! 
 so you can imagine how she is stung by the thought of what 
 she should have been, and what she is. Ah, I have suffered over 
 again for her all that I suffered for myself in the years of agony 
 that are gone ! And never before have I so clearly realized the 
 fact that it is in the nature of wrong to perpetuate wrong, as 
 when I see the strength of a character which should be so noble 
 turned into bitterness." 
 
 " But can she learn no lesson from you ? r said Stanhope. " I 
 should think such feelings natural if she had not before her eyes 
 your example ; if she did not see that, instead of suffering wrong 
 to drag you down to bitterness, it has elevated and purified you." 
 
 " If it has done so in any degree, remember that it has been 
 after years of suffering, of tears and prayers unnumbered. She 
 is so young she has not yet suffered much ; she has not wept 
 many tears, and she has not learned how to pray, for most of us 
 are such poor creatures that grief must teach us that. Then, she 
 has a fiery element in her nature which was never in mine. I 
 recognize in her many traits of her father. She has his indomi- 
 table resolution, his ambition, and many of his intellectual quali- 
 ties. But, thank God ! she has not his selfishness, nor his hard- 
 ness of heart. A more loving heart than hers does not exist ; but 
 as yet she has only loved her mother and her mother must leave 
 her so soon ! " 
 
 For the first time her voice faltered, and two large luminous 
 tears gathered in her eyes. She dried them quickly, and went 
 on: 
 
 " Do not think, my friend, that this is idle talk ; that I desired 
 to see you merely to relieve my mind by pouring out my trouble.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 15 
 
 I have described my poor Irene because I want you to understand 
 her character, in order to advise me with regard to her. I must 
 leave her there is no help for that and, although I am sure that 
 God will not forsake her, there are some arrangements for her 
 future which I must make, in which there is scope for both wis- 
 dom and folly." 
 
 " I will advise you to the best of my ability," replied Stanhope. 
 " Tou are sure of that." 
 
 " Listen, then, to a brief account of my position. When I 
 quitted America, I left there, safely invested, the sum of thirty 
 thousand dollars, money that I made as a singer. On the interest 
 of this we have lived in comfort, and I have educated Irene. If 
 I had continued to sing I could have made more, but the life was 
 so intensely distasteful to me that I left it as soon as I could feel 
 assured that I had enough for our wants and her education. This 
 small fortune I will, of course, secure to her; but she needs for 
 several years a trustee or guardian. Now, tell me frankly, am I 
 asking too much of your friendship when I say, will you be that 
 guardian ? " 
 
 " Madame ! " said Stanhope. He was exceedingly and not 
 agreeably surprised. There was not probably in the world a man 
 to whom the offer of such a responsibility could have been more 
 unwelcome. It was opposed to every habit and every principle of 
 his life ; and, as an immediate instinct warned him, full of immense 
 annoyance. Money to look after, when he did no more looking 
 after his' own than was strictly necessary; and a girl of the most 
 dangerous dispositions to guide, or attempt to guide, and keep 
 clear of the difficulties into which she was sure to rush ! He 
 foresaw unnumbered troubles, and it spoke much for the kindness 
 of his heart, the depth of his sympathy, that he did not at once 
 ntter a decided negative. As it was, he said after an instant, 
 " Pardon, but before I answer the question, permit me to ask, 
 would not your brother be a more suitable person than myself? " 
 
 " No," she answered. " My brother, as I have said, is over- 
 burdened with his own affairs, and naturally has little interest to 
 spare from his struggling family. Then, have I described Irne 
 to such little purpose that you do not see that what she needs, and 
 what I desire above all things to secure for her, is the control and
 
 16 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 guidance of a nature capable of comprehending and influencing 
 her ? Fancy such a character as hers, with her story and her 
 training, placed among my brother's kind, commonplace children I 
 Do you not see that she would break her bonds in a short time, 
 and go away to destruction, perhaps? No, it would never do! 
 And so, my only hope is in you. I am poor in friends, but, were 
 I rich in them, I should still prefer you for this trust to any ono 
 else in the world ; for I have not only tested you and I can not 
 speak now of what I have found you ! but you possess, in the 
 highest degree of any one whom I have ever known, the ability 
 to read such a nature as Irene's, and the wisdom to guide it. I 
 should feel safe if I left her to your care ; but," she added, with 
 a pathetic smile, " do not let my selfishness make you accede to 
 my request if it would be too great a trouble." 
 
 These words overcame Stanhope's hesitation, and made him 
 feel that anything was easier than to refuse a request which, 
 granted, would give partial peace to the last days of this Pad 
 life. 
 
 " Do not speak of trouble," he said, earnestly. " I will do any- 
 thing to serve you. Make me what you will. If I hesitated, it 
 was because, though somewhat past the "beau gar f on age, I fear I 
 am not yet old enough to undertake the guardianship of a young 
 lady." 
 
 " I never thought of your taking personal charge of her," said 
 Madame Lescar. " All I ask is that you will hold her fortune, 
 and guide her life as far as possible. I must find a home for her 
 though where and with whom I know not. Have you thought 
 of anything ? " 
 
 This question was drawn forth by a start which Stanhope 
 made, and by a sudden change in his face. In fact, an idea had 
 occurred to him with the force of an inspiration but he refrained 
 from uttering it. 
 
 " A thought has suggested itself to me," he replied, " which I 
 may tell you hereafter if, on reflection, I decide that it is worth 
 telling." 
 
 "I have implicit reliance on your judgment," she answered. 
 Then she looked at him a little wistfully. " I fear your consent 
 to my request has cost you something," she said. "If so, let it
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 17 
 
 console you that you have given me great happiness. I shall sleep 
 in peace to-night." 
 
 " I am not worthy of your kindness," he said, deeply moved ; 
 " but I shall spare no effort to deserve your trust. Believe that." 
 
 " I do believe it," she replied, gratefully. 
 
 There was a moment's pause then Stanhope, seeing that her 
 face had grown paler, said : 
 
 " I must not tax your strength further. But, before I go, let 
 me say that, on my way here, I met a lady who has heard much 
 of you, and who desires to be allowed to make your acquaintance. 
 I think I may venture to promise that you will like her." 
 
 She shrank a little. "Even if I cared to make any new 
 acquaintance," she said, " I am not strong enough to do- so. Who 
 is this lady ? " 
 
 " Her name is Mrs. Falconer. She is an American, but the 
 widow of an Englishman. She told me that her mother was a 
 Miss Sherwood, of Virginia who knew you in Washington, when 
 you made your debut there." 
 
 "Miss Sherwood! " repeated Madame Lescar, like one who 
 searches memory for the association of a name. " Ah, yes I re- 
 member. She was the daughter of one of my father's friends and 
 political confreres. She was older than myself, and was married, 
 during my first season, to one of the representatives from Ken- 
 tucky. And now her daughter is a widow ! Surely time flies ! " 
 
 " A very young widow. I do not think she can be more than 
 twenty-five or six." 
 
 " Certainly not more. And how did she chance to marry an 
 Englishman ? Was she an heiress ? " 
 
 " A very great heiress. Her parents died in her early youth, 
 and an uncle, who had made a large fortune in Colorado, adopted 
 her, and placed her at the head of his household as his acknowl- 
 edged heiress. She is very lovely, so you may imagine that she 
 did not lack suitors. Among them was a young Englishman one 
 of those men of good family who have lately gone to the West in 
 considerable numbers, in the hope of bettering their fortunes. 
 This man was proved, by after-events, to be a mauvais sujet of the 
 worst type ; but he must have had a great outside polish and 
 charm. He was handsome, accomplished, just the man to fasci-
 
 18 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 nate a girl with longings for a higher type of manhood than her 
 experience furnished. She accepted him, subject to her uncle's 
 approval. Her uncle disapproving, but having no very valid rea- 
 son for doing so, wrote to the family of the gentleman. They 
 pleased, no doubt, at the prospect of washing their hands of him 
 in so satisfactory a manner replied, with a statement of his past 
 more rose-colored than true. Then Mr. Joscelyn (the uncle) put 
 the suitor on probation. ' I never do anything without a good 
 reason,' he said to his niece, 'and I have no good reason for refus- 
 ing to allow you to engage yourself to him ; but I insist upon 
 knowing what kind of a man he is before I let you marry him.' 
 This was a sensible precaution ; but, unfortunately, the speaker 
 died a month later. He had left all his fortune to his niece ; and 
 she soon bestowed herself and it on Mr. Falconer. She, who told 
 me this, has never said much of what followed but what did fol- 
 low was the bitterest disappointment. She had married a man 
 of the most dissipated and extravagant habits, whose God was 
 self-indulgence, and who valued her only in proportion to the 
 means which she brought for this self-indulgence. Like all men 
 of his description, he had neither a heart to be touched nor a 
 sense of honor to be roused. Immediately after their marriage 
 they went to England, and there the girl learned fully in what 
 manner she had wrecked her life. A few years of association 
 with the man would have broken her heart and wasted her for- 
 tune ; but, happily, he killed himself speedily by his excesses, and 
 she was once more free. Then she took her life into her own 
 hands. The family, who had deceived instead of warning her, 
 were disposed to be exceedingly cordial, and to take so much 
 American money nnder their warmest protection. But this pro- 
 tection she declined. She came to Paris, and here she has chiefly 
 lived growing more attractive every year, and so enamored of 
 the freedom which has been restored to her that I hardly believe 
 she will ever resign it again. But I fear I have weaned you with 
 this long story ? " 
 
 "No, I have been much interested," replied Madame Lescar, 
 with a faint smile. " Tell your friend to come to see me. I may 
 not be able to receive her; but she will take the chance, per- 
 haps. Ah, how many forms of suffering there are ! and who shall
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 19 
 
 say which is worst ? But now I must ask you to go I feel that 
 my strength is indeed exhausted.** 
 
 Eegarding her with sudden self-reproach, he saw that her 
 pallor had increased, and that she looked as if she might be ahout 
 to faiut. He rose at once. 
 
 "I can not leave you alone," he said. "Shall I not summon 
 some one? " 
 
 She pointed to a bell, then leaned back and closed her eyes, 
 the dark lashes resting like a silken fringe on the clear ivory of 
 her cheeks. " Touch that," she said. 
 
 He touched it and went without another word. To the serv- 
 ant who, simultaneously with himself, appeared in the vestibule, 
 he said : 
 
 "Madame is not well. Go to her at once." 
 
 "Ah, madame has exerted herself too much," replied the 
 maid, with French freedom and a French shrug. " Mademoiselle 
 has been very uneasy ; and, listen ! she is already there." 
 
 Indeed 1 , through the only partially closed door of the salon 
 Stanhope heard a soft rush of drapery, and a voice sweet and full 
 of tenderness as a mother's to an infant, cry : 
 
 "O mamma darling, why have you done this! " 
 
 He carried the sound of that voice with him into the outer 
 world ; and its sadness suggesting all the certain desolation be- 
 fore this young and friendless creature robbed the sunshine of 
 something of its brightness. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IT was a little after noon the next day when Stanhope de- 
 scended from & fiacre before the door of an hotel in the Avenue 
 Montaigne, and, entering under the wide porte-coch&re, mounted 
 to the first floor. 
 
 The servant who answered his ring admitted him into a cor- 
 ridor, where exotics in tall vases and large lamp-bearing statues 
 of bronze on each side of a mirror like a sheet of crystal gave an 
 impression at once of luxury and beauty. The foot sank sound- 
 lessly into the thick carpet which covered the floor, and, through
 
 20 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the parted folds of heavy velvet portttres, the glance passed into 
 lofty and spacious salons. Turning from these, however, the man 
 led the way down the corridor, saying : 
 
 " Madame is in her houdoir ; she will receive monsieur there." 
 
 It was not unfamiliar to Stanhope, the sanctuary into which 
 he was then introduced, a room with furniture and hangings 
 of soft India silk, and a wealth of comfort in the form of easy- 
 chairs, couches, and cushions, with beautiful cabinets, mirrors in 
 Venetian frames, low carved book-cases, well filled ; a writing- 
 table covered with every possible convenience for correspondence, 
 and on the walls excellent aquarelles, interspersed with photo- 
 graphs of places and people, the last a collection of personal 
 friends and literary celebrities. As the door opened, a lady rose 
 from a chair beside the writing-table, and, putting down the morn- 
 ing "Figaro," advanced to receive him. It was the lady of the 
 Champs-Ely sees, who was even lovelier in a becoming toilette 
 negligee than she had looked when arrayed for the Bois. 
 
 " JBonjour, M. Stanhope," she said, with a cordial smile. " I 
 am delighted to see you and here is Aunt Marion, who is as 
 glad as I am to welcome you back again." 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Stanhope? " said an elderly lady, who, 
 seated near a window, was busy with some netting. "I am cer- 
 tainly very glad to see you. Come and shake hands with me, 
 for my rheumatism is troublesome again, and I rise with diffi- 
 culty." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Vance, it is a great pleasure to see you," said 
 Stanhope, crossing the floor to shake hands as requested ; " but I 
 am very sorry to hear such a bad account of the rheumatism." 
 
 " It is shameful of Aunt Marion to be suffering with rheuma- 
 tism," said Mrs. Falconer, "when I sacrificed a month of my 
 summer to take her to Wildbad in the Tyrol for the hot baths ; 
 and she declared herself cured by them." 
 
 " Improved, my dear," said Mrs. Vance, tranquilly. " And I 
 don't feel at all overpowered by your sacrifice of a month, for I 
 think you enjoyed "Wildbad quite as much as I profited by the 
 baths." 
 
 "I enjoyed it very much," said Mrs. Falconer. "The Tyrol 
 delighted me. You know it, of course, Mr. Stanhope what do
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 21 
 
 you not know ? Are you not afraid of exhausting this woi-ld be- 
 fore you are ready for another." 
 
 "Not in the least," replied Stanhope, with a smile. "I am 
 half through the allotted term of man's life, and I have not nearly 
 half finished the world. The continents of Asia and Africa lie 
 unexplored before me, to say nothing of Oceania." 
 
 " We can not allow you to undertake the exploration of them 
 just yet," said Mrs. Falconer. " You are far too necessary to 
 your friends. Apropos, was your visit yesterday a success ? " 
 
 " That depends upon how you would define a visit as a suc- 
 cess. I found Madame Lescar at home, and it gave her pleasure, 
 I am sure, to see me ; but the visit was a very sad one, and I have 
 not shaken off the impression of it yet." 
 
 " Did you find her worse in health than you expected ? " 
 
 " Very much worse. Two of the best physicians in Paris are 
 agreed that there is no hope of her life." 
 
 " How very sad ! I have never seen her, but I am sorry." 
 
 " Of whom are you talking ? " asked Mrs. Vance, with that 
 instinctive curiosity which the majority of people feel with regard 
 to any one concerning whom there is question of death. 
 
 " Of a woman who has been famous in more ways than one 
 during her life," replied Mrs. Falconer. " Did you not hear Mr. 
 Stanhope mention Madame Lescar? ". 
 
 " I did. Who is Madame Lescar ? " 
 
 " She is, properly speaking, the Princess Waldegrave." 
 
 " Oh ! " the netting dropped from Mrs. Vance's hands. 
 "You mean her! the unfortunate lady whom that German 
 treated so infamously ? " 
 
 " The same," replied Stanhope. " You remember her, then ? " 
 
 " I remember her unhappy story who could forget that ? 
 But I never saw her, except once when she was singing in Amer- 
 ica. What a beautiful woman she was, and what a divine voice 
 she had!" 
 
 " Divine, indeed ! " said Stanhope. " No wonder that, with 
 such a voice, and her beauty, and the knowledge of her wrongs, 
 people went wild over her. Yet this public life, which would 
 have been so great a triumph to almost any other woman, was a 
 penance equal to walking over burning plowshares to her. There
 
 22 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 are some natures that shrink from publicity as from absolute suf- 
 fering. Of just such fiber is this woman made. ' Nothing nerved 
 me to endure it but the thought of my child,' she said to me more 
 than once." 
 
 " But, if she disliked publicity so much, why did she become 
 a singer ? " asked Mrs. Vance. 
 
 " I thought every one knew the reason," answered Stanhope. 
 " You remember her history, no doubt that she was the beauti- 
 ful only daughter of one of the most eminent statesmen and wealth- 
 iest gentlemen of the old regime of the South. A princess could 
 not have been more shielded from every breath of harsh fortune 
 than was she who was to pass through such cruel suffering in 
 after-life. She made her debut in Washington with brilliant suc- 
 cess ; and, after reigning as a belle for a few years, finally married 
 one of the most ardent of her suitors Count Waldegrave, who 
 was then in Washington, attached to the embassy of his country. 
 You know the sequel. Ability, ambition, and the favor of his 
 sovereign, soon marked out an exalted career for the man who 
 proved himself one of the first diplomatists in Europe. Bat it be- 
 came apparent, and was signified royally, it is said, that his mar- 
 riage was a mistake. He had but a small fortune, and he needed 
 wealth. Miss Lescar had been a great heiress when he married 
 her, but the war in America, which followed quickly on her mar- 
 riage, ruined her father utterly. Apart from the loss of her fort- 
 une, Count Wuldegrave found the religion of his wife a draw- 
 back to his public career. Eer mother had belonged to one of the 
 old French families of Louisiana, and the daughter, like herself, 
 was a Catholic. The result was easily to be foreseen in a coun- 
 try where divorce is easy and all things possible to power. Count 
 Waldegrave experienced no difficulty in having his marriage an- 
 nulled on some pretext of informality. Certainly a more help- 
 less creature than his wife could not readily have been dis- 
 covered. She was in a foreign land, without friends or fortune. 
 Her father had died at the end of the war happily before he 
 knew this last blow of Fate and left an estate which was a wreck. 
 Of course the man who sacrificed her to his ambition had grace 
 enough to desire to secure to her a provision for life. This she 
 refused. ' Tell him,' she said, ' that there is no one in the world
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 23 
 
 from whom I would not sooner take the means to live.' But the 
 decision left her almost penniless. Of all the bounteous gifts of 
 Fortune, but one remained to her the beautiful voice -which it 
 had been her father's delight to have carefully and highly trained. 
 With this she determined to win from the world enough for her 
 own needs and her daughter's education. She went to America 
 and became a singer. You remember the furore she created, but 
 you do not know how entirely she succeeded in her object. When 
 she quitted America, she left thirty thousand dollars invested 
 there, on the interest of which she has lived." 
 
 " Ah, what a woman ! " said Mrs. Falconer. " What a flower 
 to have been crushed in the iron gauntlet of such a man ! " 
 
 " Thank you for telling me the story, Mr. Stanhope," said Mrs. 
 Vance. " I remembered it ; but vaguely, as one remembers what 
 one has heard in fragments." 
 
 " You know I am raconteur by profession," said Stanhope, 
 smiling at the recollection of the story which he told to Madame 
 Lescar the day before. It seemed an odd chance which had made 
 him to each of these women the historian of the other. 
 
 A few minutes later a servant drew back a portiere and an- 
 nounced breakfast. 
 
 "Surely this is the poetry of civilization," said Stanhope 
 when they had seated themselves around a table, sparkling with 
 engraved glass and delicate painted china, in a room which 
 charmed the eye by the harmonious beauty of all its appoint- 
 ments. "There is nothing that so marks our place in the scale 
 of civilized beings as the degree of artistic refinement with whcih 
 we surround the really humiliating fact that we must eat in order 
 to live." 
 
 "Do you think it an humiliating fact? " asked Mrs. Falconer. 
 " We are made of body as well as spirit, and why should it hu- 
 miliate us to be reminded of the truth ? " 
 
 " Because we are so fettered by the necessities of this body, 
 and because it vexes the spirit to feel that even its eubtile emo- 
 tions are in great measure dependent on the quantity and quality 
 of food which la ~bete, as De Maistre called it, is bound to con- 
 sume." 
 
 " I think it a very arrogant spirit, then, and properly pun-
 
 21 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 ished. Come, don't be so spirituel, but tell Gustavo what wine 
 you prefer at dejeuner" 
 
 The breakfast which followed was very pleasant, the conver- 
 sation gay, sparkling, and cordial, for no one put Stanhope more 
 at his best than this pretty and clever woman they were so 
 thoroughly sympathetic in tastes and opinions. To him, as to 
 most men, a woman of masculine intellect was distasteful; but 
 there was an altogether feminine quality in Mrs. Falconer's esprit, 
 which responded charmingly to his own. He had led her along 
 many ways of culture which were his delight, and he felt, with 
 regard to her, something of the pride of a discoverer, mingled 
 with the admiration of a man for a lovely woman, and the fond- 
 ness of a master for a clever pupil. 
 
 " And you enjoyed your visit to London? " he asked, presently. 
 
 " Yes," she replied, " I always enjoy London for a time, and 
 that time the height of the season. Afterward, I like a month or 
 so of English country life, and then I want to wing my flight to 
 the Continent." 
 
 " I think yon were rather reluctant to wing your flight this 
 year," observed Mrs. Vance. 
 
 "Perhaps I was a little reluctant," she said, with a smile that 
 seemed inspired by pleasant recollections. " I went to Scotland 
 with the Falconers Sir George has a shooting-box there and I 
 found it very agreeable. The place is picturesque, and Lady Fal- 
 coner has excellent discrimination in the selection of guests. 
 A propos, Mr. Stanhope, do you know that your friend the Mar- 
 quis de Chateaumesnil is her cousin ? " 
 
 "Yes," Stanhope replied ; "his mother was English, and in 
 tastes and training he is half an Englishman. He was going to 
 London when we parted you met him there, of course ? " 
 
 " Frequently and he, too, went to Scotland with the Fal- 
 coners." 
 
 " And have you learned to like him? " 
 
 "I do not know," she answered, slowly. " I can understand 
 all his fascination, for he is handsome, accomplished, and intellect- 
 ual in no ordinary degree ; but he belongs to a class that I know 
 well in all their soulless, selfish epicureanism. And I am past, 
 long past, the age to find any attraction in them."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 25 
 
 He understood what gave the vibrating thrill to her voice, 
 what bitter memory was recalled in her words. 
 
 " I think," he said, " that you misjudge the marquis, and I am 
 sure that you are too kind and too reasonable to desire to mis- 
 judge any one. He has been guilty of many follies, but you 
 should remember*that he was born into ' a world out of joint,' in- 
 heritor of a political creed that closed to him every field for high 
 ambition. And he is ambitious, with powers that would fit him 
 to play a distinguished part in the world under happier auspices." 
 
 " I grant you that is a hard fate," answered Mrs. Falconer ; 
 " but need it have made him a viveur des viveurs believing in 
 nothing save the necessity for good manners, loving nothing save 
 the pursuit of pleasure ? " 
 
 " Is that how you have read him ? " asked Stanhope, with a 
 smile. " I gave you credit for more discernment of character." 
 
 " I never gave myself credit for it," she replied, with a slightly 
 heightened color ; "but I do not like to be guilty of injustice. 
 Tell me, then, what I am to think of your marquis. I know what 
 is said of him in Paris and in London nothing better, some things 
 a good deal worse, than what I have expressed ; but tell me what 
 you know." 
 
 "E"o," Stanhope answered. "You must judge him for your- 
 self. / know him as it is only possible to know a man with whom 
 one has been associated in prolonged travel, with whom one has 
 endured discomfort, hardship, even danger, and whom one has 
 found to be brave, unselfish, and cheerful, through it all." 
 
 " That is high praise," she said. 
 
 " And deserved yet it does not prevent many things that you 
 have heard of him from being true." 
 
 " He is one of the Legitimists who will accept nothing but 
 Henri Cinq and the fleur-de-lis, is he not?" asked Mrs. Vance. 
 
 "He is a Legitimist cela vet sans dire" answered Stanhope; 
 " but, if it were possible for him to serve France, I am sure that 
 he would do so, even though Henri Cinq did not sit on the throne. 
 But it is not possible in the radical republic that represents 
 France to-day, where anarchy and revolution are rapidly advanc- 
 ing toward some denoument more terrible, perhaps, than any the 
 world has yet seen."
 
 26 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Good Heavens, Mr. Stanhope I" said Mrs. Vance. "You 
 make me feel like running away ! " 
 
 " So do not I," said Mrs. Falconer, as she rose from the tahle. 
 "I would stay if the ground sounded hollow beneath my feet. I 
 like to see history made to hear the stylus trace the leaf." 
 
 When they went back to the boudoir, Mrs'. Vance consider- 
 ately retired, leaving the two friends alone together, and then 
 Stanhope found his opportunity to say : 
 
 " I have not felt at liberty to speak before of a matter on 
 which I wish to consult you. What will you think when I tell 
 you that I have bound myself to play the part of guardian after 
 a fashion, at least to Madame Lescar's daughter ? " 
 
 " I think that you are a very amiable man," replied Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, " for I fear that it will entail a great deal of trouble on you. 
 What are you to do with a girl of seventeen, did you not say? " 
 
 " The fact that she is a girl of seventeen is not the worst of 
 the matter. Listen to the description of her character which her 
 mother gives," and he repeated in substance what Madame Lescar 
 had said. 
 
 "It is easy to realize that she may be all that," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, when he had finished. "The very force which she has 
 inherited from her father is arrayed against him. I begin to be 
 more interested in the daughter than in the mother," she added, 
 with a smile. 
 
 "That is what I desire," he said. "I want you to be inter- 
 ested in her. I want you to suggest, if you can, what is to be 
 done with her. To send her to America is out of the question 
 yet, how and where in Europe is she to find a home? " 
 
 " Has Madame Lescar no friend no woman friend who 
 would take charge of her?" 
 
 "I do not think that she has ; indeed, I am sure that she has 
 not. She hopes for a suggestion of some plan from me ; and I 
 feel absolutely incapable of making any." 
 
 "This comes of playing Don Quixote," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 with a gentle laugh. " But I am really sorry for you and sorry, 
 too, for this poor lady, who sees death so near, and her daughter's 
 future so uncertain. I must consider the matter, and try to help 
 you. What is the good of having friends if they do not help one
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 27 
 
 in one's difficulties ? But I should like, if possible, to see Miss Les- 
 car, in order to judge what would be best for her." 
 
 " That is easily accomplished. Madame Lescar desired me to 
 say that she would be happy to know you." 
 
 " Did she ? The matter is simple, then. I will go to see her. 
 Can you accompany me ? You know / could hardly ask for the 
 daughter, while it will be easy for you to do so you, who are an 
 oil friend and future guardian." 
 
 " I shall be delighted to accompany you," said Stanhope, and 
 the trite words had true meaning, for he really was delighted to 
 find so valuable an ally. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer promptly rang the bell, and ordered her carriage. 
 
 " There is nothing like doing a thing without delay, when it 
 is to be done at all," she said. " We will go at once." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHEN the two friends entered together the court which Stan- 
 hope had entered alone the day before, Mrs. Falconer said : 
 
 " Will you believe that I feel a little trepidation? Those words 
 which you uttered yesterday recur to me, ' There is no royalty 
 like that of misfortune.' I feel that I am about to see one who 
 might say with Constance, ' Here I and Sorrow sit.' " 
 
 " She might say it," replied Stanhope, " but she does not, and 
 therein lies a great difference. She does not pose in the least. 
 I have always been particularly charmed by her simplicity and 
 serenity. She is one to whom a great wrong has been done; 
 but it has not sullied her with passion any more than with 
 shame." 
 
 " How you warm into enthusiasm, when you speak of her!" 
 said Mrs. Falconer, with a smile. " I wonder if I shall admire 
 her as much as you do ? " 
 
 " Hardly as much, because you will not know her as well; but 
 you can not fail to admire her in exactly the degree in which you 
 know hei'." 
 
 They paused on the second etage as he spoke, and lie pulled 
 the bell of the door before them. It was answered by the maid,
 
 28 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 who, in reply to his inquiry for Madame Lescar, replied that 
 madame was much better to-day, and would, no doubt, be charmed, 
 to see monsieur and madame. Receiving their cards, she then 
 opened the drawing-room door, and, after their entrance, closed 
 it on them. 
 
 There was no long delay on the part of Madame Lescar. A 
 moment later, the same portiere which had been drawn back the 
 day before was again lifted, and she entered the room. To Stan- 
 hope, who was familiar with her graceful presence, it brought no 
 new revelation ; but the words " a beautiful woman " leave a 
 wide margin to the imagination ; and Mrs. Falconer's had by no 
 means prepared her for what she was to see. She had expected 
 a wreck of past loveliness one of those worn and faded coun- 
 tenances upon which pain and suffering had left their heavy foot- 
 prints, amid what are called " signs of beauty " and what she 
 saw was a face which impressed her instantly with the feeling 
 that it should not be left to die, but should be set on canvas in 
 immortal tints to charm succeeding generations with its fairness, 
 with the spell of its sweetness and its sadness. 
 
 " You see that I have not come alone to-day, madame," said 
 Stanhope, coming forward to meet her. " I have brought or, to 
 speak more correctly, I am brought by Mrs. Falconer, who is 
 anxious to know you." 
 
 " I am very happy to make Mrs. Falconer's acquaintance," an- 
 swered Madame Lescar, with a smile. " The name which your 
 mother bore was one of the most familiar of my youth," she went 
 on, addressing that lady, "so I feel that I am welcoming one with 
 all the claim of old friendship." 
 
 " I feel the claim as strongly as yourself," replied Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, "for, although I lost my mother when I was very young, I 
 had often heard her speak of you in terms of warm remembrance. 
 I thought myself fortunate, then, to learn from Mr. Stanhope yes- 
 terday that you were in Paris, and to-day that your health would 
 allow you to receive a visitor." 
 
 "It would hardly allow me to receive any other," said Madame 
 Lescar. "But I rested well last night," she . continued, looking 
 at Stanhope with a glance which he understood, " and I am con- 
 sequently stronger this morning than I have been for several days."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 29 
 
 " I am not only glad, but relieved in conscience to hear it," 
 he replied, " for I was haunted by the recollection of your face 
 as it looked when I went away, and by the tone of Mademoiselle 
 Irene's voice, which I heard after I left the room, and which 
 seemed full of reproach for me." 
 
 "For me more likely," said Madame Lescar. " She watches 
 me with the most jealous care, and scolds me for every impru- 
 dence. 1 have never yet had courage to tell her the truth," she 
 added, in a lower tone. 
 
 There was a moment's pause; then Stanhope said, with a 
 glance at his ally : 
 
 " May I not hope to see her ? It has been nearly a year since 
 I saw her last, and no doubt she has changed much in the in- 
 terval." 
 
 " Not much, but somewhat, perhaps," answered Madame Les- 
 car, " and certainly you can see her." 
 
 She rang a bell near her hand, and desired the servant who 
 appeared, to request her daughter to come to her. 
 
 " I, too, shall be glad to see Mademoiselle Lescar," said Mrs. 
 Falconer. " Mr. Stanhope tells me that she is very beautiful." 
 
 "I am afraid that she is," said Madame Lescar. "Do you 
 wonder that I should say, ' I am afraid ' ? " she asked, as she caught 
 the expression on the other's face. " I say so because a woman 
 with any exceptional gift of mind or person is not so likely to 
 have a happy lot in life as one who is commonplace." 
 
 " No doubt you are right," said Mrs. Falconer. " It is cer- 
 tainly true that commonplace women are generally happier than 
 their more beautiful or more intellectual sisters. Yet, if the choice 
 were given me, I do not think I would take happiness at such a 
 price." 
 
 "No one willingly descends from a height," said Madame 
 Lescar, smiling. " Yet happiness does not invariably fall only to 
 the commonplace. I hope that you may find it," she added, 
 kindly. 
 
 " I do not look for it," said Mrs. Falconer. " I shall be satis- 
 fied if I escape unhappiness. I am like one who has been ship- 
 wrecked. I do not care to sail over the sea in search of Treasure 
 Islands the risk is too great. I would rather remain quietly and
 
 30 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 contentedly on the shore, where nothing wonderful is likely to 
 happen, but where one has all the minor pleasures of life, and the 
 sweet recurrence of peaceful days and nights." 
 
 "You are a wise philosopher," said Madame Lescar. "And 
 is this bright Paris the shore where you have elected to remain 
 so contentedly ? " 
 
 "For the present," answered Mrs. Falconer. " Paris suits mo 
 that is, I find more advantages here than anywhere else; and I 
 am singularly free from ties to bind me to one place more than 
 another. Yet it is not for what is most distinctively French that I 
 like it, but because it is, in many respects, what it boasts of being, 
 the capital of civilization ; and hence one may find here a truly 
 cosmopolitan society." 
 
 "If France had but wisdom if she did not seem doomed by 
 the madness of her folly never again to know the blessing of a 
 stable government Paris might indeed become, in a wider sense 
 than ever before, the capital of civilization," said Stanhope. " But 
 one can not build a capital on a volcano." 
 
 " That is so true," said Mrs. Falconer, "that I often find myself 
 looking with wonder at the Parisians going their different ways of 
 business and pleasure, as if such terrible subterranean fires were 
 not smoldering beneath their feet ; as if Montmartre, like a more 
 deadly Vesuvius, did not hang over the city in continual menace." 
 
 " They are accustomed to it," said Stanhope. " It has always 
 been a turbulent city, and the people have through centuries ac- 
 qiiired their characteristic light-heartedness and carpe-diem phi- 
 losophy." 
 
 " I am often reminded " began Mrs. Falconer, but paused 
 abruptly in her speech, for at this moment the porti&re was again 
 drawn aside, and a young girl entered. 
 
 A tall, graceful girl, slight with the slightness of extreme youth, 
 but with remarkable dignity and stateliness of carriage. She was 
 very simply dressed, but her high collar could not conceal the 
 round, white fullness of her throat the singer's throat which 
 bore her head with an air of unconscious pride. The sensitive, 
 finely-drawn face, with long, straight nose and thin, delicate nos- 
 tril, was the type of face to express both fire and feeling in extreme 
 degree. There was much likeliness to Madame Lescar, with
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 31 
 
 much difference less sweetness and more resolution in the curve 
 of the lips, greater intellectual force on the broad, calm brow. 
 Her complexion was fair and pale a clear paleness, like that of 
 alabaster. But the crowning beauty, and also the crowning mys- 
 tery of the face, lay in the eyes, which were deep yet transparent, 
 of that rare, limpid gray which has not a tint either of blue or 
 hazel, fringed by dark lashes, and surmounted by dark, straight 
 brows. Her hair, also dark, was of silken abundance, and, being 
 simply braided and coiled, showed to the best advantage the 
 classic shape of her head. 
 
 " Ma cJierie" said Madame Lescar, as she entered with the 
 gliding step, the gentle composed manner of 'a girl trained in for- 
 eign ideas of decorum, "come and let me present you to a lady 
 who has been kind enough to remember that friendship should 
 be hereditary, even in a strange land." 
 
 " Though I am much your senior, mademoiselle, we belong to 
 the same generation," said Mrs. Falconer, taking the girl's hand, 
 " and, as your mother has said, friendship should be hereditary." 
 
 Irene gave one straight, steady look into the face of the speaker 
 before answering; then she said, simply: 
 
 " My mother's friends are mine, and I am glad to know them." 
 
 "Do not forget, then," said her mother, "that here is one of 
 our oldest and best Mr. Stanhope." 
 
 " "Were you waiting for me to cry peccavi for yesterday's trans- 
 gressions, mademoiselle, before you would recognise me?" asked 
 Stanhope, as she turned toward him. 
 
 "How did you know that I was angry with you yesterday?" 
 she asked. " I was very angry because you staid so long ! 
 But mamma is so much better to-day that you are forgiven." 
 
 " I am properly grateful," he said, amused by the tone in which 
 this forgiveness was accorded. " My own conscience reproached 
 me for the length of my visit ; but it had been so long since I saw 
 your mother last that we had much to talk of." 
 
 "But why had it been so long? "Why have you not been to 
 see us during the whole past year?" 
 
 "Are you not aware that other things besides inclination fre- 
 quently determine our journeyings ? " replied Stanhope who had 
 really no better reason to give than that a duty is apt to seem less
 
 32 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 insistent when viewed through the medium of time and dis- 
 tance. 
 
 " I thought that you had nothing to consult hut your inclina- 
 tion," she said, with a look of surprise. " But pardon me," she 
 added, quickly, "I know that we have no real claim upon you; 
 and, if I quarrel with you for not coming, it is only because your 
 visits always gave mamma so much pleasure." 
 
 "Do not misunderstand me," he answered. ''There can he 
 no more real claim than such friendship as I entertain for your 
 mother : but it is possible to make for one's self plans which have 
 almost the force of duties. My winter was spent in Asia Minor, 
 my summer in Norway. Yet I feel a regret that needs no inten- 
 sifying that I did not, at any cost of convenience to myself, see 
 Madame Lescar between the two journeys. I meant to do so, but 
 what are we told? that 'procrastination is the thief of time,' 
 that 'hell is paved with good intentions,' and many like proverbs, 
 true as if Solomon had uttered them." 
 
 "Who accuses himself should be excused," she said, with a 
 softening of voice and glance. " Mamma would be vexed if she 
 knew that I was making you either accuse or excuse yourself. 
 She takes everything gratefully, and demands nothing. I shall 
 never be like her in that ! You see that I demand at once." 
 
 " I see that one thing which I have gained by my inexcusable 
 absence is the ability to perceive with what a bound you have 
 passed from girlhood nay, from childhood, for what were you 
 but a child, last year? into womanhood." 
 
 The swiftest possible change came over her face at his words 
 a change that made him realize the singular mobility of her 
 countenance. It might have been another face altogether a face 
 both proud and sad that looked at him as she answered: 
 
 " Yes, I was a child last year but that is over. In a day, 
 childhood closed for ever behind me. But I can not talk of this! 
 Tell me what you think of mamma. Do you find her very much 
 altered ? Do you think her very ill ? " 
 
 Fortunately for Stanhope, he was spared an answer to these 
 questions. Before he could reply, Mrs. Falconer turned from 
 Madame Lescar, with whom she had been talking. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," she said, " your mother thinks that you might
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 33 
 
 like a drive in the Bois this lovely afternoon. My carriage is at 
 the door. Will you come with me? " 
 
 " You are very kind, madaine," answered Irne, with evident 
 reluctance; "but I do not think it is possible for me to go to 
 leave my mother " 
 
 " Go, mon enfant," said Madame Lescar. " There is no reason 
 why you should not leave me for so short a time. Mrs. Falconer 
 kindly offered to take me, but I do not feel equal to the exertion. 
 You must go and enjoy the pleasure for us both." 
 
 The girl was too well-bred to make any further demur. 
 " Since you are so good I Avill prepare myself," she said, and, 
 rising, left the room. 
 
 In a few minutes she reappeared, dressed with that perfection 
 of quiet simplicity which French taste ordains for a,jeunefille, and 
 at her entrance Mrs. Falconer rose. 
 
 "If you will allow me, I shall see you soon again," she said to 
 Madame Lescar, "and another day I hope -that I maybe more 
 fortunate in inducing you to accompany me. A half-hour's drive 
 in the quiet parts of the Bois would surely not injure you ? " 
 
 " Another day, then, I may go," she replied. " Meanwhile, 
 thank you for taking Irene. The poor child has few recreations, 
 and only goes out for her walks with Nathalie." 
 
 There were a few more words pleasant and cordial on both 
 sides and then Mrs. Falconer turned to Stanhope. " Are you 
 coming with us ? " she asked. 
 
 " I shall have the pleasure of putting you into the carriage," he 
 replied. "I see that I must bid madame adieu for Mademoiselle 
 Irene is watching me with jealous eyes." 
 
 " I am afraid that if you stay you will make mamma talk too 
 much," said Irene. 
 
 Madame Lescar smiled, but did not bid him stay. She only 
 detained him for an instant to whisper : 
 
 " I like her very much. Ah ! if Irene may but win such a 
 friend." 
 
 "It is what I hope," he answered.
 
 34: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " So we can not tempt you, Mr. Stanhope," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 when, after having put them into the carriage, he closed the door. 
 
 " You tempt me," he answered, smiling, " hut I must not yield 
 to the temptation. I have an engagement for this afternoon ; and, 
 even if I had not, I could hardly bring myself to disturb what 
 ought to be a purely feminine tete-d-tete." 
 
 "Adieu, then," she said, understanding him. "Remember 
 that to-morrow evening I am at home." 
 
 As the carriage drove off, Mrs. Falconer smiled a little to herself 
 over the impulse which had prompted her to undertake the task 
 of drawing out the girl beside her. It did not seem quite so easy 
 a task as she had imagined it would be, when she glanced at the 
 young face in its pale, clear-cut repose. Woman of the world as 
 she was, she felt a hesitation in opening the conversation ; and, 
 when she spoke, her choice of a subject was certainly not liable 
 to objection on the score of originality. 
 
 " You have been some time in Paris, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Only a month at present," Irene answered. " But I have 
 been here often before." 
 
 "You know it well, then? " 
 
 " I do not think that any one could know it less," the girl 
 replied, " unless to know a place it is sufficient to be acquainted 
 with the appearance of a few of its streets. Of course, I have seen 
 few people." 
 
 " Ah ! the life of a demoiselle here is different from what 
 it is in America that land of social liberty," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 "I confess that I should not like to be a girl in France." 
 
 " It seems natural if one has never known anything else," 
 said Irene. " I was too young when I was in America to know 
 much of its customs, and I have not seen many Americans. In- 
 deed, the only one I know is Mr. Stanhope." 
 
 " You have seen a great deal of him. have yon not ? " 
 
 " Mamma has known him for a long time. He has been very 
 kind to her, and she likes him exceedingly." 
 
 "Everybody likes Mr. Stanhope," said Mrs. Falconer. "He
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 35 
 
 is rather a remarkable man in impressing his friends with a sense 
 of his sympathy and trustworthiness. And then, he is extremely 
 clever/' 
 
 "He must be clever," said Irene. "His books show how 
 keenly he looks at life and character." 
 
 " So keenly that most people are afraid of him," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. " I am a little afraid of him myself," she added, smiling. 
 
 " Afraid of him you ! " said Irene, with surprise. Then she, 
 too, smiled. "I suppose you are jesting. I can not imagine that 
 you are really afraid of any one." 
 
 " In a literal sense, perhaps not," answered Mrs. Falconer. 
 "But can you not understand such a feeling for one whose 
 opinions are worth more than your own, whose tastes are fastidi- 
 ous, and whose standard of culture is high ? " 
 
 The girl shook her head. "I can not understand being afraid 
 of even the cleverest man in the world," she said. 
 
 "Yon have not much veneration, I fancy," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 "No one could feel the spell of genius more than I do," Ir6ne 
 answered ; " but I can not efface myself before it. I have my 
 individuality, just as Dante had his." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer looked at the proud young face, wondering how 
 far this was the voice of conscious power. 
 
 " You are right," she said then. " But, to return to our mut- 
 ton, I am surprised that you like Mr. Stanhope's books. "When 
 one is very young, one is inclined to enjoy romantic pictures of 
 life rather than delicate studies like his." 
 
 " It is because they contain so little romance that I like them," 
 the girl replied. " I want to know life as it is ; not life as one 
 might dream or fancy it." 
 
 " You will know life as it is soon enough, without desiring to 
 anticipate the knowledge," said Mrs. Falconer. "It is a pity 
 when youth throws away too early its dreams and fancies. They 
 are like the mists that soften this landscape," she added, smiling, 
 as the carriage paused at the end of the lake. " I always stop 
 here for the view," she went on; "there is something delightful 
 to me in the wide expanse of this scene those hills and woods 
 and shining villages beyond the Seine." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Irene. " This must be the view that always strikes
 
 36 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 me like a poem as I come through the Arc de Triomphe a high, 
 distant scene, on which clouds and sunshine lie enchantingly." 
 
 " This is it those are the hills of Meudon and Suresnes, and 
 yonder is the park of St. Cloud. Of course you have been there ? " 
 
 " Never. I thought the Prussians destroyed it that there was 
 nothing left." 
 
 " They burned the chateau, but the park is uninjured, and the 
 garden also. Do you like such places ? " 
 
 " Like them ! " the expressive face lit up as by a flash. " I like 
 nothing so much as places where the great drama of history has 
 been played where those who are mere names to us now have 
 walked and talked, bowed, smiled and intrigued 1 " 
 
 "Then would you care to go to St. Cloud? "We have time 
 enough to do so this afternoon." 
 
 " I would like nothing better. Only " the face changed 
 again " I am afraid I should be too long absent from mamma." 
 
 " I do not imagine that your mother needs you," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, "and I am sure that she would like you to go. We shall 
 not be long. St. Cloud, Henri." 
 
 So they rolled away through the park, out on the great high- 
 way, past the famous course of Longchamps, by the side of the 
 Seine, with the sky and the clouds and the village-crowned hills 
 of the opposite bank reflected in its clear water, past boats filled 
 with people, past pleasant villas and country-houses, until they 
 crossed a bridge and the high-stepping horses carried them up 
 the steep, stony hill of St. Cloud to the front of the chateau. 
 
 " I am superstitious enough to believe," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 after they had alighted, as they stood in the court-yard looking at 
 the empty shell of the once stately palace, "that the day of the 
 Bonapartes is finally over. The Tuileries and St. Cloud were pe- 
 culiarly associated with them were the two spots between which 
 the courts of both emperors vibrated and behold them ! Does it 
 not look like the handwriting on the wall? " 
 
 " But there were other places associated with them," said 
 Irene " Fontainebleau, for instance." 
 
 " Not so much with their splendor, with the arrogance of their 
 power. Remember, it was at St. Cloud that the coup d'etat of 
 the 18th Brumaire was effected ! However, who can prophesy
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 37 
 
 the future of France ? This way we will go round, and enter 
 the garden." 
 
 They entered the lovely old pleasure-ground the sunshine 
 streaming over its turf, its statues gleaming, its waters as tranquil 
 as when Henrietta of England trod its paths, as when Marie An- 
 toinette saw her fair face reflected in those still depths. Talking 
 of the scenes that had been enacted here, of the people that had 
 passed into shadows, they walked about the wide parterre, looked 
 into the beautiful park that tempted to wanderings for which they 
 had not time, and listened to the sound of a bugle that seemed to 
 come like an enchanted echo from the far depths of its woodland 
 recesses. 
 
 " It may be some ghostly company of the soldiers of Henry of 
 Valois," said Irene, smiling. "Should you not like to meet one 
 of them, and hear what he had to say of turbulent Paris ? " 
 
 " I fancy it would not differ very much from what might be 
 said to-day," replied Mrs. Falconer. " But you must have met 
 some one of the kind, or else you have a wonderful imagination 
 in dealing with the past." 
 
 "I am only very fond of history, especially French history," the 
 girl replied. " It is like a marvelous pageant, full of the most 
 splendid dramatic effects. What nation has such a list of heroes 
 from Vercingetorix to Bayard ! I often wonder what the French 
 of the present day are made of, that they can be so indifferent to 
 their past, when, even to me, a stranger, it has such thrilling in- 
 terest." 
 
 " What they are made of? " repeated Mrs. Falconer. "Mud, 
 I think the most of them with as much idea of the glories of 
 the past as the tadpoles from which, advanced science tells them, 
 they have sprung. The France of to-day is simply an ouvrier in 
 the palace of kings. But, since you find so much in these palaces, 
 you should see them all. Have you been to Versailles and Fon- 
 tainebleau ? " 
 
 " I went once with mamma to Fontainebleaa, but I have never 
 seen Versailles." 
 
 " Then you must do so. I think one hardly knows what a 
 palace is until one has seen Versailles. Should you not like to go 
 there some day ? " 
 
 45
 
 38 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Yes, I should like it exceedingly. But it is not possible I 
 could not leave mamma for so long a time." 
 
 " You could surely leave her for a day, and one can see Ver- 
 sailles in a day." 
 
 " I should not like to leave her even for a day," said Irene, 
 with a troubled look. " You do not understand how ill she is. 
 I fear, sometimes, that I do not altogether understand myself. 
 She has had several alarming attacks, and the doctors look so 
 grave ! I am afraid to go out, even like this ; I do not know how 
 ill she might become while I am away. And, without her, noth- 
 ing has power to give me pleasure. She is the sun of the world 
 tome!" 
 
 There was a pathetic fervor in these words which would have 
 touched Mrs. Falconer, even if she had not known the sorrowful 
 truth the truth which, in its utmost sorrow, was yet veiled from 
 the speaker. For a moment she was so moved with compassion 
 that she could not reply. Then she said, gently : 
 
 " I would press nothing that is painful to you, but, if it is true 
 that your mother needs your care, it is true, also, that you can not 
 maintain your health without exercise and recreation." 
 
 " I go to walk every day." 
 
 " That may be exercise, but it is certainly not recreation; and 
 you need the latter as much as the former. Therefore, pray, do 
 not refuse such a simple pleasure as I offer yon ; do not deny your 
 mother the gratification of thinking that, for a little time, your 
 mind is diverted from sadness and anxiety." 
 
 " It can never be that while she grows no better," said Ir&ne, 
 sadly. " But there is not anything I would not do to gratify her." 
 
 " Then do this," said Mrs. Falconer. " You will gratify her, 
 and give me pleasure." 
 
 The young face turned toward her with a wistful look on it 
 that she had seen once before. 
 
 " You must not think that I am ungrateful for your kindness," 
 the girl said, "if I ask, why should it give you pleasure? What 
 am I to you ? " 
 
 "I am afraid," answered the lady, smiling, "that you do not 
 give the weight you ought to your mother's saying that friendship 
 should be hereditary. I do not know you yet though I think,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 39 
 
 frankly, that I shall like you hot are you not aware that your 
 mother has always, from her earliest girlhood, won a peculiar trib- 
 ute of admiration and affection from all who knew, and even from 
 those who only heard of her, and are you too proud to accept 
 kindness if you choose to call it so that springs from regard 
 for her?" 
 
 She touched a chord that responded at once. The beautiful 
 eyes grew luminous, the sensitive lips quivered for an instant. 
 
 " I would rather accept kindness that springs from regard for 
 her than anything whatever that was given to me personally," 
 the proud, sweet voice answered. " If I have pride, it is for her 
 alone. And I " the tones trembled " I can not tell you what I 
 feel for those who, even in her misfortune, see and know her for 
 what she is." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer laid her hand with a gentle touch on the arm 
 next her. 
 
 " They are blind and very contemptible people who can not 
 look below the mere accidents of life," she said. " And although 
 it seems trite to say that misfortune is a test to determine true 
 gold from base metal, I have never felt so sure of it as in the case 
 of Madame Lescar. So now," she went on, anxious not to pursue 
 a painful subject, "you must consent to let me cultivate your 
 acquaintance a little." 
 
 "You are very kind you are more than kind," said the girl, 
 with a grateful glance. "I will do whatever you like; only, pray 
 do not ask me to leave mamma too much." 
 
 " Trust me," said Mrs. Falconer. " I will ask nothing yon 
 need hesitate to grant. But we must have that day at Versailles, 
 and we will take our good friend Mr. Stanhope with us. Now 
 come this way let us see the view from the terrace." 
 
 They mounted a flight of steps, and, following a long alley 
 with close-clipped hedges on both sides, emerged finally on the 
 broad terrace which commands a magnificent view of the distant 
 city. Over the rich valley, where the Seine winds like a silver 
 ribbon, the eye passes to rest on the immense extent of the great 
 capital of modern civilization. On this afternoon the wide ex- 
 panse of its roofs, the multitude of towers and spires and monu- 
 ments were distinctly revealed in the clear golden air a sight
 
 40 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 that made Irene hold her breath as she gazed. Never before had 
 she so comprehensively beheld this wonderful Paris, or so felt 
 the weight of all its thronging aasociations. Fresh as if she had 
 yesterday sprung, like Aphrodite, from the foam, how far back 
 does her history extend this town of Clovis, of Charlemagne, of 
 St. Louis, and of Henri Quatre ! The massive towers of Notre 
 Dame, with their memories of seven centuries, uplifted themselves 
 from the island where the wild tribe of the Parisii first made their 
 home ; above the crowded houses of the Quartier Latin rose the 
 Mil of St. Genevieve, with the spire of St. Etienne du Mont 
 marking the shrine of the shepherd-girl who once saved Paris ; and, 
 dominating palaces and gardens and those far-stretching quarters 
 whence the hordes of Revolution and of Commune pour into the 
 world of glittering boulevards and Elysian Fields, gleamed the 
 gilded dome of the Invalides above the tomb of Europe's second 
 Attila, while from end to end the great city seemed to flash into 
 a magic illumination as the sun sank toward the fortified crest of 
 Mont Valerien. 
 
 "It was this scene which Metternich saw when he was here 
 after "Waterloo," said Mrs. Falconer. " I was reading the passage 
 in his ' Memoirs ' the other day. ' Seeing,' he says, ' the immense 
 city still brilliant with all its towers and spires in the setting sun, 
 I said to myself, " This city and this sun will still greet one an- 
 other when there are no longer any traditions of Napoleon and 
 Blucher, and least of all myself." ' No doubt it will be true. A 
 thousand years hence this city and this sun will still greet one 
 another, while we Eh Hen! let us go home! It is growing 
 late, and I doubt if Metternich found the reflection cheerful." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHEN Stanhope entered Mrs. Falconer's salon the next even- 
 ing, he found a company assembled which fully justified that lady 
 in saying that she liked Paris because she could there command 
 a cosmopolitan society. A cosmopolitan society it certainly was, 
 comprising almost as many nationalities as guests, but a notable 
 and very agreeable society also. "Without being in the least a lion-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 41 
 
 hunter, nor tolerant any more than a duchess of Bohemianism in 
 any form, she had a passion for cleverness and a peculiar gift in 
 discerning it. " I care nothing for merely famous people," she 
 often said. " Many famous people are very tiresome. "What I 
 care for are people worth knowing." 
 
 " In short, what you want is sublimated society dullness and 
 mediocrity weeded out," Stanhope would answer, laughing. " I 
 fear such an ambition must always remain unrealized." 
 
 He was fain to confess, however, that she was sometimes very 
 near realizing it. The people who filled her salon were, generally 
 speaking, people worth knowing and people who, having been 
 there once, found it pleasant to go again, and yet again. For she 
 was a woman admirably fitted to be the center of such a circle ; 
 adaptive, versatile, with instinctive tact and constantly widening 
 worldly knowledge, she added to these things a personal charm 
 which, in its effect, can hardly be overrated. 
 
 A murmur of well-bred conversation filled the large salon, with 
 its rich tones of color, its soft wax-lights, and animated groups, 
 when Stanhope entered. Many familiar faces at once greeted 
 his sight, and as he moved from one to another he felt all the 
 pleasure that lies in social intercourse after months of deprivation 
 of it. 
 
 " Monsieur Stanhope, I am enchanted to see you," said a spark- 
 ling French lady, holding out her hand as he drew near where 
 she sat, talking with a man whose rugged head and face expressed 
 intellectual force in the highest degree. " And you are just in 
 time to give me assistance, for here is Monsieur Godwin attempt- 
 ing to overthrow all my most cherished idols." 
 
 " Did you not know that he is an iconoclast, madame ? " asked 
 Stanhope, exchanging a greeting with the rugged-faced man. " He 
 has a hammer like that of Thor. with which he strikes right and 
 left, demolishing all one's favorite beliefs. He does not demolish 
 any of mine, however, for the very good reason that I never let 
 him know what they are." 
 
 " For the better reason that I doubt whether you know your- 
 self," said the iconoclast. "I don't care to waste blows on shad- 
 ows: men like you have no beliefs." 
 
 " I think I have a few," said Stanhope, modestly, " but I do
 
 42 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 not preach a crusade in their behalf. I am not sufficiently assured 
 of my own infallibility. You never doubt yours." 
 
 Godwin laughed. " Perhaps not," he said. " Madame la 
 Baronne will agree with me, that a fallible teacher is no teacher 
 at all." 
 
 " Gela depend" said Madame la Baronne. " You do not mean 
 that you can not err ? " 
 
 " So far from that, I only mean that I do not teach." 
 
 "Like a Nihilist," said Stanhope, "he destroys, but he does 
 not rebuild." 
 
 "I do not destroy everything," said Godwin. "I have a few 
 beliefs, for which I think I would go to the stake." 
 
 " You are quite the stuff of which martyrs are made," said 
 Stanhope ; " but you are also of the stuff to make martyrs. Let 
 us be grateful, madame, that he has not the power to send us to 
 the stake." 
 
 " Mafoi, yes," said madame, shrugging her pretty shoulders. 
 "I confess I have no ambition to wear the crown of martyrdom." 
 
 "There are certainly other crowns more becoming to your 
 brows," said Godwin, with a politeness that veiled his sarcastic 
 meaning. 
 
 Then he rose, and, with a gesture of the head like that of a 
 lion shaking his mane, walked across the room toward Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. She saw him approaching, and made a slight gesture of 
 dismissal to a young man standing by her a graceful, brown-eyed 
 young fellow, known to all habitues of the house as her distant 
 cousin, and also as the petted favorite which women often like to 
 make of men younger than themselves. 
 
 " Go and talk to Mrs. Percy, Lionel I think she looks a little 
 bored by Count Schewndorf," she said. "And do you, Mr. God- 
 win, sit down here and talk to me. See how kind I have been 
 to you," she added, as he obeyed, " for I have sent away poor 
 Lionel, with whom I know you have scant patience." 
 
 "Patience is certainly not my forte" said Godwin, "especially 
 not with gentlemen of the type of Mr. Lionel Erne. I have re- 
 spect for the poorest character that has in it the salt of sincerity, 
 but none for the cleverest talent that tricks itself out in borrowed 
 plumes."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 43 
 
 "As a general rule, I agree with you," said the lady; "but 
 you are too uncompromising in the expression of your opinions." 
 
 " You have preached the suaviter in modo to me for a long 
 time," said he, looking at her kindly, " but I am made in too rug- 
 ged a mold ever to learn it. Bears can not be transformed into 
 greyhounds." 
 
 " No ; but bears can be gentle with greyhounds," she replied. 
 " That is all I ask. Men like yon are too prone to think that 
 strength gives you a right to ride rough-shod over the weakness 
 of others." 
 
 "I do not think that I feel it," said Godwin. "For weakness 
 I have pity, if not respect ; but for pretense I have neither pity 
 nor respect." 
 
 "And how dare you presume to judge always what is pre- 
 tense?" asked she, rousing a little. "Mr. Godwin, I have often 
 heard of intellectual arrogance : I see it in you." 
 
 " Do you ? " said Godwin, with a laugh. " "Well, it may be 
 so. I am a bear, certainly, and not likely to change even for you, 
 I am afraid." 
 
 " You are a bear with a good heart," said she, laying her fan 
 lightly on his arm ; " and you should not belie your heart so 
 often." 
 
 He looked down at the pretty painted toy, which seemed, in 
 its delicate perfume and grace, a part of herself. 
 
 " By such things are men swayed ! " he said, as if to himself. 
 Then he added, with a smile: "To show you that even bears are 
 susceptible to flattery, I will promise not to be hard on your 
 protege the young gentleman who plays with ' advanced ' ideas 
 on all the great problems of humanity as if they were a set of in- 
 tellectual toys devised for his amusement." 
 
 "He is young," she said, apologetically, "and of course all 
 clever young men unless they have some better anchor for 
 thought than he has go with the current of their age. Instead 
 of bestowing merely a word or two of ridicule, why do you not 
 seriously refute some of his theories?" 
 
 "Nay," said Godwin, curtly, "that is not work for me. I 
 fight the leaders, but as for refuting every stray disciple, every 
 boy who has merely caught the jargon of the different schools
 
 44: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 good Lord deliver me ! There have been fools from the begin- 
 ning, there will be fools to the end, but Bpearing them is poor 
 sport." 
 
 " You are incorrigible," said she, smiling. " I shall waste no 
 further expostulation on you. Tell me what you are doing 
 what work, I mean? " 
 
 " Just now," he answered, " I am preparing a series of papers 
 on 'The Political and Social Aspect of Russia.' I spent five 
 months in the country, to observe for myself, and, though five 
 years would hardly suffice for the work of thorough observation, 
 still I had learned the language, I had many influential acquaint- 
 ances, and I was perfectly free from prejudice. I had no more 
 sympathy with the Russophobists than I had belief in M. Karl 
 Blind and his friends. I went to see what one intelligent, unpre- 
 judiced man could discover for himself, and I shall profess to tell 
 no more than that to the readers of my articles." 
 
 " I shall look for them with eagerness," she said ; " but, mean- 
 while, can not you, who often crystallize so much into a brief 
 phrase, tell us what was the result of your observation ? " 
 
 "Pray do, M. Godwin," said a Roumanian countess, who, 
 attracted by the word Russia, had drawn near to listen. 
 
 Then Godwin lifted his lion-like head, for a German diplo- 
 mate came up also, and he liked nothing so well as an audience. 
 He was an admirable talker, brilliant and powerful, with a man- 
 ner hardly less trenchant than his written style a style which 
 often made even those who did not agree with his argument cry, 
 "Heavens! with what force the man writes! " 
 
 He talked now with equal force, and the diplomate, taking fire, 
 began to combat some of his conclusions. The countess, eager 
 for the fray, chimed in, taking issue now with one, now with the 
 other. Those around began to listen. Scenes like this were com- 
 mon in Mrs. Falconer's salon. 
 
 At last Godwin ended it by rising abruptly. " I have given 
 you so much of the kernel of my thoughts," he said, " that I am 
 afraid you will not care much about the shell of them when they 
 appear in print. Remember that I do not expect either the par- 
 tisans of revolution or the apologists of the government to agree 
 with me. I condemn both, and I have sympathy for both. The
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 45 
 
 oppressions are undoubted, and the difficulties that beset the gov- 
 ernment are gigantic. It is an impressive spectacle which that 
 great nation presents throwing off the fetters of barbarism and 
 struggling toward the light of civilization, the while rent and torn 
 by the duel d mort of two deadly enemies, an irresponsible au- 
 tocracy and a wide-spread secret society committed to the most 
 destructive aims, and seeking them in the most dastardly manner. 
 
 "But," he went on, warming again, " the Russian people pos- 
 sess two great levers for good, did a wise ruler know how to use 
 them their deeply rooted sentiments of devotion and loyalty. 
 Though the national church is sunk in the depths of ignorance 
 and corruption, the mass of the people retain religious faith ; and, 
 though the rulers grind them like powder, they still call the Czar 
 their father. But ' Heaven is high and the Czar is far,' says their 
 native proverb ; and if Heaven and the Czar can not be brought 
 nearer, the day which will see the double burial of faith and loy- 
 alty is not distant. And when the masses hearken to those who 
 cry, ' Dreamers, there is no heaven : arise ! let us possess the 
 tilings of the earth,' then the Romanoffs may take heed, and on 
 that day there are other thrones that will tremble also, M. le 
 Comte." 
 
 The next moment he had quitted the salon, leaving Count 
 Schewndorf in the act of shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 " A singular man ! " he said. " If he is neither for the gov- 
 ernment nor for the people, what is he? " 
 
 "He is a free-lance," answered Mrs. Falconer. "He says to 
 rulers, ' Here are your blunders ! ' and to the people, ' There lies 
 madness ! ' " 
 
 " The task of critic is an easy one," said the diplomats; "but 
 to say, ' Here are your remedies ' that is more difficult." 
 
 "A countryman of yours, is he not?" asked the countess of 
 Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " Ob, no," she answered. " He is an Englishman from what 
 you call the Xorth Country, do you not, Mrs. Percy? and has 
 made a great success as an essayist, political and social. Count 
 Schewndorf, you read the English Journals, I know ; did you see in 
 a late ' Nineteenth Century ' his paper on ' Phases of Modern 
 Thought ' ? "
 
 46 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Before Count Schewndorf could reply, a new-comer entered 
 the salon a slender, handsome man, with a lofty ease of bearing 
 that sat well upon him. His finely shaped head was covered with 
 dark, close-clipped curls which were thinning away from the tem- 
 ples; his face was boldly and clearly cut, and his dark, thoughtful 
 eyes were so deep-set that they looked smaller than they were in 
 reality. Diffused over him, like a perfume, was the nameless 
 charm which distinguishes in such high degree the French gentil- 
 homme, and his manner had the simplicity and grace of the finest 
 breeding. 
 
 " I am charmed to welcome you back to Paris, madame," he 
 said, bowing over Mrs. Falconer's hand, " and you perceive that 
 I lose no time in giving myself that pleasure since I had my first 
 glimpse of you in the Bois this afternoon." 
 
 " I have not been many days in Paris, M. le Marquis," she an- 
 swered. " But you I fancied you still in Scotland. At least, 
 Lady Falconer mentioned in her last letter that you were at Gleii- 
 rochan." 
 
 " I am afraid Lady Falconer can not be a very good corre- 
 spondent," he replied ; " or else her letter must have been long in 
 reaching you, for I left Glenrochan several weeks ago." 
 
 " How stupid of me to forget that the letter followed me from 
 the Tyrol ! " said she, with a smile. " But you see I realize the at- 
 tractions of Glenrochan so strongly that nothing is easier for me 
 to imagine than the possibility of any one's remaining there indefi- 
 nitely." 
 
 " Yet you went away," he said ; and, though the words were 
 simple, the accent was expressive. 
 
 " There comes a time when one must leave even the most 
 charming place," she answered. 
 
 " There comes a time, unfortunately, when one is ready to leave 
 even the most charming place," he said. " Glenrochan is no ex- 
 ception to the rule." 
 
 "Were you, then, ready to leave it?" she asked. "I know 
 that ennui is the fiend that lies in wait for you in most places; 
 but I thought Glenrochan might have proved an exception. The 
 shooting there is very good, is it not ? And I have heard that you 
 are de premiere force in matters of sport."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 47 
 
 " I have given much time to sport, and derived a good deal of 
 pleasure from it," he replied. " But my taste for it is intermittent 
 subject to sudden and almost total eclipse. My English friends 
 think that is because I am a Frenchman but I think differently." 
 
 " And if I may be permitted an opinion," she said, "I think 
 that it is because your tastes might perhaps be known under an- 
 other name." 
 
 " And that is " 
 
 " Caprices." 
 
 " JA, madame, quelle injustice! What have I done to give 
 you such an opinion ? " 
 
 " It is rather what you have said than what you have done, so 
 far as I am concerned," she answered. " I have heard you speak 
 of liking many things by turns, and nothing long." 
 
 " I fear I must plead guilty to that charge," he said. " But 
 there may be an explanation besides caprice. Almost every one 
 has more than one side to his nature. I have been blessed, or 
 cursed, with many ; and sometimes one is uppermost, sometimes 
 another. To-day one order of pleasures attracts me, to-morrow 
 another. Can you wonder that my tastes do not remain fixed 
 during these changes ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not," she replied ; " but such a character must be a 
 great misfortune." 
 
 " I am not sure of that. It enables one to taste a number of 
 varied interests, and it saves one from finding life hopelessly dull 
 when any of them fail." 
 
 " But at what a cost ! " she said. " You are never certain that 
 what you like to-day may not disgust you to-morrow. You can 
 never be sure of yourself, and others can never be sure of you." 
 
 " That is a complaint which I am happy to say my friends have 
 never made," he answered. " There are a few points on -which 
 I do not change. But there is no stupidity greater than the stu- 
 pidity of talking of one's self! Pardon me, and let me ask what 
 you have been doing since we parted ? " 
 
 " You wish to make me commit the stupidity of talking of my- 
 self ? " she asked, with a laugh. " I can not fall into such a pal- 
 pable trap. And, fortunately, here conjes Mr. Stanhope, whom I 
 hardly think you have seen since his return to Paris."
 
 48 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 The Marquis had not seen Mr. Stanhope since his return, and 
 the meeting between the two was even more cordial than Mrs. 
 Falconer anticipated. Their greetings over, they began to talk of 
 Stanhope's late wanderings, in which M. de Chateaumesnil ex- 
 pressed great interest. 
 
 "I almost wish I had been with you," he said. "A summer 
 in Scandinavia must have made an effective contrast to a winter 
 in Asia Minor." 
 
 " But Mr. Stanhope spoiled the effect of the contrast by intro- 
 ducing two or three months of Paris between Asia Minor and Nor- 
 way," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " It did not diminish the effect," said Stanhope. "My mind 
 was still filled to overflowing with Eastern pictures, with the 
 memories of Eastern types, and the Scandinavian characters and 
 customs broke on these like a Northern morning on an Oriental 
 night. It was like stepping from the 'Arabian Nights ' into the 
 ' Nibelungenlied.' " 
 
 " What an advantage these Jiommesde la plume have over us 
 prosaic men of practical life! " said the Marquis. " One striking 
 metaphor conveys more to the imagination than many words of 
 description." 
 
 " It conveys an impression yes," said Stanhope, " but it is 
 by no means always an accurate one ; and, being striking, it is 
 therefore the more likely to be misleading. I am inclined to class 
 the use of metaphor among vicious habits." 
 
 "And self-depreciation is another vicious habit," said Mrs. 
 Falconer. u Fancy M. de Chateaumesnil classing himself among 
 'prosaic men of practical life ' 1 " 
 
 " Should I then class myself among men of impractical life ? " 
 asked he, smiling. 
 
 In this way talk flowed on, pleasantly enough, certainly ; yet 
 Stanhope could not altogether restrain a sense of impatience at 
 the absolute lack of opportunity to exchange a few private words 
 with Mrs. Falconer. But all things come to him who knows how 
 to wait ; and presently, when the room had nearly emptied, and 
 the Marquis went to pay his respects to Mrs. Vance, he at last 
 found his chance. 
 
 " I natter myself that I have behaved with great self-control
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 49 
 
 and decorum," lie said, "considering how anxious I have been to 
 hear what you think of Madame Lescar and her daughter." 
 
 " Yes, you have behaved with great decorum," she answered, 
 smiling, " but I knew you were impatient. Now, what shall I 
 tell you? There is but one thing to think of Madame Lescar. 
 She is all that you have said, and more if more could be." 
 
 " But the daughter what do you think of her ? " 
 
 "That is not so easy to answer. I am as yet only able to 
 think that she is very remarkable." 
 
 " There are many ways of being remarkable," said Stanhope, 
 who did not find this reply very satisfactory. " You can at least 
 tell whether you were pleased with her or not? " 
 
 " No," she answered, " I can not tell that, for hers is not a 
 simple, direct character to be read at a glance, but a very com- 
 plex one. I can only say that I am interested even more inter- 
 ested than by your description." 
 
 " That is something gained for I may frankly confess that 
 I count much upon you in this matter. What should I do 
 if left to myself with such an explosive compound on my 
 hands?" 
 
 Mrs. Falconer laughed. " I have not discovered anything in 
 her of an explosive nature," she said, "unless it be the strength 
 of her feeling for her mother. Poor girl ! My heart aches to 
 think what a crushing blow is before her. And, thinking of it, 
 I have determined as far as possible to win her regard, in order 
 that I may be of some comfort to her at that time." 
 
 "You could not have a more charitable purpose," he said, 
 " for there could not be a more desolate creature upon the earth 
 than she will be in that hour." 
 
 " I am sure of it," she answered. " I have read her well 
 enough to see that. And, by-the-by, do you feel inclined to act 
 some day as our escort to Versailles ? I perceive that the only 
 way in which I can cultivate her acquaintance will be by arrang- 
 ing excursions which will also have the advantage of giving her 
 fresh air and recreation." 
 
 " You know that you may command me, for Versailles or any- 
 where else." 
 
 "I know that you are always very kind."
 
 50 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "It is not exactly kindness in this case," he answered, " since 
 I am directly accountable for the trouble you are taking." 
 
 "Have you ever observed," said Mrs. Falconer, turning to 
 M. de Chateaumesnil, who again approached, "that Mr. Stanhope 
 has a great aversion to being credited with any philanthropic or 
 kindly impulses?" 
 
 "Yes," replied the Marquis; u I know that, if one ever com- 
 mends his sympathetic quality, he desires it to be understood that 
 he regards human nature entirely en philosophe." 
 
 "So I do," said Stanhope, "and therefore I deserve no credit 
 for any apparent sympathy. But since I do not wish to be forced 
 to such unflattering candor with regard to myself, permit me, 
 madame, to bid you good-night." 
 
 The Marquis followed his example ; and, as they left the room 
 together, said : "If you are going down into Paris, will you not 
 take a seat in my coup6 f It is below." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 STANHOPE had been right when he acknowledged to Mrs. Fal- 
 coner that many things which common report averred of the 
 Marquis de Chuteaumesnil were true. He wa?, indeed, exceedingly 
 well known in the gay world of Paris, though his fame belonged 
 rather to the past than to the present, as time is reckoned in the 
 fast modern world. A few years before the date of this story, he 
 had been one of the most conspicuous figures among the host of 
 viveurs who flutter through a short, splendid life in that capital of 
 the kingdom of pleasure. A favorite of the salons, a leader in the 
 Jockey Club, a bold rider, an intrepid duelist, a daring winner or 
 imperturbable loser over the green cloth, what more was needed 
 for fame in Paris ? Yet, as Stanhope had said, there was excuse 
 for his folly. Belonging to one of those noble families of France 
 which had given courtiers and ministers to the courts of its kings, 
 from St. Louis to Charles Dix, it is almost needless to add that 
 the traditions in which he was educated were those of strictest 
 legitimacy ; and that, like many another Frenchman of his order 
 and political creed, he grew to manhood without discerning for
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 51 
 
 himself any possible place in the public life of his country, although 
 to brilliant mental ability he united an ambition which would 
 have supplied the motive-power for climbing any height. It is a 
 law of the moral as well as of the physical world that force re- 
 strained in one direction will find its outlet in another; so it was 
 not surprising that when the death of his father, in the last years 
 of the Second Empire, left httn in possession of a fortune sufficient 
 to maintain the dignity of his name, he became a celebrity in 
 Paris, according to the manner described above. How long his 
 career might have lasted, with what result on his character and 
 fortune, there is no difficulty in conjecturing. Happily (for him), 
 the end came with the fall of the empire. "When war became in- 
 vasion, he, like most of his class, though disowning the govern- 
 ment, entered the army of France. They fell by scores, the gal- 
 lant victims of an almost universal imbecility but De Chateau- 
 mesnil was not among the number. He was severely wounded, 
 but recovered, to fling himself, heart and soul, into that tide whicli 
 almost carried France to the port of legitimate monarchy. The 
 failure of the movement is written in history. Then overcome by 
 despair and disgust he dropped all interest in public affairs, and 
 unable to take up again the toys he had thrown aside when called 
 to arms, wounded in body, sick in spirit, broken in fortune, ho 
 left France and spent several years in traveling. Thus it chanced 
 that he met Stanhope in the Levant, that acquaintance ripened to 
 friendship, and finally that they spent a winter together in Syria 
 and Arabia. On their return to Paris in the spring, the intimacy 
 continued, and was only suspended when the marquis went to 
 England in June, while Stanhope started on the Scandinavian tour 
 from which he had just returned. 
 
 It was natural that, as they rolled down the Champs-Elyses, 
 the conversation which began at Mrs. Falconer's door should have 
 had her for its subject. " A very charming woman," the Marquis 
 said. " And since I am indebted to you, man ami, for my intro- 
 duction to her, I feel bound to acknowledge the obligation afresh." 
 
 " Oh," said Stanhope, " you would have met her in any event. 
 Your connection with Lady Falconer made that certain. It was 
 only a question of time." 
 
 " Sana doute : but you anticipated the time, aud therefore wheu
 
 52 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 wo met in London it was as acquaintances. And I found her 
 acquaintance a distinction," he added, smiling. " She achieved a 
 striking success, and might have been one of the celebrities of the 
 season had she made the least effort in that direction." 
 
 " There is nothing she would be less likely to make,'' said 
 Stanhope. "I have never known any one who cared less for 
 social notoriety, or who was better fitted to wield social power." 
 
 " Elle est grande damejusqiCau lout des angles" observed the 
 other. " It may not be it is hardly likely to be a common type 
 among your countrywomen, but here is a proof that it exists." 
 
 " My countrywomen," said Stanhope, "are, as a general rule, 
 very flexible and adaptive ; but Mrs. Falconer possesses those qual- 
 ities in superlative degree, with a refinement and an intellectual 
 grace wholly her own. It may be well to remember also that, 
 despite her wealth, she does not spring from a plutocracy of yes- 
 terday, but from the old gentry of the South." 
 
 "No doubt that explains a great deal. "What has been said 
 that it takes three generations to make a gentleman ? But I should 
 say that, even then, the gentleman would be of very inferior pat- 
 tern. And what is true of one sex, must be, in greater or less de- 
 gree, true of the other." 
 
 " Mrs. Falconer has generations enough behind her," said Stan- 
 hope. "You could put her in no position where she would not 
 be able to hold her own with grace and dignity. I do not exag- 
 gerate her capabilities, for I have known her a long time ; and I 
 please myself by anticipating a brilliant future for her." 
 
 "I am quite sure that you do not exaggerate her capabilities," 
 said the Marquis; "but is not her present brilliant enough to sat- 
 isfy you ? She seems to possess everything that the heart of woman 
 can desire great wealth, assured position, unlimited homage." 
 
 "She possesses those things," answered Stanhope. "But she 
 is without a definite object toward which to direct them." 
 
 "And in what form do you think that a definite object would 
 be found ? " 
 
 " Perhaps in marriage, if marriage meant alliance with a man 
 who possessed the ability to win personal distinction one whoso 
 career her own powers could aid. She is emphatically femme du 
 monde"
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 53 
 
 " I presume," said the Marquis, after a pause, " that her mar- 
 riage was unhappy? " 
 
 "Yes. She escaped total shipwreck so narrowly that I am 
 sometimes inclined to believe that she will never embark on the 
 sea of matrimony again. Hers is not a passionate nature. She is 
 capable of affection, and has one of the kindest hearts imaginable ; 
 but strong emotion plays no part in her life. Hence, she will never 
 think the world well lost for love, and neither has she any of the 
 commonplace ambition that would lead her to marry merely for 
 higher rank. It would need to be a combination of remarkable 
 qualities of character and accidents of fortune that would tempt 
 her to resign her present freedom." 
 
 There was another pause. The carriage was turning into the 
 Place de la Concorde, starred with its brilliant lights, when the 
 marquis said : 
 
 " Is it not within the limit of possible things that you might be 
 the tempter yourself? " 
 
 "I!" replied Stanhope. "Nothing could be more improb- 
 able I may say impossible. What pretensions have I to aspire 
 to the hand of such a woman as Mrs. Falconer ? Her wealth alone 
 would crush me. Then, what would become of the brilliant future 
 which I anticipate for her ? Should I shiver my own castle ? E"o : 
 we are too good friends ever to be anything more." 
 
 " You believe, then, in friendship between man and woman ? " 
 
 "I believe in it, yes. And I am sorry for the man or woman 
 who does not believe in it. There is a coarseness of mind in those 
 who think that passion is the only ground for regard between the 
 
 "I do not wish to be guilty of coarseness of mind," said the 
 
 Marquis, " and I certainly believe in friendship of the kind, under 
 
 some circumstances. But under others for instance, where youth 
 
 and attractive qualities exist on both sides I think it is, at best, 
 
 a playing with fire in which one or the other is generally scorched." 
 
 " As a general rule, true enough. But you can not apply " 
 
 "Do not imagine that I intend the least personal application," 
 
 interposed the other. " And no one admires the theories of Plato 
 
 more than I do ; though I regret to say that I have always made 
 
 a conspicuous failure in endeavoring to practice them."
 
 54 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Stanhope laughed. " I wonder if you have ever attempted to 
 do so ? " he said. 
 
 " Mafoi, yes! It is the prettiest of games for a time. But 
 the women with whom I have played it were of a different caliber 
 from your fair compatriot. What a frank glance she has 1 how 
 little coquetry there is in it ! I used to agree with La Roche- 
 foucauld that coquetry is the basis of character in woman or, at 
 least, the basis of charm but she has almost converted me to 
 another opinion. I can fancy the purest, frankest friendship alto- 
 gether possible with Tier. But would it be possible with any man 
 less spirituel than yourself ? " 
 
 "I am not spirituel^ said Stanhope, a little shortly. "It is 
 simply my safeguard or my misfortune, as you choose to consider 
 it, that my inveterate habit of analyzing character and emotion 
 stands effectually in the way of a passion which must be largely 
 imaginative.*' 
 
 "Ah! You think, then, that illusion is always its founda- 
 tion." 
 
 " Undoubtedly and generally illusion of the most absurd and 
 monstrous kind. There is really nothing in life like it. We laugh 
 over Titania's apostrophe to Bottom's ears; but are not follies 
 identical with that going on around us all the time? nay, have 
 we not ourselves been guilty of them ? What is there at once so 
 ludicrous and so pitiable as to look with disenchanted eyes at the 
 object of such a passion? You spoke of La Eochefoucauld a 
 moment ago. Do you remember his maxim, ' II n'y a guere de 
 gens qui ne soient Tionteux de s'etre aimes qutand Us ne Raiment 
 plus ' .' For my part, I never see a man or woman madly in love, 
 without desiring to suggest to him or her what numbers of people 
 there are in the world equally if not more desirable than the one 
 desired. But you know what the answer would be to that the 
 answer which is the staple of so much passion and romance and 
 sublime faithfulness and insufferable folly." 
 
 "Yes," said the Marquis, with a smile. "But it is a divine 
 folly, after all, and when the capability for it is passed, one may 
 feel that he has said adieu to his youth and who ever said adieu 
 to youth without regret ? " 
 
 " If one were wise, ono would bid it adieu with pleasure," re-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 55 
 
 plied Stanhope. "The calmness, the self-possession of mature 
 life is worth more than its feverish delights." 
 
 " To you, perhaps whose amhition is moderate, whose pow- 
 ers are disciplined, whose passions are in subjection, and whose 
 mind is keenly alive to every source of enjoyment. But to 
 others" 
 
 " ' If thy friend praise thee, contradict him not,' " said Stanhope, 
 laughing. "I don't deserve a word you have uttered, except 
 about the moderate ambition but let it pass ! I only fail to see 
 why you should not be glad to be free from the fever and fret of 
 youth, as well as I." 
 
 " For a simple reason what does mature life bring me ? Only 
 weariness of spirit, that in a little while will lead mo to say with 
 Constant, ' Je nc vois de motifs pour rien dans ce monde, et je n'ai 
 do gout pour rien? There are men who can carry the toys of 
 youth even into old age. There is no probability of my being 
 able to do so. And when they have ceased to amuse me, what is 
 to take their place ? " 
 
 This was a difficult question to answer, and Stanhope was, 
 perhaps, not sorry that the carriage stopped at that moment 
 before the door of his hotel, where, after making an engagement 
 to breakfast together next morning, the two friends parted. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Voild, mademoiselle une lettre pour DOUS ! " 
 Irene turned in surprise, for letters addressed to herself were 
 rare things in her experience. She had been sitting in the salon, 
 a book open before her, but her eyes gazing through the window 
 toward the Avenue, where the morning sunshine was pouring on 
 the changing foliage of the trees, on the equestrians riding under 
 them to and from the Bois, on children and bonnes taking air 
 along the broad pavements. It was a bright scene, but the girl's 
 eyes did not reflect any of its brightness. They were thoughtful, 
 almost sad, when she was roused by Nathalie's voice and turned 
 to see the letter presented. 
 
 " For mo ! " she said, in an incredulous tone, as she took it.
 
 56 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Then she saw that it was addressed to herself in a quaint Italian 
 handwriting, and that the post-mark was Milan. " Ah ! " she 
 cried, with a flash of light on her face, " it is from the maestro ! 
 Nathalie, what is mamma doing? " 
 
 "Madame has risen, and is taking her cafe au lait" replied 
 Nathalie. 
 
 The girl said no more, hut rose, crossed the room quickly, and 
 lifting a portiere, knocked on the door behind it. " Entrez!" 
 said a languid voice, and she opened the door, revealing a pretty 
 chamber, with soft, striped hangings. In a deep easy-chair Ma- 
 dame Lescar sat, wrapped in a cashmere robe de chambre, with her 
 breakfast-equipage on a small tray at her side. As it is in the 
 morning that youth and health are most beautiful, so it is in the 
 morning that age and illness are most apparent. "When Stanhope 
 saw Madame Lescar, he thought that she looked very ill ; but she 
 looked as ill again seen thus, with her sunken cheeks, her pallid 
 skin, and her dark- circled eyes unrelieved by toilet, or by that 
 rallying of the vital force which the day brings. 
 
 Irene's manner became subdued the moment she crossed the 
 threshold. She went forward with the utmost quietness, and, 
 when she bent to kiss her mother's cheek, it was as if a freshly 
 opened lily touched a faded and dying one. 
 
 "A happy day, mamma dearest! " she said, softly, in Italian. 
 " How have you slept ? " 
 
 " As well as usual," replied Madame Lescar. " I am glad to 
 hear you speak Italian again, carissima. It is the first word of it 
 you have uttered in weeks." 
 
 "I spoke without thinking," the girl answered, smiling, "but 
 you will not be surprised when you know that I have a letter from 
 the maestro. Here it is " she did not show tho letter until she 
 had said this. " Will you read it ? " 
 
 " Nay," said Madame Lescar, glancing at the address, " it is 
 to you. Read it yourself." 
 
 " I will read it aloud, then," said the girl, and, drawing for- 
 ward a low stool, she sat down at her mother's feet, and, breaking 
 the seal, opened the inclosure. 
 
 It was written in Italian, and conveyed an affectionate message 
 from tho master to tho pupil, " the sweet singing-bird," whom
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 57 
 
 he missed, with many injunctions and directions to practice her 
 voice, and many hopes that she would soon wing her flight back 
 to Italy. 
 
 '' The dear maestro ! " said Irene, when she finished reading. 
 " Was it not good of him, in the midst of all his pupils and les- 
 sons and vexations, to think of and write to me ? " 
 
 " He thinks much of you, and more of your voice," said Ma- 
 dame Lescar. " He could hardly forgive me for taking you away. 
 ' It is a pearl among voices,' he said, ' and she will neglect, she 
 will tarnish it.' Are you not neglecting it, mia cara f How often 
 have you sung since we have been in Paris ? " 
 
 " Not often," answered the girl. " But how could I ? You 
 have been so ill I so sad." 
 
 " Listen, my child, and heed this," said the mother, gravely ; 
 "let nothing interrupt the work of life or, if forced to interrupt 
 it by some pressing need, resume it again as soon as possible. If 
 you are suffering, it will not make you suffer more, but rather 
 less. Have you been less sad because you did not exercise your 
 voice ? It is true that, if you feared to disturb me, that was a good 
 reason. But put such a fear aside. Your singing never disturbs 
 me. Go, then, this morning, and practice as the maestro bids 
 you." 
 
 " I will go in half an hour," said Irene, with the simplicity of 
 a child and the obedience of a soldier ; " but you must let me 
 read your ' meditation ' to you as usual." 
 
 She took up, as she spoke, a book of French devotional exer- 
 cises, and read one of the chapters, while Madame Lescar slowly 
 drank her cafe au lait, and ate a little of the bread which accom- 
 panied it. 
 
 When the chapter was finished, Irene put the book down, but 
 still remained on her lowly seat, her hands clasped around her 
 knees, and her eyes lifted to the blue sky that looked down on 
 them through the window near which they sat. It requires a 
 very beautiful face to bear this upward position, which brings out 
 so clearly all the lines of the cheek and chin and throat, but those 
 lines were so perfect in this face that the mother's gaze lingered 
 on it with an admiration which forgot to be sad, and was only 
 fond and proud. For the moment, she did not think what the life
 
 58 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 of tliis richly endowed creature should have been nor yet what 
 her future might be. She only felt that pleasure in contemplation 
 which harmonious loveliness inspires. 
 
 " I wonder," said the girl at last, dreamily, " if that is what I 
 am meant to do to sing? The maestro thinks so; he says that 
 such a voice is a great and wonderful gift, not to be lightly re- 
 garded. ' To you it is given to express what others only feel,' ho 
 said. But it does not seem to me that the expression is complete. 
 When I pour my soul out in song which mounts yonder" she 
 pointed to the sky " I feel as if it ought to carry a greater mean- 
 ing." 
 
 "That is the note of incompleteness which enters into every 
 human chord," said the mother. 
 
 Irene shook her head. "Ko,"she said, "it is not that. I 
 scarcely understand myself so I can not make you understand 
 what it is. But, if I puzzle myself, it does not matter. When 
 one's life has a strong, controlling purpose, all things else count 
 for little." 
 
 " And what is that purpose with you? " asked Madame Les- 
 car, startled by the decision of those words. 
 
 Irene turned, with a motion as if recall ed'to herself, and, meet- 
 ing the soft gaze fastened on her, said, with a smile of exceeding 
 sweetness : 
 
 " To do everything that you desire. And that means, just 
 now, to go and practice." 
 
 She rose as she spoke, and, bending, kissed the thin cheek 
 again, saying, " I will sing all your favorite songs." 
 
 When the door had closed upon her, Madame Lescar leaned 
 back in her chair, and looked up into the same blue sky on which 
 the girl's eyes had been fixed. 
 
 "To do everything that I desire! "she repeated to herself. 
 "But when that can no longer be a motive, what then? " 
 
 Half an hour later, the clear, beautiful voice, having executed 
 many scales and trills, was pouring all its silvery power and fresh- 
 ness into one of Gordigiani's songs, when Nathalie opened the 
 door of the salon to a"dmit Mrs. Falconer. Ir6ne, absorbed in 
 singing, did not hear any sound, and the lady motioned the serv- 
 ant to be eilent, while she herself paused, full of surprise and that
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 59 
 
 keen delight "which lovers of music most fully know. It was as 
 little as possible what she had expected this wonderful voice fill- 
 ing the room with floods of glorious sound. When it died away 
 in the last cadence, she caught her breath, and then went quickly 
 forward, as Irene rose and turned around. 
 
 "Forgive me," she said, "but the temptation was too great 
 what could I do but listen ? "What a voice you have ! Do you 
 know how beautiful it is? " 
 
 "I think I do," answered Irene, quietly. "I have a master 
 who has praised it highly, and I know what I can do with it. 
 But not here, this room is too small." 
 
 " Yes, almost any room would be too small. But will you not 
 come and sing once, at least in my large salon? It would give 
 me so much pleasure to hear you where you could let out your 
 voice more fully. Ah, Madame Lescar" as that lady entered 
 " you have coine in time for me to appeal to you ! I am charmed 
 with your daughter's singing, and I venture to petition that I may 
 hear her in my salon, which is much larger and loftier than this. 
 T'ill you allow her to gratify me ? " 
 
 " Surely, yes," answered Madame Lescar, with a cordial smile. 
 " I should be glad fOr you to hear her to the best advantage. 
 She will be happy to sing for you will you not, ma cherie? " 
 
 " Some time, mamma, when you are quite well," answered the 
 girl. 
 
 " We will not wait for that," replied her mother, calmly. " I 
 am so much better just now that there is no reason why you 
 should not go on any day which Mrs. Falconer will appoint." 
 
 "I am like a child," said that lady. " No day seems to me so 
 good as to-day. I am disengaged for this evening, and if you will 
 permit your daughter to dine with me strictly en famille, ex- 
 cept that I should like Mr. Stanhope, if possible, to be with us 
 acd share the pleasure of hearing her I shall be exceedingly 
 happy." 
 
 Madame Lescar hesitated for a moment. Then she said : " As 
 you may imagine, she is, with regard to society, a child yet. She 
 has never accepted an invitation; but it is as well, perhaps, that 
 she should begin. Indeed, I feel" here the dark, lustrous eyes 
 looked steadily and gravely at Mrs. Falconer " that Heaven has
 
 CO HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 been good in sending you to open a little the door of her cloistered 
 life. She shall dine with yon." 
 
 Unconsciously the last words had a solemnity both to herself 
 and to her listeners. A common social act this, of breaking 
 bread under another's roof, yet here it meant and each felt that 
 it meant the first step into a new life. 
 
 " Thank you," answered Mrs. Falconer, meeting the gaze with 
 her own frank and earnest one. " Believe me, I feel your trust. 
 I only wish that it were possible for mo to have the happiness of 
 receiving you also." 
 
 " That, however, is impossible, for the doctor's orders are 
 strict no excitement, little society, early hours," replied Madame 
 Lescar, smiling. 
 
 " A propos of early hours," said Mrs. Falconer, " I came to 
 ask if we could not arrange a party for Versailles to-morrow. I 
 see that mademoiselle is reluctant " as she caught Irene's expres- 
 sion of face "but I thought that it would interest her to go, if 
 you were well enough for her to leave you with an easy mind." 
 
 "I could not go out this evening and to-morrow both," said 
 Irene, quickly, with an appealing look at her mother. 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Falconer, " I should not ask that. If you 
 come to me this evening, we will appoint another day for Ver- 
 sailles." 
 
 "You are very kind," said Madame Lescar. "I understand 
 and appreciate all your thoughtfulness. But," she added, "do 
 not defer the party too long. The fine weather may change." 
 
 " We must guard against that danger by making an early ap- 
 pointment," said Mrs. Falconer. "I will consult Mr. Stanhope, 
 who has promised to accompany us ; and do you object if I also 
 include a cousin of my own un jeune homme ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," answered Madame Lescar. " I trust Irene 
 to you unreservedly, sure that while under your care she will 
 meet no one whom she should not know. I do not wish to keep 
 her from meeting men, now that she is old enough to do so." 
 Then she said in a lower tone: "Nothing is so dangerous as igno- 
 rance. She must learn to guide herself." 
 
 The dropping of her voice conveyed to Ir6ne a subtile intima- 
 tion that she desired to speak to Mrs. Falconer alone. The girl
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 61 
 
 rose, therefore, and softly left the room. Both ladies followed 
 with their eyes the motions of her tall, graceful figure; and, 
 when the door closed, their eyes met. In that glance everything 
 was revealed between them the keen anxiety of the one, the 
 deep sympathy of the other. After a moment, Madame Lescar 
 spoke : 
 
 " You eee you recognize," she said, " all that I feel with re- 
 gard to her." 
 
 "I see, and I do not wonder," Mrs. Falconer answered in a 
 compassionate tone. " She is so beautiful, and she has such rare 
 gifts." 
 
 " And a nature so perilously endowed, that it is impossible to 
 imagine any common destiny for her and common destinies aro 
 the happiest." 
 
 " She may have a common destiny," said Mrs. Falconer ; " she 
 may love, she may marry." 
 
 Madame Lescar's brow contracted as if in pain. 
 
 " God forbid that I should wish her not to do so if it were 
 possible for her to find happiness in that state! " she said ; "but 
 if the perils of life are great in every other direction, they are for 
 her tenfold greater in that. I know the loneliness in which sho 
 will soon be left ; but, facing it all, I can not wish, I can not hope, 
 that she may marry." 
 
 There was a moment's pause. Mrs. Falconer could not say, 
 " Is the memory of your own marriage the cause of this ? " but 
 the thought was in her mind, and Madame Lescar answered it. 
 
 "The recollection of my marriage has little part in what I feel 
 with regard to her," she said. "It is of Tier that I think of her 
 mind that soars so high, of her passion that strikes BO deep, of 
 her character which is so strongly outlined, of her nature so sen- 
 sitively poised. It would be a rare chance that would send into 
 her life a man capable of meeting all the demands of that nature; 
 and if she failed to find such a man, and married one of any com- 
 mon type, the result would be misery. See! " she said, breaking 
 off with a faint smile, "how I take 'your interest in her for 
 granted, when I speak, and with such confidence." 
 
 " I feel your confidence very much," answered Mrs. Falconer, 
 " and you take my interest for granted because it exists. ,1 have
 
 62 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 seldom met any one who excited it so much as your daughter 
 does." 
 
 Madame Lescar laid her hand down on the hand of the other. 
 " It is my earnest hope that she may win your friendship," she 
 said, in a tone as if she were pleading. " The time is coming 
 coming very fast when she will be left so utterly alone! " 
 
 To resist this appeal was, to the warm-hearted woman ad- 
 dressed, impossible. She clasped the thin, feverish hand in her 
 own as she said earnestly: " Do not regard it as a hope, but as a 
 certainty. The friendship is hers, and, as far as lies in my power, 
 she shall not be left alone." 
 
 Each felt that further words were unnecessary. The pledge 
 had been given and would be kept. There was silence for a mo- 
 ment, and then Mrs. Falconer rose. 
 
 " I shall look for Mademoiselle Lescar this evening," she said. 
 " I dine at seven." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MRS. FALCONER'S invitation was, as Madame Lescar said, an 
 era in Irene's life. The girl had never been out, in a social sense, 
 before ; and if the occasion had called for any display of toilet, 
 she would have been altogether unprepared. But, even for a 
 more considerable occasion than a dinner en famille, nothing, ac- 
 cording to French taste, could have been more suitable than her 
 simple but graceful dress of cream-colored cashmere, with a clus- 
 ter of fresh crimson roses at her belt, and another nestling in the 
 lace around her throat. Madame Lescar herself fastened these 
 flowers, and looked with admiration at the beautiful picture 
 which the girl made slender and straight as a lily, the soft tint 
 and folds of her dress just what a painter would have asked, the 
 only point of strong color about her that which the roses pre- 
 sented. But as she looked, it was impossible not to remember 
 her own brilliant yonth, not to think what a different debut her 
 daughter should have had ! Before her imagination long salons 
 opened, where that stately form would have walked with so 
 much grace. She saw the shining draperies, the jewels, the lights, 
 and then
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 63 
 
 " You are lovely, my darling ! " she said, with passionate 
 fondness. "I could not wish you other than you are." 
 
 " I wish myself other," said Irene, kissing her. u I wish that 
 I had your coloring and your eyes. That is all which I value in 
 myself what is like you. The rest " She made a quick gesture 
 signifying that it was of no account. 
 
 "You have no need to desire any change in yourself," said 
 the mother. " Ahl here comes Nathalie just as you are ready." 
 
 Nathalie, who had been sent to call a carriage, entered with a 
 cloak hanging on her arm a long, silk, fur-lined cloak to wrap 
 around Irdne. 
 
 "Ah, mademoiselle, quelle charmante toilette 1" she cried, 
 with a Frenchwoman's quick eye for effect. " Et vous etes bien 
 coiffee. Madame a les doigts d'une fe." Then addressing her 
 mistress, "La voiture est arrived, madame." 
 
 It was certainly a new sensation to Irene when, having parted 
 with Nathalie at the door of Mrs, Falconer's apartment, she 
 found herself, for the first time in her life, entering a drawing- 
 room alone, announced in imposing tones by an imposing-looking 
 servant. But there are instincts which supply the place of train- 
 ing. Of shyness or awkwardness there was not the least trace 
 in her bearing, and, as she entered with her proud carriage, her 
 high-bred air, the little group of people already assembled re- 
 garded her with admiration. Mrs. Falconer rose and went for- 
 ward, Erne put up his eye-glass, Mrs. Yance glanced at Stanhope 
 and lifted her brows. He smiled slightly as much at himself as 
 at the sensation Irene produced, for he was conscious of the 
 awakening of a new interest in this girl, over whose future fate 
 he was destined to exercise so much control. 
 
 " I almost began to fear that you would play truant," said Mrs. 
 Falconer, taking her hand. " And that would have been a very 
 great disappointment, for I have summoned our friend Mr. Stan- 
 hope to meet you ; and my cousin, fortunately for himself, dropped 
 in ; while here is my aunt, who is most anxious to know your 
 mother's daughter." 
 
 " You are very like your mother, my dear," said Mrs. Yance, 
 kindly. " And, if you could sae her as she remains in my mem- 
 ory, you would know that I pay you a great compliment."
 
 6i HEART OF STEEL 
 
 " I am sure of it, madame," answered Irene, with grateful 
 eyes. " Nobody could pay me a greater one." 
 
 "Madame Lescar's beauty is by no means a thing of the past," 
 said Stanhope. "I doubt, my dear Mrs. Vance, whether your 
 memory of her is lovelier than the present reality." 
 
 Irene looked at him with the same quick, grateful light in her 
 eyes. " It is true," she said. "I am certain that my mother has 
 never been more beautiful than she is now. But it is possible 
 that every one might not think so. She is thin, she is pale but 
 she looks like the Madonna Dolorosa, and, as the body grows more 
 shadowy, one sees the soul, which is even lovelier." 
 
 The pathos of her expression touched them all. Those who 
 knew the truth felt their sympathy almost painfully wrought 
 upon, while Erne, who knew nothing except that he had been 
 promised that ho should see a lovely girl and hear a charming 
 voice, was conscious of a surprise little short of amazement. His 
 practiced eye took in every point of her beauty, all the harmony 
 of her dress, just as his ear caught the soft music of her tones; 
 and he said to himself: "What does it mean? Is my cousin 
 playing a jest introducing a celebrity as a debutante f " 
 
 This was only his first thought. lie saw its folly when he was 
 presented to Irene, and recognized at once the exquisite freshness 
 of early youth, and that virginal innocence of glance which is only 
 to be seen where the life has been as absolutely sheltered from the 
 remotest knowledge of evil, as that of a foreign girl is. He flat- 
 tered himself greatly upon the delicacy and quickness of his per- 
 ceptions, and he had much of that insight into color, form, and 
 expression, which painters display in the highest degree. The 
 time had been when he had spoiled canvas by the yard, and fan- 
 cied himself possessed of the divine afflatus which mortals call 
 genius ; but as his culture advanced his belief in his own powers 
 waned, until now he had reached a point of fastidiousness which 
 made the satisfaction of his taste far beyond the scope of his abil- 
 ity. Had the vulgar necessity of bread-making pressed upon him, 
 he might have been forced to set this fastidiousness aside to 
 Avork despite it, as many a heart-sick artist is forced to do ; but 
 he chanced to be one of those favored children of Fortune in 
 whom, as George Eliot has remarked, " the unproductive labor
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 65 
 
 of questioning " (whether it is worth while to take part in tho 
 battle of the world) " is sustained by three or five per cent on 
 capital which somebody else has battled for." Erne, indeed, had 
 an indulgent and obliging father, who still battled for this capital, 
 and put much of it at the disposal of his son. 
 
 " My cousin tells me that I am to have the pleasure of hearing 
 you sing, mademoiselle," he said to Irene, "and that your voice 
 is wonderful." 
 
 " Mrs. Falconer ought to have remembered that people are 
 generally disappointed when their expectation has been excited," 
 she answered. "As for my voice, no doubt it is good, since my 
 teachers all agree in saying so ; but it will never compare with 
 my mother's." 
 
 She looked at Mrs. Vance, by whom she was sitting, as she 
 uttered the last words, which were addressed rather to her than 
 to Erne. But to the latter they brought a flash of revelation. He 
 could almost have cried, " Eureka I " He knew now why such a 
 distinct and unmistakable seal of originality was set upon this girl, 
 why she regarded him with eyes in which genius seemed to dwell 
 as by right divine. "Whatever his follies, it could at least be said 
 of him that he was not of the number of those who look in such 
 eyes and fail to know them. 
 
 "I have, then," he said, after an instant's pause, " the pleasure 
 of seeing Madame Lescar's daughter. Forgive my stupidity in not 
 recognizing the fact before. It is one of the most delightful mem- 
 ories of my life that I had once the honor to know your mother, 
 mademoiselle." 
 
 " To know my mother you? " said Irene, looking at him with 
 surprise and evident incredulity. 
 
 " Ten years ago, when she was in America," he said, "I heard 
 her sing; and though I was very young not more than fifteen 
 I was then, as now, passionately devoted to music, and I have re- 
 tained the recollection of her voice as perhaps the most exquisite 
 that I ever heard. But my enthusiasm had more than her voice 
 to feed upon," he went on, smih'ng. "My father was one of her 
 old friends, and one day he was good enough to take me with 
 him when he went to see her. I shall never forget that visit 
 her beauty, her grace, the sweetness of her look and tone when
 
 66 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 she gave me her hand and called my name. She seemed to ma 
 more than a queen, and I went from her presence wild with ado- 
 ration. I think I may truly say that Madame Lescar was my first 
 love." 
 
 " She has had many successors," said Mrs. Vance. 
 
 But with what a smile Irene rewarded his story! It flashed 
 upon him from every eloquent feature, reminding him of the 
 transformation of light and color that he once saw come over a 
 woman's face when he chanced to praise her lover. 
 
 " How happy it makes me to hear people say that they knew f 
 admired, or loved my mother ! " she said, with a glance that 
 thanked him while she spoke. " Tell me your name the name 
 she called you that I may tell it to her." 
 
 " Lionel," said Mrs. Falconer, suddenly supplying the name, 
 "you will take Mademoiselle Lescar in to dinner." 
 
 "I should like," said Erne, as he offered his arm, " to be per- 
 mitted to recall myself to Madame Lescar's recollection. I have 
 not known before of her presence in Paris. May I not hope that 
 she will receive me ? " 
 
 " If she were well enough, I have no doubt she would be glad 
 to do so," replied Irene, a shadow falling over her face. " But 
 she is ill, and since her arrival in Paris she has seen no visitors 
 but Mr. Stanhope and Mrs. Falconer." 
 
 " And my cousin did not tell me! how can I forgive her? I 
 am not even indebted to her for being here this evening for it 
 was merely chance that brought me. But Fortune sometimes fa- 
 vors one, and it has never favored me more signally than to-day." 
 
 The last words were uttered as they sat down to table, and 
 Mrs. Falconer, overhearing them, looked at the speaker with a 
 smile. 
 
 " You do not know yet how much it has favored you," she 
 said. " Wait until you have heard Mademoiselle Lescar sing." 
 
 " I hardly think I shall appreciate my good fortune more even 
 then," he replied, " although I hope to hear in her voice an echo 
 of strains that delighted me ten years ago." 
 
 " You have heard Madame Lescar, then ? " said Stanhope. 
 
 " As I have just been telling mademoiselle, Madame Lescar 
 was my first love."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 67 
 
 They all laughed, looking at the handsome young fellow, who 
 on his part looked reproachfully at Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " And you have seen her, known her for some time, my cousin, 
 and never mentioned the fact to mo ! " 
 
 " I never for an instant thought of you in connection with it," 
 said Mrs. Falconer, frankly. "Why should I? Ten years ago 
 you were in round-jackets." 
 
 "That sounds like a crushing fact," he said, "but one may 
 have a very tumultuous heart even beneath a round-jacket. Youth- 
 ful passions are considered only matter for laughter, yet for depth, 
 intensity, tragedy of feeling, I have never known a passion equal 
 to that which I felt for Madame Lescar." 
 
 " And you will never know one, whatever its depth, intensity, 
 or tragedy, for an object more fit to inspire passion," said Stan- 
 hope. " I have bowed at Madame Lescar's shrine myself, so I 
 know whereof I speak." 
 
 " How do you like to be the inheritor of such a renown, ma- 
 demoiselle ? " asked Mrs. Falconer, turning to Irdne. " Do you 
 not feel as if it laid upon you a weight of possible achievement in 
 the form of fascination ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," the girl answered. " So far from that, I should 
 never forgive any one who thought that I could compare with my 
 mother in any respect." 
 
 "You hear?" said Mrs. Falconer, looking at Erne with a 
 laughing glance. " So be warned." 
 
 She led the conversation then to other topics, and Irene soon 
 felt that sense of ease which ease inspires. However much re- 
 pressed and overshadowed youth may be, it is still youth in noth- 
 ing more than in its elasticity, its matchless power of snatching 
 enjoyment from the passing minute. The girl herself was sur- 
 prised by the manner in which her spirits rose, her tongue was 
 loosed, her ideas gained point and brightness. It was her first 
 experience of that wonderful friction, that sbarpener of even the 
 dullest wits, known as social life. But if one could conceive a 
 young fish brough up on land and suddenly placed in the element 
 for which Nature intended it, that would be a type of Irene, when 
 from her cloistered life, filled with sadness and darkened by the 
 bitter sense of wrong, she stepped within the threshold of a world
 
 68 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 which every fiber of her nature, every instinct of her intelligence, 
 fitted her to enjoy. 
 
 After the ladies left tho dining-room, Erne, who opened the 
 door for them, had hardly closed it and returned to his seat, when 
 he broke forth : 
 
 "What a girl! She is not a girl she is a poem incarnate ! 
 I have never seen any one like her ! But, then, that might nat- 
 urally be expected of Madame Lescar's and Prince Waldegrave's 
 daughter. She is wonderfully like her mother; but she has her 
 father's brow and eyes. I saw him at Homburg last summer, and 
 I assure you they are exact reproductions of his." 
 
 " Very likely," said Stanhope. " No one can deny Prince 
 Waldegrave's intellectual ability, and it is the brow and eyes that 
 make his daughter's face most striking so striking that one al- 
 most forgets its beauty." 
 
 "I don't think one forgets the beauty," said Erne. "One 
 only feels that the intellectual expression elevates its character, 
 giving it a more unique nobleness and charm. I have never had 
 any fancy for insipid beauty. I have always maintained that it is 
 not beauty in a true sense. How can it be ? The highest type of 
 beauty is at the same time the highest type of intellect. We seo 
 that in antique sculpture. I should like to model Mademoiselle 
 Lescar's head! It would be as fine as the Pompeiian Sappho." 
 
 " If you modeled it, no doubt it would," said Stanhope with 
 good-natured sarcasm. He was not surprised at Erne's enthusi- 
 asm, but neither was he altogether pleased by it. He had a vague 
 sense as if his right in Irene was in a manner threatened, and, 
 although he smiled to himself over this feeling, it could not be 
 ignored. He had accepted Madame Lescar's trust with reluctance ; 
 but there had begun to dawn upon him a conviction that after all 
 it might possess compensations ; that to stand in close relation to 
 such a girl, to study the development of her character, to direct 
 the unfolding of her intellect, would be interesting to a student of 
 human nature like himself. And now if Erne, with his ffistheti- 
 cism and his theories, his ready culture and his equally ready 
 words, should usurp a share of the influence that was rightfully 
 his own He smiled, but even in smiling he felt that such a 
 result would not bo altogether agreeable.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 69 
 
 They did not linger long behind the ladies, and on entering the 
 salon they found Mrs. Falconer and Irene turning over music- 
 scores, from which the former looked up to say: 
 
 " You have come just in time, for IrSne is about to sing. You 
 see," she added, aside to Stanhope, " we have advanced a step. 
 By her request, I have dropped ' mademoiselle.' " 
 
 Erne went up to Irene, who, standing by the grand piano, slim 
 and straight, in her soft drapery and with her crimson roses, made 
 a picture naturally pleasing to the eye of an artist, however em- 
 bryonic. 
 
 " Do you know," he said, "I am afraid to hear you sing? " 
 
 " Why ? " she asked, with some surprise. " Do you think you 
 will not like my voice ? " 
 
 " I am afraid I shall like it only too well," he answered. 
 " Music is my passion. "When I am under the influence of it, I 
 am literally like ' a reed shaken by the wind ' the wind of har- 
 mony. If you sing as you look, what will become of me? " 
 
 She smiled, but not as most girls listening to the language of 
 compliment for the. first time would have smiled and she did 
 not blush at all. 
 
 " What usually becomes of you under such, circumstances ? " 
 she asked, with playful mockery. "I fancy that you listen quietly, 
 you applaud ; if the singing is in a drawing-room, you pay a 
 few compliments; then you go away. That is what I think 
 you will do to-night. Now imagine yourself in a stall at the 
 opera ! " 
 
 That was not difficult to imagine, for it is seldom out of an 
 opera that a voice is heard like that which now rose and filled the 
 salon so pure, so clear, so highly trained. And what was it she 
 began to sing pouring, it seemed, her whole soul into the mel- 
 ody? 
 
 " Knowest thou the land where the pale citron grows, 
 And the gold orange through dark foliage glows ? 
 A soft wind flutters from the deep-blue sky, 
 The myrtle blooms, and towers the laurel high. 
 Know'st thou it well ? 
 
 Oh, there with thee ! 
 Oh, that I might, my own beloved one, flee ! "
 
 70 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 It was Mignon herself who was singing to them, with pathetic 
 remembrance, with eager yearning, with passionate tenderness. 
 They looked at each other, thrilled almost less hy the beauty of 
 the voice than by its wonderful expression. Stanhope was amazed. 
 He had expected that Madame Lescar's daughter would sing well, 
 but he had not imagined he should hear anything like this. No 
 drawing-room, no concert singer here, no organ to warble arias 
 and ballads ; but a voice to ring above the heads of multitudes 
 with its silvery sweetness a power to sway the hearts of thou- 
 sands from the lyric stage ! 
 
 "And this is what your mother has been doing down in 
 Milan ! " he said, when the song ended. " She has been training 
 such a voice, and not even allowing an old friend like myself to 
 hear it. Well, she is fitly punished or rewarded. You must 
 bear to hear that your voice is finer than hers. It has the same 
 exquisite timbre, but with greater range, fullness, and expression." 
 
 " Monsieur Stanhope ! " cried Irene, almost indignantly. " Do 
 you think to please me by saying such a thing as that ? My voice 
 does not, can not, compare with my mother's ! It wounds me 
 that you should say so. Monsieur Erne, you remember her you 
 do not think this 1 " 
 
 She turned to Erne with an appeal so manifestly earnest that 
 he would gladly have responded to it as she desired if truth had 
 not been too mighty for him. As it was, he could only say : 
 
 " You have left me no power to recall any other voice, made- 
 moiselle. One could forget anything in listening to yours." 
 
 He spoke with sincerity as manifest as her own ; but he did 
 not please her. She swept him with a glance from under her long 
 lashes, as she said, " You see you have found what I thought you 
 would a compliment." And then she turned away. 
 
 "It is really wonderful, is it not? " said Mrs. Falconer, in alow 
 tone to Stanhope. " You can imagine my surprise, when, with- 
 out the least preparation, without even having been told that the 
 girl could sing at all, I went in this morning and heard that voice. 
 I thought that I must have wandered into the apartment of a 
 prima donna ; but, in truth, there are not many prima donnas who 
 possess such an organ." 
 
 "It is startling," he answered. "I hardly feel that I have
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 71 
 
 recovered under the shock of surprise, for there is more than a 
 voice here ; there is the power of the dramatic artist, that power 
 which makes us feel and comprehend things indefinable in words. 
 Who have heen her masters, do you know ? " 
 
 "Oh, C , the great maestro, in Milan, he who usually only 
 
 trains artists, and since she has been in Paris she has sung for 
 Viardot. Her simplicity is remarkable. If she knows the value 
 of her voice, she certainly seems to care very little for it ; and 
 she is firmly persuaded that it can not compare with her mother's." 
 
 "Bah ! " said Stanhope, in a tone which it was well Irdne did 
 not overhear. " The mother's voice was lovely, as charming a 
 drawing-room or even concert-room organ as I ever heard; but 
 she had no more dramatic fire than a canary-bird, and her voice 
 was not powerful enough for any large space ; whereas, this girl 
 could fill La Scala." 
 
 "Let us hope that she will never desire to do so ! " said Mrs. 
 Falconer, fervently ; and, as their eyes met, it was evident that 
 the same fear was in the minds of both. 
 
 There was much more music, for Irene sang as often and as 
 long as they desired. They were all, with the exception of Mrs. 
 Vance, who at length began to yawn behind her fan, musical 
 enthusiasts, and, after the first astonishment wore off, the evening 
 was full of delight. Erne felt like one who has been intoxicated 
 by sweet sounds when he found himself at last in the cool night air 
 on the brilliant streets. But above all other strains, it was an 
 echo of the South, of the far-blue seas and the wonderful blue 
 skies, of the poetry and enchantment of Italy, which lingered 
 with him in the haunting melody of Mignon's song. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BEFOEE Mrs. Falconer parted with Irne, the day for their 
 visit to Versailles was set, with the concurrence of Stanhope and 
 Erne. 
 
 " I hope that nothing will occur to prevent our going," she 
 said later to her aunt, " for I have quite set my heart on giving 
 that poor child a little pleasure."
 
 72 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Do you think she will enjoy a day at Versailles? " asked Mrs. 
 Vance, who had herself found such a day very fatiguing, and who, 
 like most good Americans, restricted her sight-seeing in Paris to 
 the shops, especially to the Bon Marche, where she reveled in a 
 wild dissipation of shopping, returning home with a carriage filled 
 with bundles "Such wonderful bargains, my dear!" most of 
 which were taken back and exchanged next day, according to the 
 obliging custom of the Bon Marchd, for other bargains quite as 
 wonderful. 
 
 " I am sure she will," replied Mrs. Falconer. " I can not 
 imagine anything that she would enjoy more. Then there is 
 youth, there is gayety in her, and I want to see them brought out." 
 
 " Are you not a little afraid about Lionel ? " asked Mrs. Vance, 
 after a moment's pause. " Suppose he should fall in love? " 
 
 "Suppose! " echoed Mrs. Falconer, with a laugh. "It is al- 
 ready an accomplished fact. Violet Dysart's star has set, which is 
 something to be grateful for, since she might have married him 
 at last, and fancy what a wife a girl would make who has spent 
 her youth running over Europe in the attempt to marry a man of 
 rank! Lionel's infatuation for her is at an end; and if Irene 
 should fancy him, think what a happy solving of all difficulties it 
 would be ! " 
 
 " Sydney! " said Mrs. Vance, in amazement and some dismay, 
 "you don't mean that you are going to try match-making?" 
 
 u Why not?" asked Mrs. Falconer, undismayed. "The idea 
 never occurred to me until I sa\v at dinner that Lionel was 
 epris ; but now it arranges itself beautifully in my mind. Mr. 
 Erne could not object, for he have I not heard it told in the 
 chronicles of the past? was one of Madame Lescar's adorers in 
 the days of her brilliant youth. Madame Lescar, I am sure, would 
 not object ; for, although Prince Waldegrave's acknowledged 
 daughter would necessarily look far higher, Prince Waldegrave's 
 unacknowledged daughter has only her mother's rank. Then, 
 think of the ease to her mind, and the relief to poor Mr. Stanhope ! 
 Oh, it grows upon me ! " 
 
 " Sydney, I am astonished at you ! " said Mrs. Vance. " Match- 
 making is a very dangerous responsibility ! If they should not 
 suit each other "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 73 
 
 " My dear aunt," said Sydney, " if we waited to be sure that 
 people suit each other, how many marriages would ever take 
 place? Besides, why should they not suit each other? I grant 
 you that Irene is not an ordinary person, but neither is Lionel." 
 
 " Still it seems to me that it would be a great risk, and I 
 I really do not think that, if I were you, I would attempt it," said 
 Mrs. Vance, who, like many people, felt more strongly than she 
 could express herself. 
 
 "I shall be quite ready to assume the risk," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, cheerfully, "if it can only be brought about. How it 
 would cut the Gordian knot of difficulty ! It is true it is a very 
 commonplace solution; but what will you? The commonplace 
 is a thing to which we must all, at some period of oar lives, 
 submit." 
 
 She did not add that one submits to the commonplace, as well 
 as to most other evils, more philosophically for one's friends than 
 for one's self; but she was quite in earnest in thinking that here 
 might be an unexpected avenue of escape from all the difficulties 
 foreseen by Madame Lescar and Stanhope. It is true that the 
 earnest words of the former with regard to the improbability that 
 Irene could ever find happiness in marriage, were still ringing in 
 her ears ; but she said to herself that there was a chance at least 
 that the mother might be mistaken, and that in any event the 
 lesser of two dangers should be chosen. " For, what lies before 
 the girl if she does not marry? " she thought. " She might make 
 for herself a career in art with that voice it is entirely possible 
 for her to become a great singer but what dangers, what insults, 
 would surround her, while as Lionel's wife she would be sure of 
 being sheltered from everything except, perhaps, ennui, from 
 which no one, be he lover, friend, or husband, can secure one 1 " 
 
 With this conclusion, she laid her head down on its pillow ; 
 but, naturally enough, her last waking thought pursued her into 
 that land of shadows which we call dreams. "Was it Mignon's 
 song which bore her to Italy? At least, there could be no doubt 
 of the association which led her to find herself in the Church of 
 St. Cecilia in Kome. It was very vivid the lifting the heavy 
 leathern curtain at the door, the cold chill of the atmosphere of 
 the church after the sunny warmth of the outer air, the perception 
 4
 
 74: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 as she advanced that two figures stood before the altar one in 
 the white robes and flowing veil of a bride ; then the recognition, 
 when she drew near, that they were Irene and Erne. The mar- 
 riage ceremony did not take place what ceremony ever does in a 
 dream ? but the meaning of the scene was plain, and the dreamer 
 smiled as she woke. 
 
 She smiled again when, on entering Madame Lescar's salon that 
 afternoon, to ask if the latter would not like a drive, she found 
 Erne installed with all the air of a visitor who has made good 
 his right of entrance. He laughed, and colored a little when 
 her glance fell on him. 
 
 " You see," he said, " that I have been very adventurous ; I 
 have thrown myself, alone and unsupported, on Madame Lescar's 
 kindness." 
 
 " It was something that your father's son need not have hesi- 
 tated to do," said Madame Lescar, with her smile of cordial sweet- 
 ness. " I suppose that I value my old ties the more because I am 
 so wholly separated from them," she added, looking at Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. 
 
 " I hope their value does not decrease when you are brought 
 into contact with them," said Erne, " for I do not wish to shine 
 only in the reflected light of my father. I aspire to rank as an 
 old friend myself." 
 
 " You could not possibly rank as a very old one," replied Ma- 
 dame Lescar, " and I assure you that the reflected luster of your 
 father might satisfy you. I have never had a better friend, nor 
 one whom I remember more kindly." 
 
 " No dimness has fallen upon his memory of you," said Erne ; 
 " so you may imagine what pleasure it will give him to hear from 
 you to hear that he is remembered by you ! And I shall tell 
 him what a representative you have," he added, looking at IrSne. 
 
 She met his glance, and, leaning forward a little, said, in a low 
 tone, " Be certain you do not tell him what you told me last night 
 about my voice, I mean." 
 
 " Your will is my law," answered the young man, smiling. 
 " I shal] be happy to tell him whatever you say." 
 
 " I do not bid you say anything," she replied, drawing back. 
 " I only tell you what not to say."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 75 
 
 " Let me remind you that it was Mr. Stanhope, not myself, 
 who made the obnoxious speech last night," he said ; " but I pledge 
 myself to profound secrecy and strict obedience on the subject. 
 Yet I should like to put a price on my virtue." Then, quickly, 
 " Will you not sing for me? " 
 
 She turned to her mother with the simplicity which made 
 such a contrast to the occasional imperiousness of her manner. 
 " Mamma," she said, "Mr. Erne asks me to sing for him. Shall 
 I?" 
 
 " "Why not, if you feel like singing ? " Madame Lescar ans\vered. 
 
 " I always feel like it," the girl replied. 
 
 She rose as she spoke, and, followed by Erne, crossed the room 
 to the piano. Mrs. Falconer watched the graceful figure, struck 
 again, as she had been before, by the entire absence of anything 
 like self -consciousness in her manner. 
 
 "I can not tell you how charmingly she acquitted herself 
 last night," she said, turning to the mother. "And such a voice! 
 "We were all delighted, and Mr. Stanhope, I am sure, will have 
 much to say to you about never having let him know how fine 
 it is." 
 
 "It has developed wonderfully within the last year," Madame 
 Lescar replied, " and I have scarcely seen Mr. Stanhope at all dur- 
 ing that time. Yes, it is very fine. The musical connoisseurs in 
 
 Milan think very highly of it, and Signor C declaims to me 
 
 upon the crime of robbing the world of a great singer by not pre- 
 paring her for the lyric stage." 
 
 "And have you thought of listening to him?" Mrs. Falconer 
 asked, glad of an opportunity to put the question. 
 
 " No, I have not thought of it at all. I feared for a time that 
 Irene herself might do so; but I have no fear of the kind now. 
 Her pride, which is as strong as her ambition, would make her 
 shrink from such a career. Though she is reticent on any 
 subject which she believes would pain me, I can tell from slight 
 indications what she feels; and I am sure that nothing stings 
 her more deeply than the thought of my ever having sung in 
 public." 
 
 " You think, then, that the glamour which is thrown around 
 the career of a great singer would have no fascination for her ? "
 
 76 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "None, I believe. She realizes too keenly how different her 
 position in the world ought to be." 
 
 They were silent then, for Irene began to sing, her pure, de- 
 lightful voice rising again in Mignon's song. This was by Erne's 
 request. " It haunted me all night," he said ; " it made me dream 
 of Italy, it has followed me like a refrain all day. Pray break the 
 spell, or deepen it, by letting me hear it again." 
 
 He saw by her smile that he had pleased her. " If you love 
 Italy as well as I do," she said, " you would rather have the spell 
 deepened than broken. It is the song I always sing when I am 
 most homesick." 
 
 "For Italy?" 
 
 " Of course for Italy. I have never had any other home." 
 
 "I can not love it like that," he said. "I have. had another 
 home though I can not, by any stretch of fancy, conceive myself 
 homesick for it! but Italy is to me the Mecca of the mind and 
 the imagination. Could it be otherwise when I aspire to be a 
 painter?" 
 
 " Do you ? " she said, with a look of interest. " Then, you 
 must love Italy, and I will sing the song for you." 
 
 She sang it, if possible, even better than she had the night 
 before, and Mrs. Falconer, leaning back in her chair, listened 
 with the suspicion of a smile about her lips. 
 
 " Now," she said, when it was over, " I know you are ready 
 to petition for another and yet another and Irene would proba- 
 bly be good-natured enough to sing them for you; but I must 
 interfere. There is a time for everything, and this is the time for 
 the Bois. I want to take these ladies out into the sunshine. You 
 will come, will you not? " she said, turning to Madame Lescar. 
 
 " Yes, I feel to-day as if I should like to go," that lady an- 
 swered. 
 
 Irene rose from the music-stool and turned her face radiant 
 with pleasure. 
 
 "Ah! " she cried, "it is long since I have heard mamma say 
 she would like anything. Madame, how kind you are ! "We will 
 be ready in a moment." 
 
 She drew her mother quickly from the room as if she feared 
 some possible change of mind leaving Mrs. Falconer and Erne
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 77 
 
 alone. The latter crossed over from the piano, where he had 
 been left stranded, and paused before his cousin. 
 
 "No doubt that was well done," he said, "but naturally I 
 don't feel very grateful to yon." 
 
 "I suppose not," she answered. "I can not say that I ex- 
 pected your gratitude ; but I think it more important for Madame 
 Lescar to have the benefit of the sunny warmth of the afternoon, 
 than for you to hear Irene sing. Eemember that there will 
 probably be many occasions in the future when you can have 
 that pleasure." 
 
 " I hope so," he said, " for what a voice it is! " 
 
 "And what an owner for a voice! " 
 
 "Yes. She is so original that one hesitates to use ordinary 
 words with regard to her." 
 
 " She is very beautiful if that is not too ordinary a word to 
 be applied to her." 
 
 "I think it is. Other women are beautiful at least, some 
 other women are." 
 
 " Violet Dysart, for example ? " 
 
 She looked at him mischievously, and he looked at her and 
 smiled. 
 
 " Beyond doubt," he answered. " Miss Dysart is beautiful in 
 her style." 
 
 "And how does that style compare with Irene's? " 
 
 "You can not compare them. There is a stamp of noble 
 simplicity upon Mademoiselle Lescar's beauty. And when she 
 looks at one with those proud, clear eyes, do you know what one 
 sees in them ? It is genius." 
 
 "I hope not," said Mrs. Falconer. "Fate has been hard 
 enough upon her without that misfortune." 
 
 " Why should it be a misfortune? " 
 
 "What else has it ever been? Give me an instance of a 
 woman or man, either who possessed it and was happy? I 
 hope you are, as usual, artistically extravagant; and I beg you 
 not to invest a charming girl with such fancies." 
 
 " If I am artistically extravagant, remember that artists have 
 eyes that look below the surface." 
 
 "And sometimes see what does not exist. I am willing to
 
 V8 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 agree with you that Irdne is beautiful and original ; but I will not 
 have her converted into a ' violet-crowned Sappho ' and doomed 
 to poetical misery." 
 
 "The misery is your own imagination," said he; "but it is 
 curious that you should speak of Sappho. I told Mr. Stanhope 
 last night that she reminded me of the bust of the Pompeiian 
 Sappho." 
 
 "You see I know you so well. I can predict your line of 
 probable comparison. She is certainly a very striking girl, but 
 I hope not so remarkable as you fancy." 
 
 "I could hardly fancy her more remarkable than she is," he 
 answered. 
 
 The conversation was ended here by the entrance of Madame 
 Lescar and Irene, and then it appeared that there was an un- 
 expected pleasure in store for the young man. 
 
 After he had gone out with the ladies and put them into the 
 carriage, he was in the act of closing the door when Mrs. Falconer 
 pointed to the fourth, unoccupied seat. 
 
 "Will you take it?" she said. "We are in rather alarming 
 preponderance ; but we shall not make the tour du Lac, so you 
 may not mind." 
 
 " Mind ! I shall only be too happy," he said, eagerly, as he 
 stepped in. Irene made room for him with a smile, and they 
 drove off in the great afternoon tide of equipages toward the 
 Bois. 
 
 On entering the gates, however, they turned, as Mrs. Falconer 
 had said, and avoiding the crowded drive along the lake, where 
 faces are scanned and toilets displayed, followed some of the 
 beautiful winding roads toward the Pr6 Catelan. It was evident 
 that Madame Lescar enjoyed the luxurious motion, the exhilarat- 
 ing air and soft sunshine, and, seeing this, Irene gave herself up 
 to enjoyment also. The exquisite face under its picturesque dark- 
 plumed hat was a revelation of loveliness to Erne, and he had no 
 more idea of resisting the enchanting influences brought to bear 
 upon him than if he had been a child of nature instead of a prod- 
 uct of the latest philosophy of culture. "Falling in love," says 
 
 some one, " is as delightful as falling out again is disagreeable" 
 
 and, to a man trained to appreciate every delicate ebb and flow of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 79 
 
 feeling, there is certainly a charm in the first dawn of sentiment, 
 the play of fancy, the subtile glow of interest, that may lead to 
 passion. It is the prelude of a drama that may prove a tragedy 
 but in the sweetness of its fairy overture who thinks of this ? 
 
 Certainly not Erne, with whom the drama had never advanced 
 beyond the first act. He had, so far, played with feeling much 
 as he had done with art ; and though he had a consciousness at 
 the present time that he was stirred in some newer, perhaps 
 deeper manner, than ever before, the emotion was altogether one 
 of pleasure as delicate and fine in its nature as the object which 
 inspired it. It was a golden hour not only to the young syba- 
 rite, but also to his companions to Madame Lescar, in Mrs. Fal- 
 coner's kindness to her daughter, as well as in the air and sun- 
 shine ; to Irene, in her mother's brightness, and after that in. the 
 varying beauty of the great pleasure-ground and in the exchange 
 of quick thought and repartee with a companion whose eyes 
 would have spoken admiration to the dullest capacity ; while Mrs. 
 Falconer felt the most benevolent satisfaction, as she thought, 
 " Surely here is the best solution for the difficulty." 
 
 But golden hours always end speedily; and this one was no 
 exception to the rule. The champing horses were again drawn 
 up before the gate on the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, and, when 
 Madame Lescar and Irene parted with their companions, Erne's 
 last words were : 
 
 " I shall have the happiness of seeing you soon again, made- 
 moiselle, for you know Thursday is the day we go to Versailles." 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 ON Thursday Fortune favored them with fine weather, and at 
 an early hour of the morning the two ladies drove up to the Gare 
 St. Lazare, where Stanhope and Erne awaited them. Both men 
 were struck by the radiance that animated Irene and spoke in 
 her every air and movement. She looked like a young princess 
 gazing out on the world with fearless, beautiful eyes that to-day 
 had in them something of a child's joyousness. 
 
 "Mamma was so well when I bade her good-by," she said,
 
 80 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 as she gave her hand to Stanhope. " She told me to enjoy every- 
 thing and I think I shall. I have never before had a whole 
 day of pleasure." 
 
 " A whole day of pleasure is a thing that is not often granted 
 to any of us," said Stanhope, with his pleasant, whimsical smile. 
 " Something generally interferes, if it is only the morning mail. 
 The sole chance to obtain it is to run away as we are doing 
 now." 
 
 "At least, we are all in spirits to enjoy it," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 " Have you taken the tickets, Lionel ? The doors are opening 
 attonsf" 
 
 A minute later they were rolling out of Paris, secure from any 
 invasion on the privacy of their first-class carriage. And their 
 spirits during the short journey justified Mrs. Falconer's opinion. 
 She herself was one of the fortunate people whom their friends 
 call " equable," but those who knew her intimately knew that 
 she had accessions of brightness, and this was plainly one of her 
 brightest days. In truth, she felt as light-hearted as possible, for 
 she was not only doing a kind action in which she always de- 
 lighted to a degree that, as she often declared, robbed her of 
 merit but sbe was with people who were thoroughly agreeable 
 to her. The last was one of her prime requisites. " I flatter myself 
 that I have mastered the art of being bored with as amiable de- 
 meanor as any woman in Christendom," she often said; "but, 
 for all that, I don't like it while I adore good companionship." 
 That she had what she wanted to-day was obvious, and her be- 
 coming costume a triumph of dress-making and millinery art 
 proved that she had thought her companions worth looking her 
 best for. 
 
 One of them, at least, appreciated this. Stanhope's senti- 
 ments with regard to women were not such as the sex in general 
 would cordially have approved ; but no man found more pleasure 
 in association with individuals of that sex, and it has already been 
 said that Mrs. Falconer always put him at his best. There was 
 consequently very good reason for his spirits, albeit their flow 
 was of the quietest description; while Erne just then asked 
 nothing better than the smile of the lovely face before him, 
 or the glance of the eyes that seemed to bring the sunshine
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 81 
 
 with them whenever they turned from the wide, light-flooded 
 landscape. 
 
 The beautiful day had not a cloud upon it when they reached 
 Versailles, and, stepping into an open carriage, were driven di- 
 rectly to tLe palace up the broad avenue which leads to the 
 Place d'Armes, into the grand court lined with colossal statues of 
 the great men of France, with the proud equestrian figure of 
 Louis Quatorze keeping guard over the palace and the city that 
 rose like magic at the bidding of his imperious will. When they 
 alighted and looked at the immense pile which overshadowed 
 them, and read the inscription dedicating it, "A toutes lea gloires 
 de la France," it was impossible not to think of the glories be- 
 longing to that ancien regime, which, with all its faults, lifted the 
 fair name of France so high, bore it with such grace in a hun- 
 dred courts, and blazoned it with deeds of daring on a thousand 
 battle-fields. 
 
 But they are silent and empty now the golden chambers of 
 that wonderful palace though it is silence eloquent of a myriad 
 brilliant memories. For the world had never seen before, and 
 probably will never see again, such magnificence, united with 
 such grace of wit, such elegance of manners, as that which reigned 
 here, from the palmy days of the Grand Monarque to the day 
 when the hoarse clamor of revolution was heard within these 
 gilded walls. Stanhope, to whom French memoirs had always 
 been peculiarly interesting, and who was therefore well versed 
 in the annals of Versailles, found himself drawing npon this store 
 of knowledge to a degree which astonished him, for he generally 
 disliked the attitude of instructor. But Irene's enthusiasm was 
 too contagious to be resisted ; and her imagination seized so read- 
 ily upon outlines, and colored them with life, that it seemed as if 
 the stirring, picturesque tide of splendor and intrigue rolled back, 
 courtiers once more thronged the (Eil de Boeuf, famous beauties 
 filled the salons, the voice of Louis XIV seemed still echoing in 
 the Cabinet du Roi, the superb salons and Grande Galerie des 
 Glaces blazed with lights and a multitude of richly clad forms, as 
 the pageant of vanished courts swept through them by the aid of 
 a girl's vivid fancy. 
 
 "And they have all passed away," she said, standing slender
 
 82 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 and straight in the sunlight which fell in a stream through one 
 of the great windows on gilded ceiling: and polished floor, " and 
 there is nothing to tell of them but history. Surely history is a 
 wonderful thing." 
 
 "Kather a dull thing to most people," said Erne, "but you 
 seem to make the dry bones live." Then, as she looked at him, 
 he added, "You put a soul into them the soul of poetry." 
 
 " Oh, no," she said, quickly, " pray do not think so ! It is 
 only that what is real what has been thrills me more than any 
 imaginary creation. Why should we care so much for what some 
 great men have written about mere abstractions, and so little for 
 people whose pulses have beat, whose hearts have bled, like our 
 own? " 
 
 " We care for them when a great master of poetic art a 
 Shakespeare, a Schiller, a Walter Scott brings them before us 
 vividly, brushes away the dust of the past and lets us hear the 
 pulses beat." 
 
 She regarded him with something like surprise. " But do you 
 need such an interpreter ? " she asked. " I think the best that can 
 be said is poor compared to what one can fancy for one's self. The 
 power of expression is so limited ; there are so many inexpres- 
 sible things. One feels, one understands all the play of human 
 life that has taken place here but who could put it all in words? " 
 
 "I am afraid my imagination is deficient," said the young 
 man, smiling. "I need to have it stimulated. I need an inter- 
 preter and you are jiist the interpreter I need." 
 
 "Mr. Stanhope is a much better one," she said. "He can tell 
 you what Saint- Simon and M. de Luynes and the Due de Eiche- 
 lieu have left on record of that brilliant life." 
 
 Stanhope, who overheard her, smiled. "You are mistaken," 
 he said ; " I am not the interpreter Lionel wants. And, to do him 
 justice, he is right. I can only give him facts, which are within 
 his reach as well as mine you give him fancies." 
 
 " But fancies have no value," said she, blushing a little. 
 
 "Have they not? Put them in a scale against facts, and facts 
 have no chance at all; it is like the old saying about the ballads 
 and the laws. Moreover, they have a value of their own they 
 are to facts what spirit is to matter."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 83 
 
 So talking, they wandered on through the magnificent rooms 
 where a great monarchy danced and feasted to its end, paused 
 before numbers of historical portraits, admired many a fair face, 
 criticised many a great one, tried to picture the gorgeous theatre 
 with its courtly throngs, and presently found themselves within 
 the richly decorated walls of the chapel. 
 
 " Do not let fancy run away with you here," whispered Stan- 
 hope to Irene. " This is not where Bossuet and Massillon thun- 
 dered the great truths of death and eternity into the ears of a 
 startled court. That was in the older chapel. But it may be 
 worth remembering that before this altar Louis XVI and Marie 
 Antoinette joined their hands in marriage." 
 
 From the chapel they went out into the park, where the golden 
 day was holding high carnival ; where the great basins of water 
 were flashing back the sunlight ; where the broad terrace, in its 
 space and majesty, seemed awaiting the splendid tide of life and 
 movement that might yet pour out upon it from the empty palace ; 
 where the multitudinous statues stood in serene, smiling grace, 
 through all changes of seasons and of men ; where the long, straight 
 alleys, with their perfect arch of shade, stretched away in appar- 
 ently endless perspective, and where the tapis vert was as much 
 like emerald velvet as in the days when Louise de la Valliere and 
 her gay companions played blind-man's-buff upon it. But these 
 stately pleasure-grounds are overwhelming in their immensity, 
 and tired nature presently demanded rest. Then Stanhope carried 
 them to an hotel, where, it appeared, he had already ordered 
 dejeuner to be in readiness. 
 
 Such interludes are not the least pleasant parts of days like this. 
 Human nature grows more genial when refreshed by delicate 
 dishes and inspired by good wine ; and they talked and lingered 
 until Erne suggested that time was slipping away. " We have 
 the Trianons yet to see," he added. 
 
 "Suppose we omit the Grand Trianon," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 " There is so much in knowing what not to see, and I never 
 thought there was much of interest there. We will go to the 
 Petit Trianon, which is full of the association of Marie Antoi- 
 nette, and where one imagines her, not as the fated queen, 
 but as the gay young dauphiness. You must not think of
 
 84 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 her sorrows but of her joyousness there," she added, looking 
 at Irene. 
 
 "But the joyousness seems to deepen the gloom of the sor- 
 row," said the girl. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was as Mrs. Falconer decreed. The Grand 
 Trianon was omitted, and they went to the smaller chateau, filled 
 with memories of the beautiful, light-hearted princess, whose 
 tragical fate stands out more luridly against the gay frivolity of 
 her youth. The afternoon was at its full tide of brightness when 
 they entered the grounds, where, after the formal splendor of the 
 great park of Versailles, the eye found pleasant refreshment in 
 the graceful grouping of trees and shrubs ; in the forest glades, full 
 of tempered light and soft shadow ; and in the winding paths 
 leading into the still heart of woodland greenness, by the side of 
 the gleaming crystal stream. 
 
 " Is it not charming? " said Mrs. Falconer to Stanhope, as they 
 left the chateau together. " And those," she added, looking at 
 Irene and Erne, who were walking in advance, "make a charm- 
 ing picture ! The scene is an idyllic background for them." 
 
 " Very effective ! " said Stanhope. Then he regarded her 
 with a half-satirical smile, which she knew well. " When do you 
 mean the idyl to take place ? " he inquired. 
 
 She could not help flushing like one detected in guilt. " Why 
 do you assume that I mean it to take place at all ? " she asked. 
 " Am I such a transparent schemer as that? " 
 
 " You are a very transparent schemer to me," he answered. 
 " I do not think your eyes have fallen upon either of those young 
 people to-day, that I have not read your wishes and intentions in 
 them. Perhaps it is as well that, while your romance is still in 
 embryo, I should give you warning that the part for which you 
 may cast me is that of the hard-hearted guardian." 
 
 "Are you in earnest?" she demanded, looking up at him as 
 he looked cool and smiling down upon her. "Do you really 
 mean that that you should object to such an arrangement? " 
 
 "I mean exactly that," he replied. "And before I tell you 
 why I should object, you must let me say how much I am sur- 
 prised to find you developing into a match-maker." 
 
 " That is the term with which Aunt Marion tried to crush
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 85 
 
 me," she said. " But I am not to be crushed by it. A match- 
 maker and why should not one be a match-maker, if the match 
 to be made is for the interest of all parties concerned ? My opinion 
 of marriage as a state of life is not very high ; but it seems to me 
 that a girl in the position of Irene is decidedly one of the people 
 for whom it is necessary." 
 
 " You think, then, that position is to be considered rather than 
 character? " 
 
 " No that is, not exactly. You must acknowledge, how- 
 ever, that matrimony was instituted for people of all charac- 
 ters." 
 
 " I acknowledge nothing of the kind. It is an absurdity, 
 which you would never advance in a cooler moment. I grant 
 you that it was instituted, and is essential, for the majority of 
 the human race ; but there is a considerable minority who are 
 manifestly unfitted for the state. And I am inclined to believe 
 that Irene belongs to this minority." 
 
 "Her mother thinks so," said Mrs. Falconer; "but you will 
 allow that, in such a matter, no person has a right to judge for 
 another." 
 
 " Undoubtedly ; and Madame Lescar would, I am sure, be the 
 last to judge in a peremptory manner ; but forgive me if I say 
 that I think her decided opinion should at least prevent your 
 forming any matrimonial scheme for her daughter." 
 
 "I am rebuked! " said Mrs. Falconer. "How foolish I was 
 to betray my scheme to you! " she added, after a moment, while 
 her lips began to curve into a smile. " Now I am afraid that 
 you will not trust me, nor listen reasonably to a proposal I wish 
 to make." 
 
 " I am a very unreasonable person, certainly," he answered ; 
 " and, with regard to my trust in you, I confess that it is shaken. 
 Nevertheless, I promise to listen with due attention to any pro- 
 posal you wish to make ; provided, of course, that is not a pro- 
 posal of marriage on behalf of Mr. Erne." 
 
 " Oh, matters have not progressed nearly so far as that," she 
 said. " It was only my mind that dipped into futurity. I have 
 no idea that Lionel's has done so. And I will promise to keep 
 mine in order hereafter, if you will tell Madame Lescar that, if
 
 86 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 she consents and desires it, I will take charge of her daughter 
 when she needs a home." 
 
 There was a pause. Irene turned her head and looked hack 
 at them, as she disappeared with Erne around a turn of the path, 
 hefore Stanhope spoke. At last he said, gravely : 
 
 " This is like you it is as generous as it is kind ; hut, since I 
 am responsible for it, I must relieve my conscience by pointing 
 out that you may be bringing a good deal of trouble upon your- 
 self by yielding to an impulse which I know to be altogether char- 
 itable. Consider that this girl, however interesting, is made of 
 dangerous material." 
 
 " I believe you regard her as possessing a dynamic quality," 
 she said, laughing. "But I am not in the least afraid of an ex- 
 plosion, and I am interested in her more interested than I can 
 tell you. She is so beautiful, so richly endowed, and she will 
 soon be so pathetically alone ! If I can do anything for her, should 
 I think of a little trouble, more or less ? All care for others 
 means trouble; but for that reason shall we harden our hearts in 
 selfish isolation?" 
 
 He smiled at the pleading tone, at the fair face turned toward 
 him instinct with generous feeling. 
 
 "Listening to you, one would fancy that you were asking, 
 rather than proposing to bestow, a favor," he said. " But, if you 
 forget yourself, I must think for you, and I fear that you may 
 be carried by impulse into something that yon would possibly 
 regret." 
 
 " It is not merely impulse," she said. " I am more selfish than 
 you think in the matter. I have long wanted a companion ; not 
 a mere dame de compagnie, but a sympathetic friend ; one who 
 could share my pursuits, my studies, my social life. It seems to 
 me that everything I have dreamed of I find in IrSne, with the 
 addition of elements of romance of which I never dreamed." 
 
 "It is the elements of romance which I dread," he answered. 
 41 For Madame Lescar's sake, I am willing to undertake whatever 
 is inyolved in such a charge ; but, although the arrangement you 
 propose would relieve me immensely, I can not feel satisfied that 
 it'should be made." 
 
 "But it will be made," she said. "I tell you that I am re-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 87 
 
 solved. That wonderful voice decided me. Think of having such 
 a voice under one's roof all the time! " 
 
 "Think of trying to play hypocrite to anybody who knows 
 you as well as I do! " said Stanhope. "Do you imagine I will 
 believe that you want the girl because she can give you pleasure ? 
 If the truth were told, I have no doubt your resolution was taken 
 before you knew that she had a voice." 
 
 " Not my resolution exactly," she replied. " I have been want- 
 ing to say that I would do this from the first ; but I thought I 
 would be prudent enough to satisfy even you. I would wait I 
 would see I would judge ! And now that I have waited, that I 
 have seen, that I have judged ; now that, after calm deliberation, 
 I have taken my resolution, you try to dissuade me, to disappoint 
 me ! Mr. Stanhope, you are not really so unkind." 
 
 Perhaps it was the voice, which took again a pleading tone 
 difficult to resist, or perhaps it was the thought of Madame Lescar 
 and her sad anxiety for her daughter's future, which made Stan- 
 hope, after a moment, answer: 
 
 " No. You must follow the dictates of your heart ; and, if it 
 costs you something well, it is not immediately that we look for 
 the reward of any good action. One reward you will certainly 
 have that of your own conscience. And now " he smiled 
 " that I have eased my conscience by a protest, I must honestly 
 say that your decision is an infinite relief to me. It ends the 
 perplexity which has troubled both Madame Lescar and my- 
 self, and gives Irene all that we could ask or desire of protec- 
 tion." 
 
 " Your relief does not equal my pleasure," she said, frankly. 
 "I feel what a good thing it is to be rich and free to be ac- 
 countable to nobody for my actions. I need not even ask any 
 one's opinion : I can do exactly and entirely as I like." 
 
 The smile was still on his lips as he looked at her. She had 
 thrown back her head a little, her color was raised, her eyes 
 bright she seemed to be exulting in her freedom, yet it was 
 a delicate, tempered exultation which became her graceful beauty. 
 Stanhope remembered it afterward the picture she made, the 
 sun striking on the green foliage all around them, with here and 
 there a russet tint, the still depths of the park stretching away
 
 88 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 like a fairy world of light and shade, the stream shining in its 
 curves, the soft blue sky overhead. 
 
 "I think," he said, "that you do what you like because you 
 are made of the stuff to do it. The freedom that is a delight to 
 you would be a burden to a weaker woman. One can not blame 
 vines for requiring a prop, instead of standing like a palm, up- 
 right, slender and straight. But I like palms." 
 
 While Irene's fate, in a partial sense, was being thus decided 
 behind her, she was walking on with Erne, so fully alive to all 
 the spell of the day and scene, to every association of the spot, 
 that she was almost unconscious of the presence of her com- 
 panion. And, although aware of this unflattering fact, Erne was 
 not restive under it. There was a charm in the girl's indiffer- 
 ence, which was like a new flavor to his mental palate. Then, it 
 was almost worth being ignored to have such good opportunity to 
 watch the turn of the white throat, the lines of the clear-cut pro- 
 file, to meet now and then the large clear eyes, full of wistful, 
 shining light. 
 
 " What do you see ? " he asked at length. " Marie Antoinette, 
 with her fair Austrian face, and the Watteau groups of courtiers 
 and ladies who followed her here to play at rustic life ? Is there 
 no plant with which you could anoint my eyes that I might see 
 them too? " 
 
 She shook her head, smiling. " I do not know of any such 
 plant," she answered. " And it seems to me that yon ought not 
 to need it if you are an artist." 
 
 " You think that an artist must possess the second-sight called 
 imagination ? " 
 
 "Surely, yes," she replied with some surprise. "Wnat else 
 does it mean to be an artist ? " 
 
 " I suppose it ought to mean that," he said. " And in propor- 
 tion as it does mean it is a man an artist. But you must remem- 
 ber that I am one in a very imperfect degree." 
 
 "Are you? " she said. There was something prepossessing in 
 the frank words, and not less so in the handsome young face on 
 which the sun was shining. "Modesty is a very good thing," 
 she went on, smiling again, " and to think poorly of yourself and
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 89 
 
 highly of art that is the secret of great achievement, is it 
 not?" 
 
 "Perhaps so," he replied. "Modesty, as you remark, is a 
 very good thing, and I have been cultivating it lately. I have 
 discovered that a taste is not a passion that appreciation is not 
 power. In feeling I shall always be an artist in execution, I 
 fear, never." 
 
 " That is a pity," she said, in a voice which seemed made to 
 express every shade of feeling. "Perhaps you are mistaken 
 perhaps you are only discouraged. One can not expect to be- 
 come a great artist in a day." 
 
 "Certainly not," he answered; "but I don't think I am 
 merely discouraged. I have weighed myself and found myself 
 wanting," said the young fellow with honest self-depreciation, 
 yet a lurking desire not to be taken at his word. "It is not a 
 pleasant thing to realize, mais que voulez-wus f '" shrugging his 
 shoulders lightly in Gallic fashion. " One should face the truth. 
 And the truth for me is that I can make pictures, but I can not 
 put into them the soul of genius." 
 
 He saw what quick sympathy the girl had, when she looked at 
 him now. Surely, eyes speaking so much so eloquent, so lus- 
 trous, so kind he had never met before ! They brought into his 
 mind the splendid Homeric images. Just such eyes ho fancied 
 the goddesses, sweeping down from Olympus, had. 
 
 " But genius is a rare thing," said the sweet voice, " and if no 
 one was satisfied to fall short of it, there would not be much 
 accomplished in the world. If one can add a little to the sum of 
 existing beauty, should one refuse to do so because one is not 
 a Kaphael ? " 
 
 "Ah, if one can! " said he. "But do you really think that 
 the world is in need of any more mediocre pictures? That is 
 hardly the conclusion forced upon one in the galleries." 
 
 " No," she answered, candidly. " There is certainly no need 
 of more mediocre pictures. But great ones there is always need 
 of them. And perhaps special need, since modern art seems so 
 deficient in greatness. When I go to the Luxembourg, and think 
 of the Vatican or the Pitti or the Belle Arti " 
 
 "But you know it is not fair to compare men with giants,"
 
 90 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 lie said, rousing a little. " Art is the expression, the outcome, of 
 the spirit of its age and this age has not one but a thousand 
 spirits. The air is full of the clash of old and new ideas. In such 
 an atmosphere art can not flourish. It needs serenity, and yes 
 it needs faith." 
 
 "And you believe that there is neither serenity nor faith to 
 be found at the present time?" she asked, interested, and not 
 having Godwin to inform her that what she heard was merely an 
 echo of the ideas of other men. 
 
 " I believe that the age does not know them," he answered. 
 " Individual lives may; but art is the expression of the force of a 
 current. Whether a man will or no, the spirit of his age tells 
 upon his work. It does not follow that they were all religious 
 men, those wonderful mediaeval painters. But they felt around 
 them the presence of intense religious enthusiasm ; they painted 
 for the eyes of religious faith, and they were inspired by an at- 
 mosphere of strong, unwavering belief." 
 
 It was pleasant to talk in this strain to such a listener, to a 
 face that responded so quickly, that expressed assent, doubt, or 
 denial almost without the aid of words. As they walked on, 
 Erne felt that it would have been quite possible to expound his 
 theories for an indefinite length of time. But now a space opened 
 before them : here and there on the sward were set a number of 
 picturesque buildings thatched cottages, with deep shade droop- 
 ing over their roofs, a silent mill, an empty dairy. " The Swiss 
 hameau," he said. 
 
 It was like an enchanted world as they paused and looked 
 around. Not a leaf stirred in the golden air ; the placid, shining 
 water scarcely seemed to flow under the bridge that spanned it; 
 the glades of the park stretched away, full of sylvan beauty. In 
 the intense stillness one listened for the echo of laughing voices, 
 the rustle of silken skirts, the tread of dainty feet feet destined 
 to mount the steps of the guillotine. 
 
 "Oh!" said Irene, in a low tone, "how lovely it is and 
 how sad ! " 
 
 " Ah 1 deserted places are sad," said Erne. 
 
 " There is more than the sadness of desertion here," she an- 
 swered. " There is the shadow of tragedy. Do you not feel it
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 91 
 
 all the time under these trees of Trianon? I wonder if the leaves 
 could have rustled, the sunshine streamed, the shadows fallen 
 over the grass, the day the queen met her death yonder at her 
 palace-gate in Paris ? " 
 
 " Nature has no tears to shed for any tragedy," replied the 
 young man. He threw back his head, and looked up at the 
 green boughs, the limpid, stainless sky. " What a day ! " he said. 
 " Do not darken it with the thought of that past piteous suffering! 
 Life is so short there are so many things that of necessity mar our 
 happiness that we should not introduce a single unnecessary one." 
 
 "Do you mean that we should ignore all suffering except 
 our own, which we can not ignore?" she asked. "That would 
 make us very selfish." 
 
 " Oh, the poetry of pathos is an essential part of life," said the 
 disciple of sestheticism. " But harsh and terrible tragedy one 
 shrinks from the thought of that in a scene like an embodied 
 pastoral." 
 
 " But it happened! " said the girl, in a low voice. To her, at 
 that moment, it was real beyond expression all the long martyr- 
 dom of agony, and the moment of final release, when the fair 
 royal head fell under the axe. She could not introduce it merely 
 as a pathetic, poetic adjunct to the beauty around. Her cheek 
 grew pale, her eyes gathered back their wistful sadness a sad- 
 ness which had dissolved into a mist of tears when she stood 
 before the lovely picture of the boy-Dauphin, painted by Lebrun, 
 in the boudoir of the Petit Trianon. To Erne, although he depre- 
 cated it, there was something in this intense sympathy, this pas- 
 sionate realization of things wholly beyond the circle of personal 
 knowledge or interest a circle which proves an insurmountable 
 barrier to most of the world which was very charming, though 
 he felt that such a nature was not formed for happiness. It was 
 interesting, however, it was spirituelle, it promised to the ses- 
 thetic mind much more gratification than is to be obtained from 
 the contemplation of anything so commonplace as happiness. 
 
 They were rapidly becoming very well acquainted as they 
 wandered about the hamlet; peered through the closed casements 
 into empty rooms; looked in the dairy at the marble slabs, where 
 fair hands had played at butter-making ; saw the picturesque mill
 
 92 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 reflected in the glassy water, where swans were slowly sailing to 
 and fro ; and finally paused on the bridge, under which flowed the 
 stream along which their path had lain. 
 
 " It is like a pastoral," said Irene; " but a Watteau pastoral 
 fit for a court in masquerade. It is a scene to suggest pictures 
 and poems a whole world of dramatic possibilities. What 
 charming figures one sees coming along the glades, or crossing the 
 sward yonder some joyous, some agitated; and then, you know, 
 one begins to imagine all the causes of the joy and the agitation. 
 It is difficult to stop in such fancies," she broke off, with a smile. 
 
 " No doubt it is to you," said Erne. "And I suppose you 
 often find suggestion for them ? " 
 
 " Continually," she answered. "Sometimes it torments me. 
 I should like to be more how do you call it? matter-of-fact! 
 Why, I never see a figure passing down a road especially if it be 
 lonely, and with a sunset sky beyond that I do not dream out a 
 destiny for it." 
 
 "It is no wonder that you sing as you do," he said. And 
 then he added, "I wish you would sing one song for me 
 now." 
 
 " But what would be appropriate ? " she asked, with perfect 
 simplicity and readiness to oblige. " One should not sing any- 
 thing at the Trianon. It ought to be something associated with 
 the past with the old court life. Ah, I know what it shall 
 bel Do you know this ballad of the Cardinal Due de Rohan? " 
 
 Then in a low, soft voice she began to sing: 
 
 " ' Ton souvenir est toujours 1&, 
 
 toi, qui nc peut plus m'entendre, 
 Toi qui j'aimais d'amour si tendre, 
 Jamais mon coeur ne t'oubliera. 
 Toujours presente a ma pensee, 
 
 Ma voix sans cesse redira 
 Douceur d'amour trop tot passed, 
 Ton souvenir cst toujours la.' " 
 
 It is simple in melody, this strain which has been wafted 
 down to us from the ancien regime, but there is tenderness as 
 well as grace in it, a fragrance like the faint odor of faded roses.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 93 
 
 It seemed to summon back all the stately and beautiful past, 
 all those courtly shades of which the girl had been dreaming. The 
 thrill of her voice told Erne how her thoughts were with that 
 life, so full of picturesque splendor and elaborate social art, yet 
 when eyes shone and lips smiled and hearts beat even as they do 
 to-day. The sun was sinking low in the sky, the shadows were 
 stretching long over the turf, the windows of the Swiss houses, 
 catching the light, gleamed as if from radiant fires within, the 
 swans were sailing on a glorified expanse of water. It was one 
 of the enchanted moments of life which end too soon. 
 
 Several hours later, evening had fallen over the great city, the 
 beautiful day had melted into a mild, clear night, the sky thick- 
 set with stars, which looked serenely down on the lines of flash- 
 ing light along the wide Boulevards, the brilliant shops, the 
 hurrying crowds, the sparkling cafes, as Stanhope and Erne 
 drove together from the railway-station. " It has been a delight- 
 ful day. Thank you, and good-night," Mrs. Falconer had said, 
 when they parted. She looked a little tired ; but Irene's radiance 
 was still undimmed. Her eyes were shining like stars under the 
 great dark-plumed hat, when she, too, said good-night, and was 
 borne away by the eager horses and impatient coachman. Then 
 the two young men called a cab, and were jolting together over 
 the stones, when Erne said, abruptly : 
 
 " Do yon remember Matthew Arnold's ' Urania ' ? Mademoi- 
 selle Lescar has kept the first verse of it running through my 
 mind all day." Then, without waiting for an answer, he began to 
 quote : 
 
 " ' She smiles and smiles, and will not sigh, 
 
 While we for hopeless passion die ; 
 
 Yet she could love, those eyes declare, 
 
 Were men but nobler than they are.' " 
 
 " So, she will not sigh ! " said Stanhope, with a laugh. " My 
 dear fellow, if there were any good in warnings, I should be 
 tempted to offer you one. I should be tempted to say: Don't 
 fancy yourself in love with Irene Lescar 1 She could easily turn 
 what has been amusement with you hitherto into uncomfortable
 
 94 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 earnest but, however much you might die with hopeless passion, 
 I doubt if you would waken any response in those eyes of hers. 
 They are filled with the light of imagination the light that will 
 hardly suffer her to find her ideal among the sons of men." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IT would be difficult to imagine a greater relief than that 
 which Mrs. Falconer's resolution with regard to Irene brought 
 to Stanhope's mind. Where the girl was to be placed in the 
 event of her mothers death, had troubled him scarcely less tban 
 it troubled Madame Lescar, and that the difficulty should be 
 solved in such a manner was as agreeable as it was unexpected. 
 He had foreseen, from the beginning of Mrs. Falconer's interest in 
 the mother and daughter, that she would be of great assistance to 
 him ; but, well as he knew her, he had not ventured to expect 
 such assistance as this realizing how far it would be from the 
 inclination of many a beautiful woman to place near herself a 
 woman more beautiful, and from that of most worldly women to 
 assume the responsibility of protecting one who had no worldly 
 influence or rank. " But she is not like other women," he said to 
 himself. " She is sui generis, and deserves all the admiration and 
 confidence that one can give her." 
 
 In this pleasant frame of mind he went, the day after the Ver- 
 sailles expedition, to tell his news to Madame Lescar. As he 
 entered the gate of the house on the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, 
 he met Irene and Nathalie just issuing forth. 
 
 " Bon jour, M. Stanhope," said the girl, putting out her hand. 
 " You have come to see mamma, and, fortunately, she has just 
 taken her dejeuner, and is able to see you. Be sure to tell her 
 what a delightful day we spent yesterday. She has asked many 
 questions about it, and seems pleased to hear all that I can tell." 
 
 "And that is a great deal, I have no doubt," he said, "for 
 I think you enjoyed the day." 
 
 " I am sure you know that I did," she answered. " But let 
 Nathalie take you np to mamma. I will wait for her here." 
 
 It occurred to him to wonder if she had a thought apart from
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 95 
 
 her mother ; but he accepted his dismissal, and followed Nathalie 
 across the court-yard, up the stairs, and into the presence of 
 Madame Lescar, who was lying on a sofa in the salon. She made 
 no attempt to rise, but held out her hand to him. with a smile of 
 welcome, sweet and cordial as her smiles always were. 
 
 "I am very glad to see you," she said. "I was thinking of 
 you when I heard your step, thinking that I would write to you 
 if you did not come to-day." 
 
 " I am delighted to appear so opportunely," he said. "What 
 is it that you wish of me ? " 
 
 He sat down as he spoke, and she looked at him with the ex- 
 pression of trustful reliance which always touched him peculiarly. 
 
 "I wish," she answered, "to say that I have suffered much 
 lately, and I think that whatever is to be done should not be de- 
 layed. Are the papers ready for my signature ? " 
 
 " They will be ready to-morrow," he replied. " You have 
 only to appoint an hour, when I can attend you with the no- 
 tary." 
 
 " This is a good hour," she said. "If you will come at this 
 time to morrow, I shall be ready to receive you." 
 
 " I will come," he said. " Consider that the matter is settled, 
 and let me have the satisfaction of knowing that your mind is at 
 rest." 
 
 "If you could know how much!" she said. "I am giving 
 you a great deal of trouble, but if you could realize what your 
 kindness is to me, I am sure you would be repaid." 
 
 " Do you think that I need to be repaid ? " he asked. " Are 
 you not aware that it gives me happiness to be of service to you ? " 
 
 " I do not doubt it," she answered, " and therefore I have not 
 hesitated to ask very much of you. Ah, not a word I " she said, 
 putting her slender, transparent hand down upon his. "I know 
 what I have asked I know what a responsibility I have laid 
 upon you." 
 
 " I hope," he said, " that it may be long before I am called 
 upon to assume that responsibility. But I have to tell you that 
 your mind may also be at rest witb regard to something that has 
 troubled you about your daughter the question of a home of 
 social guardianship "
 
 96 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Yes," she said, lifting herself eagerly, "that has troubled ine 
 greatly. "What have you to suggest?" 
 
 "I have to tell you," he answered, "that Mrs. Falconer has 
 empowered me to say that, if you desire it, she will take Irene 
 under her care. I do not think you could ask anything better for 
 her than that." 
 
 "Nothing! " she replied, in a low, fervent tone "nothing! " 
 
 She sank hack on her pillows, and closed her eyes for a mo- 
 ment. Then she lifted the lids again, and looked at him with a 
 glance full of grateful brightness. 
 
 " It is to you that I owe this," she said. " How can I thank 
 you ? " 
 
 " You must not thank me at all," he answered, "for it is not 
 to me that you owe either your daughter's attractiveness or Mrs. 
 Falconer's kindness." 
 
 "I owe it to you that I ever heard of Mrs. Falconer," she said, 
 " and I suspect that I owe to you also the suggestion of an ar- 
 rangement which is better than I could have dared to hope for." 
 
 " No," he insisted, " you do not. I may have entertained a 
 faint hope of something of the kind ; but I never suggested it 
 even indirectly. The proposal came spontaneously from Mrs. 
 Falconer herself." 
 
 " This, then, is what she meant when she said that, as far as 
 her friendship could shield Irene, she should not be left alone. 
 Surely, I did well to feel that she is a woman to trust." 
 
 " I do not think that a truer heart exists nor a more generous 
 nature," said Stanhope. " And everything seems to combine to 
 fit her for this trust. There are the ties of country and of he- 
 reditary friendship, besides the great advantages of wealth and 
 high station." 
 
 "And the fact," said Madame Lescar, "that she has sufficient 
 seniority to give her influence over Irene, but not enough to de- 
 stroy the sympathy of youth. It almost seems as if the arrange- 
 ment is too perfect too much all that I could desire. There 
 must be a flaw somewhere." She paused a moment, then 
 added, " Mrs. Falconer is young and beautiful may she not 
 marry ? " 
 
 "It is possible, certainly," replied Stanhope; "but I do not
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 97 
 
 think probable. As far as I am able to judge, Mrs. Falconer 
 thinks of nothing so little as of resigning the freedom which Fate 
 has restored to her. Of coarse, the world does not credit this. 
 There is no more obstinate hallucination fixed in the minds of 
 mankind than the idea that every man or woman who is single 
 must desire to be married. I do not mean to say that Mrs. Fal- 
 coner may not eventually make a marriage that would give her 
 higher position, wider opportunities in life but I am sure that 
 she has no immediate thoughts of it." 
 
 " Is she ambitious ? I had hoped I had thought perhaps that 
 you " 
 
 He made a gesture which stopped her. " Et tu Brute f" ho 
 said, half laughing. "I fancied that you knew mo better; Mrs. 
 Falconer does, at any rate. We understand each other, we are 
 the best, the frankest friends and some day when she may be 
 madame la duchesse or madame 1'ambassadrice, I shall still havo 
 ray familiar corner in her salon, like Chateaubriand in that of 
 Madame Eecamier." 
 
 "The comparison is damaging to your case," she said, smiling, 
 " for Chateaubriand was lover, not friend." 
 
 "Friendship for such a woman must partake somewhat of the 
 character of love," he answered, " but a great difference lies in the 
 fact that it is less selfish. A friend does not desire to monopo- 
 lize : a lover always desires to do so." 
 
 "Yes," she said, "love is almost invariably selfish ; and for 
 that reason I hope that you are right, that Mrs. Falconer will be 
 content with her present freedom at least until Irene has suffi- 
 cient age and experience to decide upon her future. That future 
 is something of which I can not permit myself to think," she 
 added, with the shadow of pain falling over her face. " I can I 
 must trust God." 
 
 The next day, according to his promise, Stanhope brought the 
 notary, and, after her business arrangements had been completed, 
 a calm of spirit settled upon Madame Lescar, which in its result 
 upon her health had the appearance of improvement. " I am 
 ready now for Death," she said : but, because she was ready, 
 Death seemed to draw back and lower his leveled dart. She 
 grew stronger instead of weaker, and a few days later Irene said 
 5
 
 98 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 to Mrs. Falconer joyously, "Mamma is certainly better much 
 better." 
 
 " There is undoubtedly a great improvement," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, who had herself observed it, and who could hardly believe 
 what the doctor suid to Stanhope : " It is a mere fluctuation of 
 the disease a flicker of the candle." 
 
 " I have not seen her so much better for a long time not for 
 nearly five months," the girl went on. "If she continues to im- 
 prove so rapidly, we may leave Paris before long and go back to 
 Italy." 
 
 " Ton would be glad of that ? " 
 
 " Who would not be glad to return to Italy ? I am like Mignon 
 my heart is always there. But still, if it were better for mam- 
 ma to be here or anywhere else I should be satisfied never to 
 see it again." 
 
 "Poor child!" thought Mrs. Falconer, as she had thought 
 often before. "But I must not waste time," she said, aloud, "for 
 do you know what I am here at this untimely hour for? " it was 
 not more than eleven o'clock. " It is to take you to the Chapelle 
 Expiatoiro. Have you forgotten that this is the anniversary of 
 the death of Marie Antoinette, and that when we were at Ver- 
 sailles I promised to go with you to the Chapelle to-day ? " 
 
 " I scarcely expected you to remember it," said the girl, with 
 pleased, grateful eyes. "How very kind you are! I will get 
 ready at once." 
 
 A few minutes later they were driving around the Place do 
 1'Etoile, down the Avenue Friedland, and into the Boulevard 
 Ilaussmann, where the carriage stopped at the gate of the Chapelle. 
 It is a quiet spot ordinarily, although around it the great life of 
 Paris surges in restless tide only a few tonnes and children gen- 
 erally sit under the trees of the small green square, or walk along 
 its paths. But twice a year on the anniversaries of the death 
 of the king and of the queen this is changed. Then carriages 
 throng about its gates, and all day long a quiet, respectful crowd 
 pours into the building. One who watches this crowd may see 
 bearers of the oldest and noblest names of France, men who are 
 descendants of the Crusaders, delicate high-born women, and 
 mingled with these now and then, some of the lower orders.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 99 
 
 But never the middle class be sure the bourgeois does not go to 
 the Chapelle Expiatoire ! It would be wiser to expect to draw- 
 blood from a stone than to find the beautiful virtue of loyalty in 
 the breast of a roturier.* 
 
 " I came here once before on the anniversary of the death 
 of the king," said Mrs. Falconer, as they walked up to the door 
 of the vestibule, into which a stream of people was pouring. 
 "But I found it impossible to enter the chapel, the crowd was so 
 great and that notwithstanding masses are said every half-hour 
 from seven o'clock until noon. You see it is a profession of faith 
 to be here and look at that ! " 
 
 What she indicated were two large baskets filled to overflow- 
 ing with cards. " Those are sent to the Comte do Chambord," 
 she said. " If anything could cheer the heart of an exiled king, 
 it ought to be such proofs of devotion, when we consider how 
 this wretched human nature of ours is prone to turn from what 
 is fallen and worship only risen suns. And that is to be sent to 
 Frohsdorf also, rfest-ce pas ? " she asked of a man who stood be- 
 hind a table where lay a large open volume, on the pages of which 
 a number of names were inscribed. 
 
 " Oui, madame" he answered. " Will madame inscribe her 
 name ? " he added, offering a pen. 
 
 "Why not?" she said, with a smile to Irene. "It will tell 
 the Comte de Chambord nothing, except, perhaps, that he has the 
 best wishes of two strangers for I shall write yours also, shall I 
 not?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Irdne, with all her heart in the soft music of 
 her voice. "I surely hope that he may yet 'have his own 
 again.' " 
 
 The words, though spoken in English, were heard and evi- 
 dently understood by a gentleman at that moment approaching, 
 for he looked quickly and with interest at the speaker. Then his 
 glance fell on the lady who was writing, and when Mrs. Falconer 
 laid down her pen, she found herself face to face with the Mar- 
 quis de Chateaumesnil. 
 
 * Since this was written the demolition of the Chapelle has been decreed 
 by the existing government of France a fresh proof of the vandalism and 
 intolerance which are practiced in the name of liberty !
 
 100 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure," he said, with a smile in his 
 dark eyes which proved that the words were no mere form of ex- 
 pression. " I am delighted to see you here, madame ; and still 
 more delighted that you are sending your name to the king." 
 
 " Do you not know that I am an adherent, or at least a well- 
 wisher, of Henri Cinq ? " she asked. " Though I confess it is not 
 that which has brought me here, hut the desire of my young 
 friend Mademoiselle Lescar to see the Chapelle, and to see it es- 
 pecially to-day." 
 
 The Marquis turned to Irene with a how. " I had the pleas- 
 ure of hearing mademoiselle express a sentiment a moment ago, 
 for which I am glad to be able to thank her," he said. 
 
 " What was the sentiment that she hoped the king would 
 ' have his own again ' ? " said Mrs. Falconer. " Ah, we all hope 
 that but hopes, unfortunately, do not count for much. Irene, 
 let me present the Marquis do Chateaumesnil. And now, M. le 
 Marquis, do you think that in return for our sympathy you can 
 get us within the Chapelle ? " 
 
 "I do not think there is any doubt of it," answered the Mar- 
 quis ; " but we shall probably have to wait until the mass at pres- 
 ent being said is over." 
 
 They passed on, and found themselves in the raised, oblong 
 court, with cloistral arches on each side, which lies between the 
 vestibule and the chapel. Here, ranged in serried order, are the 
 tombs of the Swiss guard the brave men who died fighting on 
 the stairs of the Tuileries, knowing well that the struggle was 
 vain, yet ready to be slaughtered rather than betray their trust. 
 It was plain that the mere sight of these memorials touched Irne 
 like a strain of heroic music. Mrs. Falconer saw the quick light 
 in her eyes, and asked of what she was thinking. 
 
 " Only how appropriate it is that these should be here," she 
 answered. " It seems as if they are still a guard in death as in 
 life. It reminds one of Schiller's line : 
 
 'As sleeps a soldier on the shield he would not quit.' " 
 
 " I think," said the Marquis, with another glance of interest 
 at the kindling face, " that looking at these tombs one realizes 
 forcibly how much better a noble death is than an unworthy life.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 101 
 
 They might easily have saved their lives for a time, those soldiers ; 
 but, in such case, who would know of them now ? while as it is, 
 their name is the synonym for courage and faithfulness, the most 
 glorious of virtues." 
 
 Talking in this way, they stood. The inclosura was filled with 
 people, waiting their opportunity to enter the chapel, which was 
 crowded to overflowing. On the steps a silent throng held their 
 places, but scattered about the court were various knots and groups 
 engaged in conversation. "With most of these, the Marquis ex- 
 changed salutations, and many curious glances were cast on the 
 beautiful women whom he attended. Mrs. Falconer, however, 
 recognized a few acquaintances, for her social lines extended even 
 into the exclusive Faubourg ; and she turned now and then to 
 whisper to Irene the name of some distinguished man, or of some 
 graceful, high-bred woman. 
 
 Altogether, it was a scene which, as a prelude to what awaited 
 them within the chapel, touched Irene in a manner only possible 
 to a poetic nature. The soft autumn sky overhead, the caressing 
 breath of the autumn air, with the light, fitful breezes which now 
 and then sent showers of yellow leaves fluttering from the trees, 
 all seemed full of the suggestion of that other day when the death- 
 cart rolled into the Place de la Concorde, and a woman, whose 
 hair had grown gray with agony, looked toward the place where 
 she had reigned, and bade farewell to earth. If the tragedy had 
 seemed real to the girl under the trees of the Trianon, how much 
 more real did it seem in this spot once the obscure burial-ground 
 where the bodies of the king and queen were thrust into the earth, 
 now a shrine of expiation ! 
 
 " One sees here how strong the Legitimist feeling is in France," 
 she thought, looking at the crowd which filled the court, the dense 
 throng within the chapel. All that is best in unhappy France was 
 indeed represented there the element which recognizes the great 
 principle of authority in the temporal, as in the spiritual, order to 
 be the sole hope of stability in either ; but even to a girl, with no 
 knowledge of the troubled affairs of states, an instinct was borne 
 that it was too high an element to leaven the great mass of igno- 
 rance, swayed by passion and cupidity. And something like this 
 she heard the Marquis say a moment later to Mrs. Falconer.
 
 102 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "No, I am not sanguine," he said, in answer to some remark 
 of hers. " I can not permit myself to be blinded by hope. Things 
 must grow worse much worse before they can grow better. 
 Men must learn where the tide of revolution will carry them." 
 
 " Do you, like Mr. Godwin, look for a terrible consummation 
 to the present state of affairs ? " she asked. 
 
 " I look," he answered, "for a flood that will sweep away the 
 whole existing fabric of social order. After it has passed, I know 
 not what will remain except that one ark will be found floating 
 upon the waters." 
 
 His tone and manner surprised Mrs. Falconer exceedingly. 
 There was a gravity and depth of feeling in them which was as 
 far as possible from what she had imagined of the man she had 
 conceived him to be. " After all, Mr. Stanhope may be right," 
 she thought, " and I have read him superficially." 
 
 A little later they succeeded in entering the chapel, where one 
 crowd had given place to another as dense. 
 
 To Irene it was an impressive scene. The bowed, silent throng 
 of people extending to the verge of the sanctuary, where, amid 
 starry lights and silver lilies, the final mass was being said; the 
 heavy black draperies, the multitudes of wreaths and crosses, the 
 statues of the king and queen at opposite ends of the chapel, re- 
 lieved against the dark background, and telling their piteous story 
 to the gaze and heart of the youngest child present ; the last words 
 of each the will of the king, the letter of the queen to Madame 
 Elisabeth inscribed upon the pedestals in letters of gold all 
 seemed to her full of the most noble pathos. They were near the 
 statue of the queen, and, looking up at the kneeling form to which 
 a shrouded figure is presenting a cross, she had a brief knowledge 
 of that exaltation of feeling not for long possible to weak human 
 nature in which we recognize the divine office of suffering, even 
 in its most awful forms. Truly she drank the bitter cup to its 
 dregs, that fair, pampered child of imperial fortune but who 
 can read those last words from the gloomy cell of the Conciergerie, 
 without feeling that anguish had borne heroic fruit, and that the 
 daughter of kings had risen to be the daughter of martyrs? 
 
 Great sorrows are great lessons to those who will heed them. 
 And the girl whose life had been so early shadowed by wrong,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 103 
 
 and whose heart was now torn by the fear of desolation, felt as if 
 for a little time she gained a height where both wrong and desola- 
 tion were more endurable. " Look at me ! " said the beautiful, 
 agonized face of the murdered queen. " Of my splendors and my 
 sufferings what remains to me but the merits gained by the last? " 
 And then the solemn voice at the altar said, " Oremus ! " 
 
 Afterward Irene wondered if this scene, with all the thoughts 
 and feelings which it suggested, was in some manner a preparation 
 for what lay before her. Certainly she had rarely been more 
 deeply stirred. It was a face still pale with emotion, on which 
 the soft sunshine fell, when she presently emerged from the 
 chapel, and with her companions walked across the court. She 
 hardly heard them as they talked, and she was not aware when 
 they paused to read an inscription. She walked on toward the 
 vestibule ; and, looking after her, the Marquis said : 
 
 " Mademoiselle Lescar seems deeply impressed. May I ask if 
 she is French ? " 
 
 " By descent only," answered Mrs. Falconer, glad of a loop- 
 hole of evasion. " She is a yonng compatriot of mine one who 
 is full of imagination and sensitiveness." 
 
 " She has a striking face," he said. 
 
 " It ia very beautiful," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " Ah, beauty is common beside such spirituelle expression," 
 said the Marquis, who, like most of his countrymen, ranked ex- 
 pression before perfection of feature. 
 
 There was time for no more. Irene had paused in the door 
 to wait for them, and when they joined her there were not many 
 steps to be taken to the carriage. After they were seated in this, 
 Mrs. Falconer, as if with a sudden thought, said to the Marquis: 
 
 "Do you know that Lady Falconer is in Paris, and with me 
 at present?" 
 
 "otfo, I was not aware of it," he replied, with a slight air of 
 surprise. " But I have been out of Paris for nearly a week until 
 to-day. May I beg you to make my compliments to my cousin, 
 and say that I shall have the pleasure of seeing her very soon 
 this evening, if you will permit me ? " 
 
 " I am sorry that wo are engaged this evening," she answered. 
 " But can you not dine with us to-morrow ? "
 
 104 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " I shall be delighted to do so," he replied. 
 " Then au revoir. Our last words are, Vive Henri Cinq ! 
 are they not, Irene ? " 
 
 Irene bowed and smiled, the Marquis lifted his hat, and the 
 carriage drove away. There was silence in it for a moment or 
 two, when the girl laid her hand lightly on that of her companion, 
 as she said : 
 
 " Thank you for taking me there to-day. I have liked it so 
 much so very much." 
 
 " Felt it too much, I am afraid," answered Mrs. Falconer, 
 with a glance at her face. " Your eyes are as sad as if you had 
 been to the execution of the queen! My dear child, what is to 
 become of you if you go through life responding in this manner 
 to every touch upon your spirit ? " 
 
 " How can I tell ? " asked Irene. " But was it not like a poem 
 of loyalty and faith ? " 
 
 " Yes, it was very touching the more because it was so genu- 
 ine, and genuine things are rare as rare as disinterested ones. 
 No man or woman there could serve any selfish end by going 
 many of them, indeed, like the Marquis de Chateaumesnil, have 
 given up much, have sacrificed ambition to loyalty." 
 
 "Is that what he has done?" asked the girl, with a quick 
 glance. " I am not surprised ; I liked his face." 
 
 If Mrs. Falconer had followed her impulse she would have 
 said, " And he liked yours." But she was too wise a woman for 
 that. She only smiled, and answered much as she had answered 
 the Marquis, " It is a handsome face." 
 
 "Yes, but that is not what I meant," replied Irene, putting 
 aside the statement as the Marquis had put aside that of her 
 beauty. " It is a face that seems full of distinction and power. It 
 reminds me of some of the historical portraits we saw the other 
 day at Versailles calm, high-bred, intellectual faces, with dark, 
 inscrutable eyes." 
 
 " That is not remarkable," said Mrs. Falconer. " They may 
 have been his .ancestors. It is, at least, the same type. And Mr. 
 Stanhope thinks that the Marquis has powers that under other 
 circumstances would make him distinguished." 
 
 "If Mr. Stanhope thiidis so, I am certain of it," said Irene
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 105 
 
 confidently. " But surely a Marquis de Ohateaumesnil is distin- 
 guished under any regime." 
 
 " He has the distinction of his rank, of course nothing can 
 rob him of that ; but what he desires also is the personal distinc- 
 tion that his forefathers won, in court and camp and cabinet. 
 But," added the speaker, suddenly bethinking herself that it 
 would not do to kindle the interest of this imaginative girl for 
 a man like the one of whom they spoke, "I regret to say that 
 there is a side to his character which is by no means heroic. 
 Failing worthy objects of ambition, he has fallen back npon 
 unworthy ones has been a mere man of fashion, squandered his 
 fortune, exhausted himself in idle pleasures in short, run a very 
 common course of folly." 
 
 "I am sorry," said Irene, with sincere regret in her voice. 
 " I liked his face, and I hoped I thought But perhaps he may 
 be less to blame than most men. If there was nothing else for 
 him to do " 
 
 "There is always something else something better to be 
 done," said Mrs. Falconer, her face hardening a little. " But 
 that also is what Mr. Stanhope says," she added a moment later, 
 softening and brightening. " There is certainly great' unanimity 
 of sentiment between you on the subject of the Marquis de Ch&- 
 teaumesnil. But here we are at your door, so I must bid you 
 good-by." 
 
 " Good-by and thank you again," said the girl, bending for- 
 ward to leave a kiss on the cheek nearest her. Then she sprang 
 lightly out and stood smiling in the gate-way while the carriage 
 drove off. The sun was shining down on her behind the slender 
 figure was a glimpse of the tranquil court, with its fountain and 
 beds of plants, overshadowed by the tall houses. Mrs. Falconer 
 carried the scene away as a picture in her mind. It is fortunate 
 that we can keep such pictures safe from the ravage of time, that 
 takes all else. The face that she left then, she was destined never 
 to see again, for an ineffaceable change had passed over it when 
 she saw it next : but in her memory she carries it yet, smiling 
 from the gate, with the golden sunshine falling over it, and the 
 green court behind.
 
 106 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 So far all had progressed with encouraging smoothness re- 
 garding Mrs. Falconer's intentions toward Irene. Mrs. Vance 
 had indeed shaken her head when they were communicated to 
 her, hut she had ventured on no remonstrance. A remonstrance, 
 however, was to be uttered, and that in a quarter where, to Stan- 
 hope at least, it was unexpected. No thought of anything of the 
 kind, no fear of being in any manner taken to task, was in his 
 mind when, after having enjoyed a remarkably pleasant dinner, 
 he entered Mrs. Falconer's drawing-room on the evening after her 
 visit to the Chapelle Expiatoire. He did not observe, as he en- 
 tered, that Lady Falconer had established herself in a deep fau- 
 teuil apart from the other ladies, nor that she let the group of 
 gentlemen file past without lifting her half-closed eyelids, until 
 he appeared, when she extended her fan and stopped him, saying : 
 
 " Come and sit down by me, Mr. Stanhope. I want you to 
 tell mo what is the meaning of this new caprice of Sydney's." 
 
 He sank into a chair and looked at her with a smile. She was 
 a very pleasant object to contemplate fair and plump, and, with- 
 out any special refinement of personal appearance, possessing the 
 grande dame air which is the unconscious result of assured posi- 
 tion. Her velvet dress lay in soft folds around her, there was an 
 atmosphere of delicate perfume and rich lace and diamond stars 
 that had a pleasant effect even upon Stanhope's masculine con- 
 sciousness, and her bright blue eyes had a challenge in them as 
 she repeated her question. 
 
 "You must first tell me," he replied, "to what caprice you 
 allude." 
 
 " As if you did not know ! " she said. " As if I did not know 
 that you are more in Sydney's confidence than any one else! 
 I mean her caprice for taking charge of a beautiful girl with 
 a mysterious parentage. "What does it mean ? " 
 
 " It means," said Stanhope, " that Mrs. Falconer has a keen 
 sense of the ties of old friendship. She did not, perhaps, explain 
 to you clearly who Mademoiselle Lescar is. There is nothing 
 whatever mysterious about her parentage. Her grandfather was
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 107 
 
 one of the most distinguished men of his day in American 
 political life even to English ears the name of Godfrey Lescar 
 means something yet. Her mother was, and still remains, one of 
 the most heautiful and charming of women but she made a 
 fatal mistake in her marriage." 
 
 " Sydney told me something about it. She is divorced, is she 
 net?"" 
 
 "Rather, the marriage was declared invalid on the pretext of 
 some legal informality in reality to enable Prince Waldegrave to 
 discard a wife who was an obstacle to his upward progress." 
 
 "Prince "Waldegrave!" repeated Lady Falconer. She lifted 
 herself and opened her eyes wider with surprise and interest. 
 "Is it possible," she said, "that Prince Waldegrave is the man? 
 I must have been asleep when Sydney was talking to me, or else 
 she did not mention his name. There is not a diplomatist in 
 Europe whom I admire more than Prince "Waldegrave." 
 
 "That is very probable," said Stanhope. "A great many 
 people admire him, and there is certainly no question of his 
 ability; unfortunately, there is also no question but that ho is 
 utterly heartless and profoundly unscrupulous. Those qualities 
 are by no means drawbacks in his diplomatic career; but they 
 wrecked the life of the woman who married him." 
 
 "Tell me the story," said Lady Falconer, thoroughly roused 
 now. 
 
 She listened with interest and close attention, and, if he told 
 the story well, it was in a different manner from that in which he 
 had told it to Mrs. Falconer. lie knew better than to attempt to 
 enlist the sympathy of this keen woman of the world he was 
 aware that, to those of her kind, misfortune is synonymous with 
 weakness, to be pitied, perhaps, but also to be despised. There 
 are numbers of people to whom, consciously or unconsciously, 
 prosperity is the test of merit. He dwelt, then, very little on the 
 pathetic side of the story, but strove to put Mrs. Falconer's kind- 
 ness in as ordinary a light as possible. That he failed in this 
 attempt, however, Lady Falconer's first words proved. 
 
 "It is a sad story," she said, "and I am quite disgusted with 
 Prince Waldegrave ; but I see exactly how it is about Sydney ! 
 You have worked upon her sympathy, Mr. Stanhope ; whereas, if
 
 108 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 your own sympathy and interest were not excited, you would 
 thiiik \vith me that she is making a mistake." 
 
 "I beg to differ with you," said Stanhope. "My interest and 
 sympathy certainly are excited, but, if they were not, I am sure 
 I should not think that Mrs. Falconer is making a mistake. 
 I am unable to see what possible ground there is for such an 
 opinion." 
 
 " You do not see that it is a mistake to burden herself with a 
 girl who, from what she tells me, is so remarkable that people 
 must ask who she is, and about whom awkward explanations will 
 have to be made? It is folly, it is romantic nonsense, and I con- 
 sider you very much to blame in the matter! " 
 
 " I am desolated to have incurred your displeasure," said Stan- 
 hope, with a smile which she did not particularly fancy ; "but I 
 do not see the necessity for any awkward explanations. Made- 
 moiselle Lescar can be presented to the world simply as one who 
 has hereditary claims on Mrs. Falconer's kindness the daughter 
 of an old friend." 
 
 " It is a foolish and hazardous experiment one that I should 
 never have expected from a woman of Sydney's good sense," said 
 Lady Falconer, who was plainly not to be moved from her po- 
 sition. "It is certain to give rise to disagreeable complications. 
 Besides, where will her responsibility end? And if she marries " 
 
 "Do you mean Mademoiselle Lescar? " asked Stanhope. 
 
 " No I mean Sydney." Then she looked at him with a 
 glance that was meant to penetrate, and added, " Of course we 
 both know that she will marry." 
 
 " It is likely," answered Stanhope, " though I have never seen 
 a woman whose thoughts seemed as free of any matrimonial 
 bent," 
 
 " You may think that praise, perhaps," said her ladyship, 
 calmly; "I do not. One must have common sense, or else one 
 may throw away one's advantages in life, and reap nothing. 
 Sydney has great advantages, and I want to see her make the 
 most of them. I have set my heart on her making a brilliant 
 marriage. You must agree with me that she is fitted to do so." 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I agree with you heartily; but I think she 
 has time"
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 109 
 
 Lady Falconer interrupted him by an impatient gesture. 
 " Time! " she said. "I grant you that she has time enough she 
 is youtg yet but what does she gain by waiting ? Everything 
 that she has now, a judicious marriage would only make more 
 secure. She would lose nothing, and she would gain a great 
 deal." 
 
 ""She would lose one thing, which I am sure she would 
 regret," said Stanhope. " That is freedom." 
 
 " A doubtful good," said Lady Falconer, shaking her head. 
 ""Wise control is better for individuals as well as for states. 
 Prince Waldegrave and I agree on that subject. You see freedom 
 means, among other things, imprudent benevolence. Ko, I would 
 like to see Sydney married at once." 
 
 " I presume, then, that you have selected the fitting man," 
 said Stanhope, who was able to smile because he felt sure that, 
 whatever her plans might be, they would come to naught. 
 
 "There have been several fitting men," she replied, with a 
 sigh. "There was Herbert Wycliffe, a rising man, a member of 
 Parliament but Sydney found him doll. Perhaps he was one 
 can not have everything but dullness is not always an objection- 
 able quality in a husband. However, the person whom I have in 
 my mind at present can not be accused of it ; and I suppose that 
 you know whom I mean ? " 
 
 Stanhope confessed his utter inability to imagine. " For," he 
 said, " I think we agree on one point that Mrs. Falconer is fitted 
 to be the wife of a man who will play a distinguished part in the 
 world," 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Falconer ; " and do you know any one bet- 
 ter fitted to play such a part than my kinsman, the Marquis 
 de Chateaumesnil ? " 
 
 Stanhope did not answer for a moment. Then, with the air 
 of a man who has had a surprise, he said: "M. de Chateaumesnil 
 has brilliant abilities, and in another country they would certainly 
 open for him a brilliant career ; but you forget what France is 
 now." 
 
 "Rather, do not you forget what France may be?" she 
 asked. "What can be predicted of it but change? I know 
 what you will say a change for the worse. But the worse
 
 110 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 must lead to the better. From anarchy men will fly to order; 
 and then " 
 
 "Henri Cinq on the throne of St. Louis, and the Marquis 
 de Chateaumesnil near that throne," said Stanhope. "I fear 
 that I can not take such an optimistic view of the future." 
 
 " Putting public life aside, then, his rank is high enough, his 
 social prestige great enough, to satisfy the most ambitious wom- 
 an." 
 
 "And his fortune? " asked Stanhope, with a slight, significant 
 smile. " You have forgotten to mention that." 
 
 " Not at all," replied the lady, in no wise disconcerted. " You 
 must be aware that his fortune has suffered very much. But wo 
 are people of the world, you and I, and w r e know that, in an ele- 
 vated rank of life, marriages are not arranged without a balance 
 of advantages." 
 
 "In other words, you think that Mrs. Falconer's fortune is 
 only a proper equivalent for the rank of the Marquis de Chateau- 
 mesnil ? " 
 
 " Without doubt. And I must add that, but for her personal 
 gifts, I should not think so. For it is not every woman who is 
 the possessor of American millions who would make a suitable 
 Marquise de Chateaumesnil." 
 
 "And am I to understand," said Stanhope, after a moment's 
 pause, " that the Marquis formally proposes himself, or is proposed 
 by you, as a suitor to Mrs. Falconer ? " 
 
 " No, no," answered she, quickly. " Don't go so fast ! The 
 idea is my own, and you are the first person to whom I have 
 breathed it. But it occurred to me at Glenrochan, and I should 
 not be surprised if it had also occurred to him." 
 
 Stanhope thought that he would not be surprised either ; but 
 he also thought that there was not, as far as he was aware of Mrs. 
 Falconer's attitude of mind, much therein to encourage any mat- 
 rimonial hopes. " But ' who is't can read a woman? ' " he said to 
 himself. "And such an alliance would give her all the scope 
 for social ambition that she could desire." 
 
 Lady Falconer, who was watching his face, leaned forward. 
 "I see that it begins to grow upon you," she said. "I have 
 counted much on you. your influence with her, your friend-
 
 HEART OF STEEL, 111 
 
 ship for him, make you just the person to accomplish all I de- 
 eire." 
 
 "Pardon me," he replied ; " but I must say at once that yon 
 count too much on my influence with Mrs. Falconer and my friend- 
 ship for the Marquis. I am hardly inclined to use either in any- 
 thing so perilous as a matrimonial scheme." 
 
 "Do you mean," she asked, a little pettishly, "that you are 
 opposed to such a marriage? " 
 
 " Not at all," he answered. " I only mean that I am opposed 
 to assuming the responsibility of arranging it." 
 
 What answer Lady Falconer would have made could only be 
 conjectured, for at this moment Count Schewndorf approached, 
 to whom Stanhope willingly yielded his seat and moved away. 
 
 It was not with altogether agreeable thoughts that he did so. 
 The remonstrance about Irene had ruffled him a little, but it was 
 entirely a surface ruffling, for he knew Mrs. Falconer too well to 
 imagine that she would be swayed in the least by such advice: 
 at that moment he recalled the picture of her, smiling up into 
 his face in the grounds of the Trianon, and congratulating herself 
 that she was rich and free, and able to do what she liked. Bat 
 the suggestion of her marriage to the Marquis de Chateaumesnil 
 had struck below the surface. Why it rendered him impatient, 
 Stanhope hardly knew. He had long anticipated, and, as he once 
 said, pleased himself by anticipating, some such destiny for her. 
 But, lulled into security by the decided manner in which she put 
 away that question of marriage which society insists upon thrust- 
 ing on the attention of all unmarried and desirable women, he 
 had dreamed of a number of years of her present life, with all its 
 delightful circumstances, and then the brilliant marriage, the 
 higher position as a finale. If she thought of surrendering this 
 freedom on which she had congratulated herself, no one knew 
 better than himself what a material difference it would make in 
 her position toward Irene. " But I have no reason to believe that 
 she would think of it," he said, by way of reassuring himself. 
 
 Meanwhile for it was Mrs. Falconer's evening of reception 
 the salon was filling with guests, and he had not taken many 
 steps away from the nook where Lady Falconer had established 
 herself, before hs was stopped by a young lady who uttered an
 
 112 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 exclamation of pleasure and surprise at sight of him. She was 
 a small and exquisitely pretty person, although, to an eye experi- 
 enced in such matters, it was apparent that she owed some meas- 
 ure of this prettiness to her toilet, which was perfect in its be- 
 comingness and grace. Nature, however, had been very generous 
 to her. An abundance of pale, golden hair framed a piquant 
 face, with large dark eyes full of diablerie, a delicate, blooming 
 complexion, a saucy nez retrousse, a mouth that seemed made for 
 laughter and kisses, and a dainty chin cleft by a dimple. She 
 held out her hand as Stanhope came toward her. He knew who 
 did not know ? Yiolet Dysart, one of the prettiest, and, in all 
 save her chief aim, most successful of those young ladies whom 
 America sends forth to amuse and astonish, and now and then to 
 conquer, Europe. 
 
 " How charmed I am to see you 1 " she said, " and surprised, too 
 though why I should be surprised I don't know. It is at least 
 as natural for you to be in Paris as it is for me to be here." 
 
 " Nothing could be more natural in either case," replied Stan- 
 hope, smiling, " Paris being a magnet likely to attract such wan- 
 dering bodies as we both are. I am delighted to meet you, and 
 to find you looking so well." 
 
 "I ought to look well," she answered, "for I always thrive 
 on enjoyment, and I have had an enchanting summer. I believe 
 the last time I saw you was here in Paris in May, and you told 
 me you were going to Iceland or some such place. I went to 
 London for the season, and then I was invited to several country- 
 houses, so that I have just returned to the Continent. No people 
 in the world live so perfectly as the English, and I would rather 
 marry an Englishman a high-born, wealthy Englishman than 
 any one else whatever." 
 
 "I think," said Stanhope, gravely, "that the last time I heard 
 you express a matrimonial preference, it was for an Austrian. I 
 welcome the change as an indication that perhaps your taste may 
 presently settle upon one of your own countrymen." 
 
 " Never ! " said she, emphatically. " I wonder that you vent- 
 ure to say such a thing to me, when you know that you are the 
 only American I can tolerate ; and you are not an American at 
 all you are a cosmopolitan."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 113 
 
 "I hardly know whether to thank you or not. I am afraid 
 that, when a man rids himself entirely of his nationality, he also 
 loses something of his individuality." 
 
 " Something hetter lost than kept at least in your case. In 
 mine it is different. I ahhor America ; but I find that to keep 
 my American manners modified, of course and my American 
 freedom, makes me more individual, and therefore more attract- 
 ive over here. I have reduced it to a fine art exactly how much 
 to keep and how much to let go and the consequence is, I have 
 had a wonderful success. I am astonished at it myself." 
 
 "I am not," said Stanhope, amused by her frankness. "You 
 were made to conquer. And I have no doubt you have a great 
 deal to tell me of your conquests in England? " 
 
 " Oh, a great deal more than I can tell you now. You must 
 come to see me. I am with the Gilberts, Kumero , Avenue 
 Marceau. You know them or, if you don't, they will be de- 
 lighted to know you. Poor souls ! they thought it would bo 
 charming to live abroad, and now that they have established them- 
 selves here they are very dull, and welcome any of their friends 
 who may appear, as though they were Crusoes cast away on a 
 desert island. I don't like their circle of acquaintances or any- 
 thing about them," pursued the young lady with the candor that 
 characterized all her utterances, " for, being in Paris, their chief 
 effort seems directed toward living as much as possible as if they 
 were in America. But I am chaperonless at present. The people 
 with whom I went to London have returned to America, and the 
 Jerninghams are still in Germany. I wish Mrs. Falconer would 
 take me under her wing I don't know anybody whose mode of 
 life I like better than hers. But of course it is not to be ex- 
 pected. "What woman in her place could be expected to take 
 charge of a younger and well, as pretty a woman ? " 
 
 "Especially if the latter is mistress of the art of fascination," 
 said Stanhope, with a smile which Miss Dysart did not altogether 
 understand. 
 
 "I presume you mean to be sarcastic," she said, " but all the 
 same, you are right. I do know something of the art though not 
 much more, probably, than Mrs. Falconer herself. A propos, does 
 she mean to marry the Marquis de Chateaumesnil ? "
 
 114 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Why should you think so ? " asked Stanhope, a little startled, 
 not only by the promptness with which tlie suggestion met him 
 again, but by the matter-of-course tone in which it was made. 
 
 Miss Dysart regarded him with an expression of surprise. 
 "It is what everybody who knows anything about the matter 
 expects her to do," she answered. " And when I was at Glen- 
 rochan did I tell you I was there for a fortnight? I saw that 
 Lady Falconer meant to make the match. I only wish I had 
 the chance ! " she added, with a candid sigh. " To hear one's self 
 called Madame la Marquise, to bear one of the oldest names and 
 be married to the most charming man in France what happi- 
 
 " You might not find as much happiness in it as you imagine, 
 perhaps," said Stanhope, gently being in truth sincerely sorry 
 for the girl, who was wasting her youth, her beauty, her un- 
 doubted cleverness in a hopeless quest that had already made her 
 only too notorious. "There may be better things than to be 
 called Madame la Marquise. For instance, to reward devotion." 
 
 " Such as that ? " she asked, her lip curling as she followed his 
 glance, which had involuntarily fallen on Erne. " No, monsieur, 
 je vous remercie, but not until I am ten years older, at least, shall 
 I think of that. Indeed, I doubt if ten twenty years will bring 
 me to it! But here comes M. le Marquis himself! However 
 hopeless it may be, I confess that I have a decided tendresse for 
 Mm." 
 
 Stanhope was of the opinion that the tendresse was very hope- 
 less; but, as M. de Chateaumesnil approached, he thought that if 
 the fascinations of the young lady made any impression, he, at 
 least, would not be grieved thereat. Yet it was with something 
 like a sense of shame that he recognized this feeling. After all, 
 he could not deny that Lady Falconer had been right in much 
 that she had said. The personal distinction, which was set like a 
 seal upon the Marquis, seemed only the outward token of qualities 
 which fitted him to achieve a position even higher than his in- 
 herited rank, were circumstances ever propitious. And among 
 those circumstances, what was more essential than the ease of 
 fortune which Mrs. Falconer could bestow ? while for that fort- 
 une she would certainly receive the fullest worldly equivalent.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 115 
 
 The idea once suggested persisted in intruding itself, let Mm do 
 what lie would to banish it ; and so it was, perhaps, that not 
 finding himself attuned to the social atmosphere, he soon sought 
 his hostess to say good-night. 
 
 "You are leaving early," she said. "I fear we are not very 
 entertaining. You must be sure to come on Sunday " (this was 
 when she received only her special friends). " But, meanwhile, I 
 see that something annoys you. Has Lady Falconer been talking 
 to you about Irene ? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered, glad at that moment to remember that 
 Lady Falconer had been doing so. " She has been taking me se- 
 verely to task blaming me for having excited your sympathy to 
 do a foolish thing." 
 
 " I was sure she would attack you," said Mrs, Falconer, " after 
 she found that her remonstrances had no effect upon me. But 
 you don't mind do you? You understand how it may look 
 from her point of view but, fortunately, her point of view does 
 not matter at all." 
 
 " I don't mind in the least what she thinks," he replied, " but 
 I need hardly say I should be deeply sorry, and reproach my- 
 self severely, if in any respect it did prove a foolish thing for 
 you." 
 
 She looked at him in surprise. " I am afraid that it is you 
 who are foolish," she said. "You have been influenced by Lady 
 Falconer's opinion, while on me it has not had the slightest 
 effect. Va-t-en ! I am ashamed of you ! " 
 
 " I am ashamed of myself," he answered, in a low tone, as he 
 took her hand. And then he went away. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE nest morning Stanhope was waked at an early hour by 
 the appearance of his servant at his bedside with a note which, 
 the man said, the messenger who brought it declared to be urgent 
 " else I should not have disturbed monsieur," he added, apolo- 
 getically. 
 
 " You were quite right," Stanhope answered, as he took the
 
 116 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 note and opened it. It was certainly urgent, for this was what it 
 contained in hasty, almost illegible writing : 
 
 "Dear Mr. Stanhope, pray come to us at once. Mamma is 
 very ill, and asks for you. IB^XE." 
 
 It required only a minute for him to rise and hegin to make a 
 hurried toilet, while he sent his servant to call a fiacre. He was 
 ready when the man returned to say that one awaited him. 
 Going down, he bade the messenger whom he knew to be the 
 son of Madame Lescar's concierge come with him, and as he 
 entered the carriage he gave first Madame Lescar's, and then, 
 changing it quickly, Mrs. Falconer's address. The boy stared ; 
 but the cause of the change was soon apparent, for, taking out bis 
 note-book as soon as he was seated, he began to write, as well as 
 the motion would allow, on a blank leaf. 
 
 "I inclose," he said, u a note from Ire'ne which has just 
 reached me, and I am on my way to answer the summons. I 
 think it probable that Madame Lescar is dying, and I know that 
 I do not ask too much of your kindness in begging you to follow 
 me as soon as you can. L. S." 
 
 He only paused long enough at Mrs. Falconer's door to leave 
 this, and then drove away toward the Avenue du Bois de Bou- 
 logne. As the fiacre rattled up the Champs-Elyse'es he thought of 
 the day of his arrival in Paris, when he had walked along there, 
 to obey another summons from Madame Lescar, and had met 
 Mrs. Falconer on the way. " But for that meeting, I might never 
 have thought of enlisting her interest in the matter," he reflected. 
 " Ought I to congratulate myself on the chance if chance it 
 was? It has certainly given peace to the poor soul to whom I 
 am going Heaven grant that it may never bring anything else 
 to the kind heart that proved itself so easily touched ! " 
 
 There were many thoughts like this to fill his mind ; yet such 
 is the dual action of consciousness, that he marked and appreciated 
 all the aspect of Paris at this early hour. The street-sweepers had 
 lately done their work and left the wide avenue clean as a palace- 
 court ; floods of sunshine poured over the chestnut-trees, under 
 which only a few workmen now loitered, over the basins of the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 117 
 
 Rond Point, where the fountains were not yet playing, over the 
 richly ornamented facades of the great hotels that extend thence 
 to the Barriere de Tfitoile, and over the nohle sculptures that 
 stand in high relief on the Arc de Triomphe. 
 
 As they drove around the latter, his eye involuntarily turned 
 to a scone that had for him much the same fascination as for 
 Irene the sweep of distant country hetween Longchamps and 
 St. Cloud soft woods, far heights, villages like spots of light. No 
 one can forget that view who has ever seen it with the golden 
 sky of evening above, when it seems like some enchanted world 
 heyond the passionate, struggling, feverish city. But at this hour 
 it was not less lovely. Shining mists were lying over it, already 
 lifting to meet the sun's ardent kiss, presenting a thousand effects 
 of light and color, and showing a dream-landscape toned to the 
 most exquisite softness. A fair day had dawned upon the earth 5 
 but its beauty was full of sadness to Stanhope, as he thought of 
 the eyes that, in all probability, would not see the setting of its 
 sun. 
 
 ' His worst anticipations were realized by the weeping maid, 
 who opened the door of Madame Lescar's apartment for him. 
 
 " Ah, monsieur," she said, " she is dying the sweet lady, the 
 good lady ! The doctor gives no hope." 
 
 Stanhope had expected to hear this; but nevertheless his 
 heart sank. " Ask the doctor to come and speak to me," he said. 
 "I will wait in the salon." 
 
 He entered that room as he spoke, and a moment later the 
 physician joined him. He had seen Stanhope before, and knew 
 his interest in Madame Lescar. 
 
 " It has come," he said " suddenly, as I knew that it would. 
 Her paroxysms are now very sharp, but the end may be peace- 
 ful." 
 
 "There is, then, no hope?" asked Stanhope. 
 
 The doctor looked surprised. " I thought I told yon how it 
 would be," he said. " There is not a shadow of hope. But I am 
 doing all that I can to alleviate the pain. When I arrived, her 
 suffering was terrible. But she is a brave woman, ma foi! In 
 the midst of it she found words to console her daughter, and she 
 directed that you and a priest might be sent for."
 
 118 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "The priest, no doubt, has arrived? " 
 
 " Some time ago." 
 
 " And when can I see her ? " 
 
 "The sooner the better. A paroxysm was passing off when I 
 left her, and no doubt she is now quiet. Come with me." 
 
 He walked across the room, drew back the portiere that hung 
 before the door of Madame Lescar's chamber, and entered. 
 
 Stanhope followed, and, if he had shrunk from the scene which 
 he feared awaited him, he recognized on his entrance that there 
 was nothing here to dread or shrink from. All was calm and 
 very peaceful. In Madame Lescar's suffering, the heart was 
 involved to a degree that made a reclining posture impossible for 
 her. She was seated, therefore, in a deep arm-chair, which was 
 placed in the middle of the floor, fronting a window through 
 which the eye rested on a great space of blue sky, with a few 
 golden tree-tops rising against it. Nothing else was visible. 
 Only heaven looked into this death-chamber. 
 
 That it was a death-chamber, Stanhope felt there was indeed 
 no room to doubt when his eye fell on Madame Lescar's face, 
 stamped as it was with the signet which none can ever mistake or 
 forget. Her complexion was of deathly pallor, her eyes closed, 
 her breathing faint and labored. One hand was pressed to her 
 heart; her daughter, who was kneeling at her side, clasped the 
 other with her head bent upon it. Near by stood one well used 
 to such scenes a priest of the order of the Passionists a crucifix 
 in his hand, his face full of compassion. The candles burning on 
 a table close at hand proved that the last sacraments had already 
 been administered. 
 
 As Stanhope drew softly toward her, an instinct seemed to 
 tell the dying woman of his presence, for she opened her eyes, and 
 with a smile of exceeding sweetness held out her hand to him. 
 
 "I am glad," she whispered, "that you have come in time." 
 
 He was too much moved to answer. He felt himself to be 
 not only in the presence of God's great messenger, but also of one 
 who had so well "fought the good fight," had so bravely "kept 
 the faith," had so borne injury with meekness and adversity with 
 unalterable patience, that there seemed a blessing in her touch. 
 
 After a moment she spoke again. ' It is not," she said, " that
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 119 
 
 I have anything to add to what I have already told you. I only 
 wish to thank you once more for all your kindness, to pray that 
 God will reward you for it, and to repeat that I have perfect 
 confidence in you." She paused a moment, then in a lower 
 whisper said, " Irfine ! " 
 
 The girl lifted her face, and, as Stanhope's glance fell on it, he 
 thought that he had never seen a human countenance so moved 
 and transfigured hy grief. It was the face of one whose heart 
 seemed literally breaking. There was scarcely a tinge of color in 
 the pale lips that said, "I am here, mamma." 
 
 "My child," said the faint voice, "I leave you to the care of 
 this good friend, and I beg you to do what he counsels and 
 directs. It is the comfort that God gives me for the bitterness of 
 leaving you, that I leave you in such kind hands." 
 
 "Ah!" was the answer with a sobbing breath, "I will do 
 whatever you wish ; but it matters nothing less than nothing 
 what befalls me after you are gone." 
 
 "It matters everything to me," said the dying woman. 
 " God forgive me if I am loath to go, when I think of leaving 
 you behind! But he has been very good he has raised up 
 friends for you and I know that you will obey my wishes. I 
 have written I have directed " 
 
 " Whatever you have directed I will do," said the girl. " Have 
 no doubt or fear but that I will f ulfill all your wishes. What else 
 shall I have to do in life? " 
 
 "And I," said Stanhope, taking the pale hand again, "prom- 
 ise, as I have promised before, that to the best of my ability 
 I will fulfill the trust you have given me; and that, so long as 
 I live, your daughter shall never lack a friend." 
 
 She thanked him by a look that he long remembered so 
 eloquent, so pathetic was it. And then there was silence for 
 several minutes. Presently the doctor touched her pulse and 
 whispered to Stanhope, " The end is near." 
 
 She heard him, and lifted again the lids that covered her eyes. 
 " I have something yet to do," she whispered brokenly. " Irene 
 my child " 
 
 " Here here, mamma ! Do you not see me ? " said the girl, in 
 an agonized voice.
 
 120 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Yes, it was plain that the mother still saw that loved, familiar 
 face. The beautiful eyes opened wide and gazed on it fondly for 
 a moment. Then with faint, tremulous eagerness, she said, 
 "Promise me I have waited until no\v to ask promise me 
 that you will forgive all who have wronged you." 
 
 Stanhope looked at Irene, and it appeared to him that even at 
 that moment her face hardened like granite. She hesitated then 
 for the first time broke into passionate weeping. 
 
 " Ask me anything else 1 " she cried. " I would give you my 
 life ; hut how can I say that I forgive one who wronged you more 
 than me ? " 
 
 " Because, were the wrong a hundred times greater, you must 
 not suffer it to embitter your heart and endanger your soul," an- 
 swered Madame Lescar, with strange command in the weak tones 
 of her voice. It seemed as if at that moment she rose above the 
 power of death, shaking off its fatal lethargy to speak these words 
 words which, Stanhope felt, it had been long in her mind to 
 speak at that moment. " What do you think that it looks to mo 
 here on the threshold of eternity? " she asked, with a light on 
 her face which those who saw it never forgot. " O my darling, 
 nothing nothing that is worth one thought of resentment ! We 
 have lost the splendors and the honors of the world : but, God 
 knows best. He knows how hard it is to possess them and save 
 one's soul. And, while the wrong was great, yet, remember, 
 nothing done to us can degrade us. Thank God, I have forgiven 
 it wholly! Could I do other when I look at thatt" She 
 pointed to the crucifix. " Give it to me, father," she said, and 
 when it was placed in her hands she extended it to her daughter. 
 " On this on this " she said, in tones that became more faint 
 and gasping "promise me on this that you will try to forgive!" 
 
 That it was a terrible struggle with Irene either to refuse or to 
 comply, Stanhope saw with compassion. The priest was silent 
 knowing that at such a moment the mother's words would have 
 far more weight than his. The pause lasted only an instant, 
 but it seemed longer than many minutes, when suspense was 
 ended by the doctor, who let his hand fall on the girl's shoulder. 
 
 "Speak quickly," he said, "or it will be too late to speak at 
 all."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 121 
 
 She cast a terrified glance on her mother's face, and, seeing the 
 awful change written there, cried in a choking voice : "I will try 
 I will try. O mamma, do you hear me ? I will try ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " said the priest, solemnly, as he lifted the crucifix to 
 the dying lips, which seemed to wear a sweet, triumphant smile. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THERE are timea in the lives of many of us when all familiar 
 things change and fall away it may he through some uprooting 
 catastrophe, or with the departing grace of some beloved pres- 
 ence and we suddenly find ourselves standing alone amid the 
 wreck of interests, hopes, and feelings. All seems at an end ex- 
 cept the mere fact of existence. The path we were treading has 
 come to a blank, dead wall. Does anything lie beyond ? Who 
 knows or cares ? All that we ask is to sink down at the foot of this 
 wall which BO hopelessly divides the past we can never retrace 
 from the future, for which we have no heart and be left in sorrow- 
 ful peace to our darkness and desolation. 
 
 This, at least, was all that Irene asked in the days that fol- 
 lowed her mother's death. To her the wall which ended her path- 
 way was blank and dead indeed. " As yet she has only loved 
 her mother," Madame Lescar once said with yearning pathos 
 to Stanhope ; and it was sadly true. No one not even God 
 had shared this love ; and so the poor, crushed heart had not a 
 ray of comfort or light in the agony that fell upon it. Even 
 Mrs. Falconer's kindness, untiring as it was, failed to move her. 
 Indeed, there is no doubt that, had she been utterly friendless, 
 it would hardly have been an added drop to the full cup of her 
 poignant grief. Everything was swallowed up in the greatness of 
 her desolation. And, in speaking of this desolation, it is difficult 
 to avoid apparent exaggeration, for it was such as does not often 
 befall any one, even upon this sorrowful earth. Not only had she 
 poured out all the devotion of her nature upon a single head, but 
 this devotion was intensified by the burning sense of a common 
 wrong, by the realization of the majestic patience with which that
 
 122 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 wrong had been borne, and by the keenness of pity, admiration 
 and sympathy blent into one whole of passionate feeling. 
 
 Moreover, it is the prerogative of an imaginative nature to 
 heighten feeling. "Where the commonplace mind sees only facts, 
 the imaginative sees motives, thoughts, emotions a whole world 
 of possible mental action. So it was that Irene, in dwelling on 
 the magnitude of the wrong that had been done to her mother, 
 saw not only the wrong itself, but all that flowed from it the 
 long martyrdom of heart and pride, borne with heroic silence, 
 but ending only in the peace of death. It is hardly too much to 
 say that every pang which the mother had suffered, the daughter 
 lived over again through the intense sympathy that is like intui- 
 tion. She knew her mother so well all her delicate pride, her 
 inborn reserve, her exquisite fastidiousness : she felt as if it were 
 branded on her comprehension with fire all that it must have been 
 to such a nature to undergo the ordeal through which it had 
 passed. And this was the end. The cloud had never lifted, the 
 wrong had never been redressed, nor had Heaven smitten the 
 wrong-doer with any punishment visible to men. 
 
 Poor Irene! Over heaven itself just then a dark pall seemed 
 to be drawn. Is it not often so with grief? Strong indeed 
 must be the divine light of faith in souls that, when sorely smitten, 
 cry not out to God that it is ill-done. Few are those who in such 
 an hour can say with holy Job in the sublimest words ever ut- 
 tered by grief: "The Lord gave; the Lord hath taken away: 
 blessed be the name of the Lord." Certainly snch devout sub- 
 mission was far from the poor child who in her mother had lost her 
 all the sole vessel in which she had garnered up the treasures of 
 her heart. At first she seemed smitten into dumb despair ; but 
 there came an hour when despair found a voice. It was the 
 night before Madame Lescar's funeral the last of Irene's old 
 life, for on the next day she was not to return to the apartment 
 on the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, but to go home with Mrs. 
 Falconer. That tight all her partial composure gave way, and 
 the flood-gates of grief were opened. When she was at last taken 
 almost forcibly from the coffin where the fair, serene face lay 
 sleeping with the blessed candles throwing their light down upon 
 it, they hoped that from exhaustion she might sleep ; but it proved
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 123 
 
 a vain hope. She began to pace the floor of her chamber, talking 
 the while, half to herself, half to Mrs. Falconer, who sat by the 
 fire watching the slender figure, as it passed to and fro across the 
 dim, half-lighted room. 
 
 "It seems so strange that I should be alive!" the piteous 
 voice was saying. "I always thought that, when the blow fell, it 
 would kill me ; but I am strong, I am well, while my mother, my 
 dearest, my best-beloved ah, what do I say ? my only beloved, 
 is lying dead ! Great God, what am I made of that I can see it 
 and know it and endure it, and live! " Then, presently, after a 
 pause : " Do you know of what I think when I look at her dead 
 face ? It is the long-suffering of her life. You will say that it is 
 over now and I know that it is. But it was and it has killed 
 her ! She bore it with the patience of a saint ; but it has killed 
 her all the same. And do you know that I promised her to try 
 to forgive ? But I can not oh, I can not ! It is useless to try ! 
 When I remember all that she endured, and the cruel wrong 
 which blasted her life, I can find no prayer but ' May God requite 
 him ! may God return to him every pang ! ' " 
 
 " Irene ! " said Mrs. Falconer, startled more by the passion of 
 the tone than even hy the words, " my dear child, remember 
 yourself! Remember how such feeling would grieve the mother 
 whom you love so devotedly. For her sake" 
 
 "It is for her sake that I feel it ! " the passionate voice went 
 on. "Do you think that for myself it would matter? Oh, you 
 do not know how it is for her I have felt it all! He might have 
 done everything that he has done to me taken away my birth- 
 right, denied me a name, left me to the charity of the world and 
 I should only have turned from the thought of him with scorn. 
 But it was on her that his cruelty and his baseness fell. It was 
 that pure and noble soul which felt the weight of his iron hand 
 it was that gentle heart which he made to taste the bitterness of 
 death ! Do you wonder " she flung her arms upward in a gest- 
 ure unconsciously tragical " that, when I heard it, I consecrated 
 my life to a single purpose the purpose hy some way, some 
 means, to make him suffer a part at least of what he had in- 
 flicted? It seems wild it seems mad to you, no doubt but I 
 have never doubted my power to do so. He is great and magnifi-
 
 12 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 cent in the world, and I am poor and obscure, but I feel as if the 
 strength of a thousand was in my veins when I think of finding a 
 shaft that shall pierce even his armor of selfishness. I have said 
 to myself a hundred times, ' If I live, it shall be for that end 
 alone 1 ' And now she has asked me with her dying breath to for- 
 give him! O my mother, how can I? how can I? You for- 
 get that I am Ms daughter not an angel like you ! " 
 
 So the wild storm went on, and as Mrs. Falconer listened 
 moved with the deepest compassion, yet appalled by the revela- 
 tion of resentment like a flaming sword she felt that it was no 
 ordinary strength of nature, whether for good or for evil, which 
 was here, and that, if ever the good triumphed over the evil, it 
 would be in no easy fight. An instinct told her that it was fore- 
 seeing this which made the mother exact the promise she had 
 carried with her into eternity. The anguish of conflict was upon 
 the untried spirit now a strange contrast to the ineffable peace 
 that was on the pale, beautiful face lying in its coffin so near at 
 hand and it would be long before the scale turned for victory or 
 defeat. Surely, thought the spectator, it was a singular fate 
 which had thus made of two parents the embodiments of evil and 
 of good on the battle-ground of a soul. Would the influence of 
 the mother wane as time went on, the sense of wrong deepen, 
 grow more bitter and corrode the spirit, as it is the nature of 
 wrong to do, unless the soul is great enough to rise above it ? 
 Who could tell? Only the sweet, triumphant smile, which still 
 lingered on the lips of the dead, seemed to answer. 
 
 It was on the softest and saddest of autumn days that the fu- 
 neral took place, and it seemed to Stanhope that over no soul 
 whicli had more truly triumphed was the solemn requiem of the 
 Church ever said. Some such thought came to her daughter also 
 a faint gleam of spiritual radiance through the dense cloud of 
 sorrow as she knelt in the dim church, and heard the tones from 
 the altar like a remembered dream. What memory was it that 
 stirred even at this moment? The hour in the Chapelle Expia- 
 toire, when by the statue of the murdered queen she had realized 
 some things which returned to her now the brevity of earthly 
 splendor, the enduring value of the merits that lie hidden in suf- 
 fering. Who had more fully made those merits her own, than
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 125 
 
 Bhe whose soul had now gone forth to meet its reward? "And 
 would you lessen that reward if you could, O you of little faith ? " 
 an inward voice said. It was a lull in the storm, a moment of 
 peace sweet but transient ; for beyond the sanctuary the battle 
 was yet to be fought. Life would be too easy, heaven too lightly 
 gained, if the victor's crown could be won by a single struggle. 
 In that battle the heart's best blood must be drained, the wearied 
 soul must stand to its arms again and yet again ; there will be 
 many an apparent truce, and perhaps many a sore defeat, before 
 the end which sometimes seems so far is won at last. 
 
 On the height of Montmartre they laid her to rest, who had 
 deserved to sleep in soil made sacred by the blood of martyrs a 
 peaceful height, where the dead lie with folded hands, while 
 below imperial Paris flashes back the sunlight from her myriad 
 roofs and spires, exults in her multitudinous life, and breaks now 
 and then into wild tumult that rocks the world, but never stirs 
 the calm sleepers on her encircling hills. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THAT hour " between the lights," which is charming almost 
 everywhere, was particularly pleasant in Mrs. Falconer's boudoir 
 toward the close of a gray day of mist and rain a fortnight after 
 Madame Lescar's death. Outside the windows low clouds were 
 shortening the already short day, but within all was warmth, 
 fragrance, brightness, the leaping blaze of a wood-fire falling on 
 the softly mingled tints of the silken hangings, on golden em- 
 broidery, on the beautiful color of masses of flowers here and 
 there. The mirrors in their gleaming crystal frames repeated the 
 scene and made a picture of it. They also reflected the figures of 
 a lady and gentleman who sat near the fire the lady leaning 
 back in a low chair with the light playing over the graceful lines 
 of her form, the sheen of her satin dress, the sparkling jewels on 
 the white hand that held a screen between her face and the blaze. 
 They had been talking for several minutes and she now said, 
 meditatively, "The question is, what will be the best thing to do 
 with her?"
 
 126 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 To which the gentleman answered : " I do not see the neces- 
 sity to do anything unless you find the charge more than you 
 care to undertake. That might reasonably be ; but " 
 
 "But you know it is not so," she answered. "No what I 
 mean is that I think it would be a good thing if she were taken 
 out of Paris. Grief must have its own way, of course, wherever 
 she is but here, perhaps, worse than elsewhere." 
 
 " But how is she to be taken out of Paris? " asked he, a little 
 startled. " I should be very glad to do that or anything else for 
 her; but you know Mrs. Grundy would have something to say " 
 
 "You are stupid to-day," said the lady. "It seems to me 
 plain that when I say she ought to be taken out of Paris, I mean 
 that / will take her." 
 
 "Oh, but I can not consent to that," he said. "For you to 
 leave Paris, your amusements, your friends, your delightful quar- 
 ters it is impossible ! " 
 
 "It is not at all impossible," she replied, serenely. " And it is 
 not a very great sacrifice, either, for Paris is dull in winter. I 
 have thought of going to Italy for some time, and Lady Falconer 
 is urging me to take a villa at Nice. But I do not think that Nice 
 would be the place for Irene." 
 
 "It would be the place for Lady Falconer," said Stanhope. 
 "She would find it very convenient, if you were established 
 there, to be your guest for the winter." 
 
 " And I should be very glad for her to be," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 " The question, however, is about Irene." 
 
 "You are very good not to say that I am bad-tempered as 
 well as stupid to-day," he observed, smiling. "After all, I am 
 afraid Lady Falconer is right that Irene will be an embarrassing 
 charge to you. Already the consideration of her interferes with 
 your plans for the winter. But for her, you would go to Nice 
 with Lady Falconer, and luxuriate in all its warmth and brilliance 
 and social gayety." 
 
 "Perhaps so," she said. "But surely it is better to do a little 
 good if one can, than to enjoy a winter in Nice. And my oppor- 
 tunities for being of use are so few ! I can give money but 
 money is nothing when the giving entails no personal sacrifice. 
 I never could see that there was much merit in presenting part of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 127 
 
 one's abundance to charity. However, what I want to say is 
 this: of course, I could go to Nice, taking Irene with me, but 
 it seems to me that, of all places to jar on a wounded spirit, that 
 would be the worst ; whereas, of all places to heal such a spirit, 
 am I not right in thinking that Rome is best? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " you are right. And are you going to 
 Kome?" 
 
 " I am thinking of it. I should like to go myself I have 
 never been there but once, and that not for long and I believe it 
 would be the place for Irene. If you agree with me, we may 
 regard the matter as settled." 
 
 "I certainly agree with you." He paused before adding: 
 " And I should like to say how much I feel your kindness to this 
 poor girl. We have been friends a long time, so I suppose I may 
 tell you that it has made me admire you more than ever." 
 
 " It seems to me a very simple thing," she replied though she 
 blushed a little " and that it should seem to you at all a remark- 
 able one only proves what a selfish world this is." 
 
 "It is certainly a very selfish world," he answered. "Here 
 is Lady Falconer, for example, who considers you " 
 
 "In plain language, a fool," she said, with a laugh. " Accord- 
 ing to her code and she means no harm by it, either I should 
 be thinking only of amusement, and social power, and admiration. 
 Don't misunderstand me," she added, hastily. " Don't for a mo- 
 ment imagine that I do not think of these things ! I think of 
 them I am afraid I like them far too much ; but still I have a 
 little time for other things besides." 
 
 " Who knows that better than I ? " he asked. " You have 
 time to cultivate your intellect and to listen to your heart. For 
 the rest, that you are an ambitious woman I always knew." 
 
 " You mean that you always said. There is a difference." 
 
 " Do you mean that you are not ? " 
 
 "I? Oh, BO! I have not the presumption to believe that I 
 can read my own character as well as you can read it." 
 
 " I am inclined to believe that you have the presumption to 
 be laughing at me," replied he. " But you dare not say that you 
 are not an ambitious woman. " 
 
 She did not answer for a moment. The hand which held the
 
 123 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 screen had dropped into her lap, and the firelight played over her 
 face, over the fair, rounded cheeks, the soft, well-cut mouth, the 
 deep violet eyes that were full of thoughtfulness. 
 
 "Long ago," she said, "when I was a child hefore my uncle 
 sent for me, or life in any remarkable manner opened before me 
 I never dreamed of any ordinary fate for myself, of settling con- 
 tentedly to the course of existence which I saw all around me : I 
 always imagined wider flight, brilliant opportunities, some vague, 
 exalted destiny in store for me. How far these fancies shaped 
 my life I do not know ; nor yet how far they constitute me an 
 ambitious woman by nature. I only know that I dream no more 
 of them now." 
 
 " There is no need to dream any more," he replied. " Dreams 
 give place to realities ; and the realities are yours in the fullest 
 sense. The wider flight has been taken, the brilliant opportuni- 
 ties are in your hand, the exalted destiny is within your reach if 
 you are only wise in your choice." 
 
 There must have been more significance than he intended in 
 his tone, for she looked at him quickly. 
 
 " Why do you say that? " she asked. " What choice do you 
 suppose I am thinking of making? " 
 
 "None immediately," he replied. "But in time you will 
 make one, and I should like it to be wise as well as brilliant." 
 
 " And you probably distrust the judgment of such a worldly 
 woman," said she, with a smile which he did not quite under- 
 stand. " Eh bien, I will promise to consult you when the time 
 arrives. And now tell me, if we go to Rome, is there any proba- 
 bility of seeing you there ? " 
 
 "I am afraid there will be every probability, if you go," he 
 answered. " I am such an inveterate wanderer that one place is 
 much the same as another to me ; and if I miss my corner in your 
 salon, Paris will be dull to me indeed." 
 
 "Can Paris ever be dull to you?" she asked. "I do not be- 
 lieve it." 
 
 "Not absolutely, perhaps, but relatively," he replied. " And 
 when I said all places are alike to me, I should have excepted 
 Rome, for which I have a passion that grows insistent now and 
 then in its demands. Yes, I shall be glad to go there ; I shall be
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 129 
 
 glad to see the yellow houses and the narrow streets, the great 
 sweep of the Campagna, and the sun setting behind the dome of 
 St. Peter's from the Pincian Hill." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you talk so," she said, in a tone of satisfac- 
 tion, " for how pleasant it will be to have you there as one's 
 guide and cicerone! And now, the matter being arranged, I will 
 go and send Irene to you." 
 
 He could not refuse to allow her to do so, though in his inmost 
 soul he knew that he dreaded the interview. He had not seen 
 the girl for several days, and when he saw her last she had not 
 been able to control herself, and her passionate grief had moved 
 him to that poignant, unavailing pity which is too painful to be 
 willingly renewed. He had realized then very forcibly his deep 
 indebtedness to Mrs. Falconer for, in the midst of his pity it had 
 occurred to him to wonder what he would have done had such a 
 charge been left upon his hands alone ! 
 
 But when she entered, a few minutes later, he saw that he had 
 not to fear the repetition of such a scene. She was very pale so 
 pale that the young face looked more as if carved out of mar- 
 ble than made of flesh and the deep mournfulness of her eyes 
 was like a revelation of grief; but her manner was composed, 
 though sad. He was more than ever struck with her like- 
 ness to her mother as she crossed the room in her sweeping 
 black draperies and held out a cold little hand to him. He 
 drew her to the fire, and made her sit down in one of the 
 luxurious chairs ; and, after a moment, it was she who began to 
 speak. 
 
 "It is very good of you to come to see me," she said ; " and I 
 will not distress you again as I did the last time. Whatever one 
 suffers, it is very weak not to control one's self. I felt that after 
 you were gone." 
 
 "Believe me," he answered, gently, " I was only distressed for 
 your sake, and also because I felt deeply with you. That, I am 
 sure, you know." 
 
 "Yes," she said. "I have not been blind or deaf. I know 
 all that you have done all that you have undertaken to do. I 
 am very grateful for the first ; and for the last I can only promise 
 that I will give you as little trouble as possible."
 
 130 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 The simplicity and humility of these words touched him ex- 
 ceedingly. 
 
 "My dear child," he said, "I beg that you will never men- 
 tion that word again. I accepted willingly " (at the moment he 
 thought that he had!) "the trust which your mother gave me; 
 and it involves nothing which merits the name of trouble. Since 
 I sent you a copy of her will, you know exactly the position in 
 which she has left you." 
 
 " Yes," she replied, sadly but quietly, " and every direction she 
 has given, every wish she has expressed, I will follow." 
 
 " Then you see my office is as light as possible. I have really 
 little to do besides looking after your business affairs and paying 
 over your income. "With regard to your home which it is for me 
 to appoint until your majority you are aware that Mrs. Falconer 
 has offered you a home with her, and that your mother sanctioned 
 and approved of the arrangement." 
 
 "Yes," she said again. "Mrs. Falconer told me, and she is so 
 kind that I have been glad to be with her for a time. But, as I 
 begin to rouse myself and look the world in the face, it seems to 
 me that, since I have no claim upon her, such kindness is greater 
 than I ought to accept than ought to be permitted." 
 
 "But you have just said that you will fulfill your mother's 
 wishes," he answered, " and this was most especially her wish. I 
 have seldom seen her so moved as when I told her that Mrs. Fal- 
 coner would take charge of you." 
 
 " That was because she thought of me" said the girl, with the 
 same quiet sadness. " But I should try to think of others should 
 not I ? And, although Mrs. Falconer is kindness itself, I feel that 
 I have no right to burden her with my sorrow." 
 
 " Mrs. Falconer does not consider it a burden," he replied. 
 " She is already much attached to you, and she has long desired 
 such a companion as you will prove. But that is not the point," 
 he added, hastily, as he saw her about to speak. " It is that the 
 arrangement was made by your mother herself; and she declared 
 that it lifted from her mind her heaviest anxiety with regard to 
 your future. If you broke it, therefore, you would be undoing 
 her work." 
 
 "I would never do that," said the girl, in a low voice. "I
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 131 
 
 only felt as if I ought to think of others. But even if she had 
 made no such arrangement, I should suhmit to your decision; 
 for that is what she desired, and it is all I can do for her now." 
 
 " I am sure," he said, "that after a little while you will recog- 
 nize, what I do now, that nothing better could possibly be de- 
 sired for you." 
 
 She did not answer. It was evident that she felt little inter- 
 est in tbe matter; and so for an instant there was a pause, during 
 which Stanhope observed with compassion the forlorn aspect of 
 her face, and the already wasted outlines of the figure that in its 
 severe mourning made a strange contrast to the delicate luxury 
 all around it. 
 
 " You look badly," he said at last, in a tone so kind that it re- 
 deemed the words from abruptness. "I am afraid that you are 
 ill. Is there nothing that I can do for you ? " 
 
 She shook her head with a hopeless gesture. " I am not ill," 
 she answered ; " and there is nothing you or any one else can do 
 for me. I look badly because I can neither eat nor sleep ; but 
 perhaps I may get over that after a while." Then she looked at 
 him wistfully. " I am trying to realize that this is to go on that 
 I must live without her," she said ; " and it is hard to do. It seems 
 so useless. What is my life worth to me or any one else ? I 
 had only one thing on earth, and I have lost that." 
 
 "Poor child!" he said, half under his breath. It did not 
 need her words to make him understand the peculiar desolation of 
 her position, yet they seemed to move him with a fresh sense of 
 it, and he felt unable to point out the manifest truth that life 
 might yet have other meaning and other duties for her. He had 
 too keen a comprehension of what she was suffering to hint even 
 remotely of the inevitable hour of comfort. After a moment it 
 was she who spoke again. 
 
 " Perhaps it is wrong to feel in this way ; hut, you see, I am 
 like a child that misses its mother's hand in the dark " Her 
 lip quivered piteously for a moment ; then, controlling herself with 
 an effort, she went on : " But I promised not to distress you, and 
 I am afraid that I have. You must forgive me. I will do better 
 when you come again." 
 
 "There is no need to do better," he answered. "You have
 
 132 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 been as brave as I knew you could be. A great grief unnerves 
 the strongest. And I fear that your days have been long and 
 dreary. Have you seen no one but Mrs. Falconer ? " 
 
 " No one except Mrs. Vance, who has been very kind." 
 
 "Then you have not joined tbe household at all? " 
 
 " No. Mrs. Falconer begged me not to do so if it would be 
 an effort ; and I was glad to be spared meeting any one." 
 
 "Of course, I would not counsel your meeting her guests," 
 said Stanhope, after a short pause, " but, when she has only her 
 usual circle, I think it would be well for you to join it. If you 
 are to make one of her household, it is better to fall into your 
 place ; and the longer absolute seclusion is maintained, the harder 
 it will be to end it." 
 
 He saw that she shrank from the counsel which it had cost 
 him an effort to offer; but presently she looked up with pa- 
 thetic acquiescence. 
 
 "No doubt you are right," she said. "It is difficult not to bo 
 selfish when one is sorrowful. And, after all, it does not matter. 
 Nothing seems to matter now." 
 
 It was with those words in his ears that he took leave, carry- 
 ing the memory of the pale young face with him out into the 
 rushing world of the Paris streets. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THERE was one person, at least, who welcomed the intelli- 
 gence of Irene's transfer to Mrs. Falconer's protection with senti- 
 ments of the most sincere gratification. This was Lionel Erne, 
 who, being familiar as a brother, or the traditional tame cat, in 
 Mrs. Falconer's house, naturally felt that the advantages of this 
 familiarity would not be lessened by the presence of Mademoi- 
 selle Lescar therein. Indeed, it is to be feared that his state of 
 feeling, during the fortnight following Madame Lescar's death, 
 was rather more elated than became one who had expressed so 
 much devotion for that lady. He haunted the apartment in the 
 Avenue Montaigne, and, as day followed day without the ap-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 133 
 
 pearance of Irene, his impatience made him very much of a nui- 
 sance to Mrs. Falconer* 
 
 It commended him, however, to the interest and good graces 
 of Lady Falconer, who, reading the situation with a glance, 
 leaped at once to the most practical conclusion. " The thing 
 settles itself perfectly," she said to her sister-in-law. " This 
 young man who is very clever, and no doubt eligible is plainly 
 in love with your interesting protegee, and you have really noth- 
 ing to do but arrange the marriage and so relieve yourself in a 
 satisfactory manner of a responsibility which you should never 
 have assumed." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer laughed. To her, as we are aware, such a 
 plan had already suggested itself, but she did not feel inclined to 
 take this lively lady into her confidence. "The matter," she 
 said, " is not quite so simple as it appears to you. In the first 
 place, you have not yet seen my ' interesting protegee,' 1 whom I 
 think you will admit, when you do see her, is not exactly a per- 
 son to be married off-hand even to the most clever and eligible 
 parti. In the second place, Mr. Stanhope, who is her guardian, 
 would have a word to say on the subject. And in the third place, 
 I am by no means certain that the idea of matrimony has ever 
 suggested itself to Lionel. His fancy is easily attracted, and he 
 raves over one woman after another that is all." 
 
 "But it need not remain all," said Lady Falconer, who did 
 not surrender an idea easily when once it had entered her head. 
 " A woman as clever as you are, my dear, could easily bring the 
 matter about. You have the two people concerned under your 
 roof for I am sure Mr. Erne spends most of his time under it 
 and in your hand." 
 
 " Because they are under my roof, it does not follow that they 
 are in my hand," answered Mrs. Falconer. "And, as I have 
 said, Irene is intrusted to me by Mr. Stanhope " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Stanhope! " said her ladyship, in a tone which did 
 not imply a very complimentary opinion of that gentleman. " It 
 will be easy to make Mm agree to anything you choose." 
 
 "Do you think so?" said Mrs. Falconer, with an air of 
 amusement. " I should never have imagined that any one could 
 give Mr. Stanhope that character."
 
 134: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "It would depend, of course, on who attempted to make him 
 agree," said the other. " I could not do so. But I am sure that 
 you could, if you cared to try." 
 
 "It is fortunate," said Mrs. Falconer, with another laugh, 
 " that I do not care to try ; for, if I did, I should certainly find 
 that I had no such power." 
 
 Lady Falconer lifted her eyebrows, but, heyond this mute 
 expression of opinion, made no rejoinder. She had in her own 
 mind conceived very clearly the reason why Stanhope declined 
 to assist in arranging a marriage between Mrs. Falconer and the 
 Marquis de Chateaumesnil, but, being in doubt how far her knowl- 
 edge was shared by her sister-in-law, she had decided to be reti- 
 cent at least for the present. 
 
 It was soon after this conversation that Irene, in accordance 
 with Stanhope's advice, emerged from her seclusion to face the 
 new life in which she was to play a part altogether strange to 
 her. After Erne, the person most gratified by her appearance 
 was Lady Falconer, who had a strong curiosity to see one 
 around whom so much romantic interest clustered. " Though, no 
 doubt, I shall be very much disappointed," she said to herself. 
 "One always is when one looks for anything remarkable." It 
 was, therefore, with something like a shock of surprise that she 
 found her curiosity more justified than she had imagined possible. 
 Her practiced glance at once appreciated all the beauty, all the 
 distinctive charm of the girl and, so appreciating, she failed 
 more than ever to understand Mrs. Falconer's action and motive. 
 "What can she mean? " thought the woman of the world, sweep- 
 ing aside as altogether unworthy of attention those considerations 
 of old friendship which Stanhope had suggested. "As Prince 
 Waldegrave's daughter, this girl would be a brilliant success; but, 
 as Mademoiselle Lescar, she can only excite curious attention. 
 "What is Sydney thinking of? It seems a caprice without reason 
 unless Mr. Stanhope's connection with the matter gives it a rea- 
 son. Why have I been so blind as not to suspect him before ? " 
 Then followed the reflection, " And why was I so utterly ~bete as 
 to lay open my plan to him ? " 
 
 Meanwhile, it may be imagined that to Irene the scrutiny 
 which judged her was not only unheeded, but wholly unobserved.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 135 
 
 She was not even conscious of the keen glances of Lady Falconer's 
 bright blue eyes. Deep grief is like a thick veil drawn between 
 the senses and the outer world. We know that the things of life 
 are going on, but the sound of them comes to dull ears, and for 
 the time we wear an armor of indifference which no shaft can 
 pierce. So it was with the girl who sat in Mrs. Falconer's draw- 
 ing-room, and heard the flow of light talk and laughter around 
 her feeling, the while, as if divided from the talkers by an im- 
 measurable gulf of distance. Erne recognized this the first time 
 that he took her hand for, whatever else he lacked, he did not 
 lack quickness of perception. All the woful change in her struck 
 him as it had already struck Stanhope. The radiance, like light 
 shining through alabaster, the lustrous eyes, the flashing smiles 
 of the face he saw last were gone. It was a poor, faint smile into 
 which the lips strove to fashion themselves to greet him, and the 
 eyes seemed to have wept away all their luster. Not all their 
 beauty, however, nor yet their kindness. They were full of the 
 last as she rose to meet him, and stood a slight figure in deepest 
 black against the rich beauty of the long salon. 
 
 " I am not sorry to see you," she said, with wistful gentleness, 
 " and, if that does not sound very cordial, you must forgive it, 
 since there is not any one to whom I could say more, and few to 
 whom I could say as much. But you knew my dear mother 
 you loved I am sure you have regretted her. There are so few " 
 with a catching of the breath that narrowly escaped being a 
 sob " who have done so, that my heart goes out to all who have 
 been in any degree companions in my grief." 
 
 "I do not think," the young man answered in a low voice, 
 " that any one could have felt more sorrow for her more sym- 
 pathy for you than I have." 
 
 This was certainly a bold assertion, but the boldness had its 
 reward, for Irene thanked bun by a look which thrilled him with 
 many sensations the pity which is akin to tenderness among 
 them, and the sense that their friendship had made a great stride. 
 He knew that the girl's devotion to her mother represented all 
 the ardor of her nature it was the first thing that he had learned 
 about her, the first message that her voice brought him ; and he 
 felt that, even in the remotest association with her grief, he had
 
 136 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 gained much. It was a bond of sympathy that time could not 
 lessen. 
 
 With a fine instinct, he did not eay more to her, but went 
 up to Mrs. Falconer, who greeted him with unusual gravity, 
 though a smile hovered round the corners of her lips. " I have 
 something to tell you that I fear will be a shock to you," she 
 said presently. 
 
 " What ? " he asked, in sudden consternation. His heart sank 
 he hardly knew what he feared, but he was filled with appre- 
 hension that was not reassured even by the lurking smile. He 
 knew that people sometimes find food for amusement in matters 
 that are serious enough to others. 
 
 " It is nothing very alarming," she answered, " only I am 
 afraid it will interfere a little with your plans for the winter. I 
 am sure you would have given us a good many of your spare 
 hours and you know that I am always glad to see you but, 
 unfortunately, I am going to leave Paris." 
 
 He did not observe her raillery : the fact overwhelmed him. 
 " Leave Paris ! " he ejaculated. " When ? and for how long? " 
 
 " I have hardly thought of when," she replied, " but I suppose 
 in a few weeks as soon as I can make the necessary arrange- 
 ments. As for how long well, for the whiter, certainly." 
 
 " And does Mademoiselle Lescar go with you? " 
 
 " Naturally. She is one of my household now." 
 
 " What does it mean ? " he asked, with a blending of surprise 
 and injury. "Why can you not be satisfied? Why are you 
 going to run away as soon as soon, almost, as you are settled ? " 
 
 " It is very flattering that you should feel my departure so 
 much," she said with a laugh. " But, you see, Paris ia very dis- 
 agreeable in winter. I made up my mind last year that I would 
 not endure it again. Sc I am going to Italy." 
 
 " To Italy ! " he repeated expression both of face and tone 
 changing like magic. "What a capital idea! It is just what I 
 was what I am thinking of myself." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said she, with a strong flavor of incredulity in the 
 expression. " And may I ask to what part of Italy you are 
 going ? " 
 
 " I really have not thought at all," he answered, cheerfully.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 137 
 
 " I am quite ready to go anywhere. I should be delighted if you 
 would make me useful and let me be your escort." 
 
 "No doubt," she replied. "But there are one or two trifling 
 objections to that. I understand of exactly how old a date your 
 resolution of going to Italy is ; so, at the risk of appearing rude, 
 I must beg that you will remain in Paris and devote yourself, if 
 you like, to Yiolet Dysart." 
 
 "But Miss Dysart is going to Italy she told me so last 
 night," returned he, smiling. "Oh, on my honor, I assure you! 
 She is going to Nice with the Baroness Bodenbach." 
 
 "Nice is in France." 
 
 "A geographical (or, rather, a political) fiction. Nice is as 
 much in Italy as Naples is. I presume, however, from the cor- 
 rection, that you are not going there ? " 
 
 " No I am going to Eome." 
 
 " If I were a school-boy, I would clap my hands! Indeed, the 
 gravity of age would not deter me, but the fear of shocking 
 Mademoiselle Lescar does. My dear cousin, you have had the 
 happiest inspiration! I have long determined to spend the win- 
 ter in Kome a few months' study in those galleries will be of 
 infinite service to me and I shall be charmed to be there with 
 you." 
 
 " Come, Lionel, this is nonsense ! " said she, laughing in spite 
 of herself. " You must see that I can not allow any such thing." 
 
 " But this is absurdity ! " said he. " What right have you to 
 say whether or not I shall go to Rome to pursue my study of 
 art? And if it chances that you are there " 
 
 " It will be no chance at all," she said, more gravely. "You 
 know that you never thought of going until you heard that we 
 were to be there. Of course, if it had been an honest chance, I 
 should have been glad ; but as it is You see, I am responsible 
 about Irene, and Mr. Stanhope might think that it was some 
 plan." 
 
 "Mr. Stanhope! " said the young man, in much the same tone 
 that Lady Falconer had used. " Who cares anything about Mr. 
 Stanhope? And what plan could there be? Do you think I 
 want to devour Mademoiselle Lescar? " 
 
 "Not exactly only, perhaps, to make love to her," answered
 
 138 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer, with a smile. But, as the words were uttered, she 
 was surprised by the change that came over his face. The laugh- 
 ter died out of it he seemed to shrink, almost as a girl might 
 have shrank. 
 
 " I don't think," he said, "that you understand at all how she 
 affects me. It is not in that way. The mere term ' make love 
 seems like desecration, applied to her." 
 
 "Indeed!" replied Mrs. Falconer. "I knew that you had 
 poetical ideas about her, hut I was not aware that you regarded 
 her as so ethereal. I presume, that this is the aesthetic mode of 
 showing admiration." 
 
 "There is nothing easier than to laugh at aesthetics," he 
 answered, flushing a little. " But we who believe in it have some 
 subtile perceptions and pleasures which atone to us for all ridicule. 
 I suppose I can hardly make you comprehend my feeling for Ma- 
 demoiselle Lescar " 
 
 "I am afraid, indeed, it is too subtile," said she. 
 
 "But," he went on, "the charm she has for me is not in the 
 least like the charm of other women. I can make love oh, yes, 
 by the hour to Violet Dysart. But to her I can only offer such 
 silent homage as Dante offered to Beatrice. You remember that 
 his love, so fruitful in words on paper, was speechless toward its 
 object." 
 
 " It is something I never expected of you," said his cousin, with 
 an irrepressible laugh. " However, if you will promise that your 
 homage shall continue silent, perhaps I may allow you to pursue 
 your studies in Rome this winter. It is very convenient to have 
 a man at one's command, whom one can call upon for service 
 without any fear of misapprehension. I confess that I shall be 
 very sorry when you go back to America." 
 
 " I have not gone yet," said he, lightly; " nor do I see any reason 
 why I should go. But I will make my preparations for Rome ; 
 and I repeat that it is a happy inspiration on your part."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 TITEBE is room for much difference of opinion on the same 
 subject. Lady Falconer did not think it at all a happy inspiration 
 on the part of her sister-in-law to go to Rome. To her it was, 
 on the contrary, a very irritating proceeding and one which 
 deepened her conviction that some malign influence was opposed 
 to her wishes. More and more her suspicion turned toward 
 Stanhope. It was for the sake of Irene that, instead of going to 
 sunny, hrilliant Nice, Mrs. Falconer was about to convey her 
 household gods to the Eternal City, where Lady Falconer did not 
 care to go, finding it dull, and having that dread of the Roman 
 climate which many foreigners feel. But, if she had spoken her 
 thoughts plainly, she would have said that, although the folly of 
 this was great enough, it was not the worst point in the affair. 
 The worst point was that, by means of such a link of interest and 
 association as he had created (so she believed), Stanhope, no 
 doubt, was planning to increase his intimacy and influence with 
 Mrs. Falconer, for an ulterior purpose easily to be conjectured. 
 " If the matter goes on as it is going now," she thought, judging 
 as nine people out of ten in her position would have judged, "it 
 will end by Sydney's throwing away all her opportunities in life. 
 "What is the best thing for me to do ? Shall I speak to Armand ? 
 But there would be little good in urging him forward until I have 
 sounded her. I am afraid that it will not be easy; but I must 
 attempt it." 
 
 Braced in this way by a sense of duty, she proceeded cautiously 
 to make her soundings. As she had anticipated, it did not prove 
 an easy task. Mrs. Falconer was either serenely unconscious, or 
 determined to appear so ; and Lady Falconer was driven to speak 
 more plainly than she liked or desired, before eliciting anything 
 satisfactory. Then it only merited that term from being at least 
 decided. 
 
 " I wish," said Mrs. Falconer, "that I could induce you as well 
 as other people to believe that I have no intention of marrying. 
 There is not a man in the world who could give me anything I 
 want, while any one of them would take from me what I adore 
 my liberty."
 
 140 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 She looked very spirited and lovely as she uttered these words ; 
 "but the woman who heard them shook her head. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " if you will pardon my plain speaking, 
 that is purely and simply nonsense ! Have I lost my liberty be- 
 cause Sir George is nominally my lord and master ? I do very 
 much as I please, except in so far as I am trammeled by circum- 
 stances and duty. We are nil trammeled in that way. Who has 
 absolute liberty ? " 
 
 " I have," said Mrs. Falconer. " There is nobody to say to 
 me nay, if I choose to start to-morrow for the north pole." 
 
 " But you don't choose to start," said the other, practically. 
 " Therefore, what is the good of your liberty ? It is a visionary 
 thing, for the sake of which you are risking the loss of substantial 
 things." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer laughed and shook her head. They had been 
 over this ground before, and she knew, or thought she knew, 
 exactly what she had to hear. She nestled with an air of resig- 
 nation deeper into the silken cushions of her chair, as she an- 
 swered : 
 
 "And what are the substantial things that in your opinion 
 outweigh my visionary liberty ? If it is social rank I have 
 enough to satisfy me. If it is fortune I have more than enough. 
 My money is absolutely a weight upon my conscience. I wish I 
 could give half of it away." 
 
 " That is quite possible," said Lady Falconer ; and, as she spoke, 
 ehe thought of the heavily encumbered acres and the noble old 
 chateau of the Marquis de Chateaumesnil. "What a stream of 
 prosperity this great American fortune could pour over those 
 lands, into those ancient walls ! Surely it was worth a struggle 
 and so thinking, she nerved herself to make it. 
 
 " It is very easy to give away money," she went on ; " but to 
 give it away judiciously that is not so easy. Your fortune is a 
 great responsibility I do not wonder that you recognize it but 
 there is the more reason that you should use it wisely. It would 
 enable you to make a great marriage, to take a position in the 
 world that I do not flatter you when I say you are fitted to take ; 
 and at the same time you might do much good you might give 
 aim to a life you might aid a career ''
 
 HEART OF STEEL. Ul 
 
 There she paused. After all, she had no right to speak for the 
 Marquis, and she remembered this in time. But her last words 
 had surprised and interested Mrs. Falconer. Of the great mar- 
 riage, the higher position, she had heard before, and her hand 
 had been carelessly stroking a little dog that lay in her lap while 
 Lady Falconer spoke of these desirable things ; but the slender 
 white fingers paused in their motion, and she looked up with evi- 
 dently roused attention at the words " give aim to a life aid a 
 career " that was something new. 
 
 " May I ask," she said, " what you mean ? To whose life 
 might I give an aim ? whose career might I aid ? I confess I 
 do not understand." 
 
 Then Lady Falconer was driven to explain. " I was wrong, 
 perhaps, to express myself so plainly," she said; "but I was 
 thinking of my cousin the Marquis de Chateaumesnil. Sydney, 
 I should be happy if I could see you married to him ! " 
 
 " Should you ? " said Sydney, smiling perhaps at the fervor 
 of the other's tone. " But your happiness might be gained at the 
 expense of mine not to speak of that of the Marquis. Though, 
 to do him justice, I have never seen in him the least indication of 
 such a desire as that at which you hint." 
 
 " I can not imagine any one more fitted to make you happy," 
 said Lady Falconer, waiving the last remark. "And you might 
 not only make him happy, but aid his life stimulate his powers 
 make him, perhaps, all that he should be." 
 
 "You are prudent to qualify your prophecy with a ' perhaps,' " 
 said Mrs. Falconer. " I can not imagine anything more unlikely 
 than that I should have any power to influence a man of his char- 
 acter. Of that character," she continued, more gravely, "I do 
 not care to speak. He has never made it necessary I hope that 
 he will never make it necessary that I should do so. But, since 
 you have spoken of the subject, you will pardon me for saying 
 frankly that the experiment of marrying a roue is one which I 
 shall never repeat." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. The blood mounted to Lady 
 Falconer's face, for she felt herself offended in a double sense. 
 First, at the plain truth, which no one knew better than herself, 
 with regard to the dead and gone Falconer ; secondly, at the im-
 
 142 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 plied opinion of the Marquis de Chateanmesnil. To refrain alto- 
 gether from expressing her irritation was impossible ; therefore, 
 after a pause, she spoke : 
 
 " I am at no loss to imagine," she said, coldly, " from whom 
 you derived your opinion. But, without saying anything of the 
 wisdom of attempting to judge a matter of which you can know 
 very little, I may suggest that it is never well to trust the opinion 
 of interested persons." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer looked surprised. " I do not know in the least 
 to whom you are alluding," she said. " I have derived my opinion 
 of the Marquis de Chateaumesnil from common report ; and I am 
 unable to imagine what ' interested person ' you can have in your 
 mind." 
 
 "I have in my mind," replied Lady Falconer, "the person 
 who, unfortunately, appears to influence most of your opinions 
 and acts Mr. Stanhope." 
 
 The violet eyes opened a little wider. " Mr. Stanhope ! " 
 repeated Sydney. Then she laughed. " Forgive me," she said, 
 "but how very amusing! And what a specimen of the accuracy 
 nnd justice of many of our judgments! Why, Mr. Stanhope has 
 always been the warm defender of the Marquis excusing and 
 praising him to me much as if he wished what you do." 
 
 It did not often happen to Lady Falconer to change color 
 twice within five minutes ; but she blushed now probably from 
 the disconcerting consciousness of having made a blunder. She 
 also hesitated a little in her reply. 
 
 " I am sorry to have done Mr. Stanhope injustice," she said 
 after a moment, " but it was natural that I should think of him. 
 His intentions and hopes are very evident." 
 
 " Toward me, do you mean ? " asked Mrs. Falconer. " I sup- 
 pose it is natural for people to think so people who imagine that 
 no disengaged man can approach a rich woman without matri- 
 monial hopes and intentions. But I really thought that you knew 
 better at least as regards Mr. Stanhope." 
 
 " Why should he be an exception to other men ? " asked Lady 
 Falconer, a little sharply. 
 
 " Why is he an exception to other men in other respects ? " 
 was the quiet reply. " I don't believe that he ever thinks of mar-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 143 
 
 riage I am sure that he has never thought of marrying me; and 
 the proof of it is that he has again and again intimated just what 
 you have that I ought to make a brilliant marriage ; in other 
 words, that I ought to buy with my money the highest rank avail- 
 able." 
 
 " That is a very foolish way of regarding the matter," said 
 Lady Falconer, with some asperity. " Of course, if you throw 
 away your advantages, you will be very culpable. I am glad to 
 hear that Mr. Stanhope thinks so." 
 
 " You would not object to my being influenced by his opinion 
 on that point," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 Lady Falconer owned that she would not ; and, in reflecting 
 afterward on the conversation, she felt that it had not been with- 
 out its satisfactory result. She had still a lurking distrust of Stan- 
 hope being by no means so positive, as Sydney professed herself, 
 with regard to his lack of matrimonial intentions but, if he made 
 himself the advocate of the Marquis, she was prepared to forgive 
 him much. As for her hopes for that nobleman, she was not dis- 
 heartened ; but it was evident to her now that it would be a work 
 of longer time than she had anticipated, and she decided to give 
 him a few hints, the opportunity for which was easily found. It 
 was in Sydney's own boudoir that these hints were given Lady 
 Falconer having elected to remain at home one afternoon to re- 
 ceive her cousin, in consequence of which Mrs. Falconer forcibly 
 carried off Irene for a drive. 
 
 "Don't be afraid," she said, when the girl shrank at the first 
 proposal of it ; "I will not take you to the Bois. I am going to 
 Villette on a charitable errand. It is a long and not pleasant 
 drive, but it will be better for you than sitting here ; and you will 
 be interested, perhaps, in the work of the Sisters of Charity in the 
 house to which I am going." 
 
 So, while they drove away through miles of crowded streets to 
 the over-populous quarter of the poor where they were bound, 
 Lady Falconer settled herself comfortably with a novel, to wait 
 for her kinsman's coming. He was longer than she had expected, 
 but, being well entertained by M. Cherbuliez, she did not mind his 
 delay. It was at last rather a distraction to her pleasantly en- 
 grossed attention when the bell of the apartment rang, and a
 
 144 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 moment later he was shown into her presence. She rose and held 
 out her hand. At that moment Mrs. Falconer was sitting in a 
 low chair in the midst of a paved court surrounded on all sides by 
 tall buildings, a large paper open in her lap, from which she and 
 Irene were distributing bonbons to a long file of children whom 
 a smiling Sister was marshaling in front of them. They were 
 children of the poorest poor some orphans, some kept by the day 
 while the parents went to work ; they clutched the sugar-plums 
 in their eager little fingers, their dark, wistful eyes fastened on the 
 ladies as they whispered " Merci." This was their place of amuse- 
 ment this square court, with only the bit of sky above to tell of 
 God's wide, beautiful world. All that the good Sisters could do 
 for them they did ; but they could give them no better play-ground 
 than this fit type of the barren, inclosed life of poverty that lay 
 before them, with only the fair hope of heaven shining into it, if 
 they be not robbed of that hope and that heaven, as multitudes of 
 their brethren have been, and multitudes yet will be, in unhappy 
 France. 
 
 "I am glad to see you," said Lady Falconer to her cousin. "I 
 asked you to come this afternoon because I thought we would be 
 uninterrupted, and I have something of importance to say to you." 
 
 "You know that I am always happy to obey your summons," 
 answered the Marquis, " whether for a matter of importance or 
 not." 
 
 "I wish you were as ready to obey me in other matters," said 
 she ; " or at least to give attention to what I advise." 
 
 " And do I ever fail to give attention to what you advise ? " 
 asked he, with a smile, as he sat down and turned his handsome 
 head toward her. 
 
 "I have advised one thing for a long time to which you have 
 paid no heed," she answered. "And it is on that subject I want to 
 talk to you. Armand, do you not think it is time you should 
 range yourself and marry ? " 
 
 The Marquis did not look very much surprised by this abrupt 
 
 attack. Probably he had anticipated it. He only smiled a quiet 
 
 smile that might mean anything or nothing. 
 
 " Is it time ? " he said. " I really have not thought about it. 
 My liberty is the last valuable possession left me, and I am not in
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 145 
 
 haste to resign it. I prefer conjugating the verb Jennuyer alone, 
 to entering into a relation that might give it double meaning." 
 
 "Why should it?" asked Lady Falconer. "In our rank of 
 life, thank Heaven! marriage does not mean anything so odious 
 as enforced companionship. It only means a proper balance of 
 advantages, a firmer hold on the responsibilities of life, a in short, 
 a thing that has to be done," said her ladyship, breaking down in 
 her enumeration of what was signified by the marriage state. 
 " Therefore, why defer it? " 
 
 "Why does one defer any evil hour?" asked he, lifting his 
 shoulders. " Besides, you forget that I am no longer ton parti.' 1 ' 1 
 
 "A Marquis de Chateaumesnil must always be bon parti" an- 
 swered she. "Because you have been extravagant and injured 
 your fortune is no reason why you should not make any marriage 
 you desire. But I think" she paused an instant "that, con- 
 sidering your lessened fortune, a wealthy marriage would be best 
 for you." 
 
 "I am quite sure of it," he answered, calmly, "and perhaps 
 for that reason I have been in no haste. I am placed by my folly 
 in a position which makes it impossible for me to seek the hand of 
 any but a rich woman. Now, rich women not only do not abound, 
 but they are generally found with great disadvantages. I confess 
 it would go hard with me to make the daughter of some banker, 
 or retired marcJiand, Marquise de CMteaumesnil." 
 
 "It is not to be thought of! " said his cousin, hastily and de- 
 cidedly. "There is no reason why it should be thought of. 
 There are well-dowered daughters of noble houses to be found 
 and the best might be satisfied to become Marquise de Chateau- 
 mesnil. But I have another plan for you." 
 
 The deep, dark eyes, which Irene had called "inscrutable," 
 looked at her with amusement shining in their depths. 
 
 " Shall I spare you the trouble of telling your plan? " he asked. 
 " I can imagine what it is." 
 
 " I have sometimes thought that it was yours also," she said. 
 
 "Yon are mistaken," he answered. "It is not mine. I ad- 
 mire Mrs. Falconer ; but I have never thought of proposing my- 
 self as a suitor to her." 
 
 " But it is worth thinking of are you aware of that ? " cried 
 7
 
 14G HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Lady Falconer. "Do you know what her fortune is? She has 
 not less than twenty thousand pounds a year, and Sir George says 
 that part of her property is certain to increase immensely in 
 value. My dear Annand, consider what you could do with such 
 a fortune how you could restore Chateaumesnil how you could 
 enter puhlic life ! I might see you Prime Minister of France yet." 
 
 Something like a flush rose to his cheek at her eager words, 
 but there was a half-sad, half-ironic smile on his lip as he an- 
 swered: "Money has enormous power, certainly; but I hardly 
 think that any amount of it could make me a successful rival of 
 the 'foufurieuxS But do you think you are doing Mrs. Falconer 
 justice in saying so much of her fortune, so little of herself?" 
 
 " "What is there to say of her, except that it is surprising such 
 a shower of gold should have fallen upon one so well able to 
 make use of it ? She has beauty, cleverness, and social talent ; 
 and if she brings no prestige of family well, there must always be 
 some drawback. And I believe her family is good in America." 
 
 There was silence for a moment. The tall mirrors reflected 
 a grave-looking gentleman, and a lady who was regarding him 
 with evident anxiety. Presently he spoke : 
 
 " Eh fiien, what am I to say ? If I were ready to put myself in 
 your hands, what then ? Is Mrs. Falconer likely to look kindly 
 on our institution of mariage de convenance f " 
 
 "No," answered Lady Falconer, after a slight hesitation, 
 "she is not. Her ideas on that subject are very foolish alto- 
 gether those of one not bred in the great world. There is no 
 doubt but that it will be necessary for you tofaire la cour. It is 
 a troublesome process, but there is no help for it. I must deal 
 frankly with you ; and I assure you that, unless you can win her 
 heart, you have no chance at all." 
 
 "Ah!" said he. His face cleared, brightened. Evidently 
 this was an assurance which pleased, instead of dismaying him. 
 It may be that it did not seem a very troublesome process to one 
 who had already won so many hearts as the Marquis do Chateau- 
 mesnil. 
 
 "And," added his cousin, watching him closely, "I have 
 something else to tell you. I am sorry to say that you have a 
 prejudice to overcome. As an acquaintance, Sydney may like
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 147 
 
 you very well ; but, regarded ia a matrimonial point of view 
 You know the story of her marriage, no doubt. A sad mauvais 
 svjet, poor Ralph ; and the experience has given her a dread of 
 men of the same character. Now, I do not mean for a moment to 
 compare you to Ralph " 
 
 "Pray, don't apologize," said he, calmly. "I have deserved 
 that or any other comparison. Mrs. Falconer can think no worse 
 of me than I deserve, except in the fact that I follow no more 
 wandering fires. I am range now." 
 
 "It rests with you to make her believe that," said Lady Fal- 
 coner. " I warn you that it may not be an easy task. Ah you 
 smile! You think, perhaps, that I am mistaken " 
 
 " Not at all," he answered, " but you may have heard a witty 
 and admirable definition of the passion of love ' caprice in- 
 flamme par des obstacles? If I smiled, it was because I hoped 
 that perhaps the obstacles of overcoming Mrs. Falconer's preju- 
 dice might inflame me again with that pleasant caprice." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THESE was great regret among Mrs. Falconer's intimate friends 
 when her intentions for the winter were announced. It was 
 clearly impossible for all of them to imitate the proposed example 
 of Stanhope and Erne, and follow her with bag and baggage to the 
 Eternal City ; therefore, when they assembled for her last Sunday 
 reunion, the sorrow expressed on all sides was evidently sincere. 
 She was herself a trifle less radiant than usual. There is always 
 regret in parting with agreeable surroundings, and she began to 
 realize that it was something of a sacrifice to leave her charming 
 quarters and break up her pleasant circle. 
 
 " Don't talk any more of being sorry, please," she said at last, 
 " for I am, perhaps, sorriest of all. I have always said that Paris 
 is my favorite place of residence, and when I see my friends 
 around me, and know that I am saying good-by to them for 
 several months, you may be sure that Italy does not look all sun- 
 shine to me." 
 
 "You will carry sunshine to it, then," said some one gallantly
 
 14:8 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 bat the compliment was rather spoiled by the laugh with which 
 she answered: 
 
 " That would be like carrying coals to Newcastle. No ! if I 
 possessed any sunshine, the best thing to do would be to leave it 
 in Paris for your winter benefit." 
 
 " There is no doubt we shall need it, literally as well as figura- 
 tively," said Godwin. "I don't know a worse winter climate 
 than that of Paris, except that of London." 
 
 " "Why, then, do you not go to Italy ? " asked Mrs. Falconer, 
 turning toward him. 
 
 " Because I have work to do which can be better done in the 
 gray fogs of the Seine than under voluptuous southern skies," he 
 answered. " I am cast in rugged mold, yet even I can be tempted 
 to dolcefar niente now and then." 
 
 " And have you forgotten that sometimes ' le temps Ic mieux 
 employe est celui que Von perd ' ? " 
 
 He shook his head. "That may do for a dilettante worker 
 like Stanhope. I have no doubt he will employ time admirably 
 in that manner. But for me, I have learned, like Balzac, that ' le 
 temps est le scul capital de gens qui n'ont que leur intelligence 
 pour fortune? And also that ' les succes litteraires ne se con- 
 querent que dans la solitude ct par d'oltstincs travaux." 1 " 
 
 "No doubt that is very true," she said. "But do you think 
 you are quite just in calling Mr. Stanhope a dilettante worker? 
 I think he deserves to be classed better than that." -^ v " 
 
 "I did not apply the term in an offensive sense," Godwin 
 answered. ""What work he has done is good; but he is not 
 likely to do much more while he gives up his time to society and 
 to wandering." Then he glanced at her quickly. "You have 
 influence with him," he said. "Why do you not make him 
 accomplish something that would give him an enduring reputa- 
 tion?" 
 
 "I can not imagine," she replied, with a slight increase of 
 color, " why you should fancy that I have any influence with him. 
 I assure yon that I have none. Nor do I think that he is a man 
 to be easily influenced." 
 
 " It does not follow that he is easily influenced because I said 
 that you could influence him. Most women overrate their power ;
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 149 
 
 I am afraid you underrate yours. And it is a pity that he should 
 waste his time. He is very clever ; there is sometimes almost a 
 touch of genius ahout him." 
 
 " That is high praise from you, I know," she said, smiling like 
 one who is well pleased; "but I have such confidence in Mr. 
 Stanhope's judgment, that I believe he knows what is best to do, 
 and that, if he does not press his productive power, it is with 
 deliberate intention, and not from idleness or because he is in the 
 least distracted by social pleasures." 
 
 "Hum! " said Godwin a sound which might be taken to 
 mean either assent or dissent. 
 
 He did not pursue the subject further, and Mrs. Falconer's 
 attention was claimed then by others ; but she had a feeling as if 
 he were regarding her closely and almost suspiciously. It puzzled 
 at the same time that it amused her. What did he mean ? Of 
 what did he suspect her? 
 
 "I think," she said presently to Stanhope, "that Mr. Godwin 
 holds me accountable for tempting you to Italy and making you 
 waste time. Can you not let him know that I am guiltless in the 
 matter? " 
 
 " Ah, can I? " answered he, lightly. "Are you guiltless? In 
 other words, should I be going to Italy if you were not going 
 there?" 
 
 "That is nonsense!" she returned, with something like a 
 shade of vexation in her voice. " You know that my going has 
 nothing to do with the matter. It is on account of Irene " 
 
 " True," he said, more gravely, as she paused. "I should not, 
 of course, think of following you, except that I do not feel that I 
 have a right to throw all my responsibility as guardian on your 
 shoulders. You are quite right I will let Godwin know." 
 
 Something in his tone made her look up quickly. " I hope," 
 she said, hastily, " that you don't think I meant that it matters 
 at all to me " 
 
 "What inferences are drawn?" he said, with a smile, as she 
 paused again. " No I am sure that it does not matter ; but all 
 the same, it is as well that they should not be drawn. Godwin's 
 opinion is of no importance ; but there might be others " 
 
 He paused in turn, for at that moment he saw the Marquis de
 
 150 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Chateaumesnil approaching. The latter was as full of calm, high- 
 bred grace as ever ; but Stanhope fancied that he detected some- 
 thing under the repose of his manner a strain, as it were, of 
 animation, or perhaps of feeling which gave a light to the eye 
 that was not usually in. it. 
 
 "And so, madame, you are forsaking us! " he said. "Have 
 you, then, grown tired of Paris?" 
 
 "I never tire of Paris, M. le Marquis," she replied; "hut 
 there are reasons apart from weariness that sometimes make it 
 advisable to change one's sky and you must admit that I am 
 going to seek a brighter one." 
 
 "No one will admit it more readily than I," he answered; 
 " for, with all my attachment to Paris, I, too, prefer to seek a 
 brighter sky in winter. It would be hard to imagine one brighter 
 than that under which we spent last winter, mon cher" said he, 
 turning to Stanhope. " And, since Mrs. Falconer is forsaking us, 
 what do you say to a sun-bath in Algiers this season ? " 
 
 "I shall like nothing better," replied Stanhope, promptly, "if 
 you will agree to return by way of Italy." 
 
 " De tout mon cceur I " said the Marquis. It was what he had 
 already decided to do ; but he was not sorry that the proposal 
 should come from Stanhope although a little surprised. Mrs. 
 Falconer caught the expression which betrayed the latter feeling, 
 and hastened to give the necessary explanation. 
 
 "Mr. Stanhope is not very flattering to me," she said. " I am 
 to take with me to Italy a young lady who is his ward, and whom 
 he is willing to trust to me partially but, as you perceive, not en- 
 tirely." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Stanhope ; " so far from not trusting you 
 entirely, I only feel that I must not demand too much from your 
 kindness." 
 
 "That is a mere fafon de parler" said she. "You really 
 mean that you feel bound to see how I am acquitting myself. But 
 I assure you that, if you have the least inclination to explore the 
 source of the Nile, you can do so with a mind at ease so far aa 
 Mademoiselle Lescar is concerned." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Lescar ! " repeated the Marquis. " Have I not 
 heard that name lately? "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 151 
 
 " You have not only heard the name, but seen its bearer, 1 ' 
 said Mrs. Falconer. " Do you remember my companion at the 
 ChapelleExpiatoire?" 
 
 'Perfectly," he answered. "She had a face not easily to be 
 forgotten." 
 
 " She is now under my care, and will be my companion, I hope ? 
 for some time to come. Her mother died a few days after our 
 visit to the Chapelle, leaving her to the guardianship of Mr. Stan- 
 hope. A singular choice, perhaps you think considering his 
 age but the circumstances were peculiar. Madame Lescar was 
 alone, dying in a foreign land, and Mr. Stanhope will allow me to 
 say that he was very kind to her " 
 
 " There were claims of old friendship," interposed Stanhope, 
 " and she was a woman to whom any one short of a brute would 
 have been kind." 
 
 "Exactly," said Mrs. Falconer. "Mr. Stanhope, being short 
 of a brute, then, was not only kind, but devoted to her. Madame 
 Lescar therefore intrusted him with the legal guardianship of her 
 daughter. But since there was also hereditary friendship between 
 her family and mine, I have taken social charge of the young 
 lady, and, so far as I can judge, his fears that I may find the re- 
 sponsibility onerous are wholly unfounded." 
 
 " I am sure," said the Marquis, who had already heard some- 
 tiling of this from Lady Falconer, but without paying much 
 attention, or at all grasping the identity of the person concerned, 
 "that few responsibilities would prove too onerous for your 
 kindness ; but I can understand why Mr. Stanhope hesitates to 
 let you incur too much. If it were possible to predicate from 
 appearances, however, I should say that there was little danger 
 to be apprehended from Mademoiselle Lescar. Her face is rarely 
 beautiful and interesting." 
 
 " Beautiful and interesting people aro generally those who give 
 most trouble," observed Stanhope. " If personal experience did 
 not assure us of that, history would not to speak of fiction." 
 
 " According to my experience, numbers of plain and uninter- 
 esting people give trouble also," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 "I grant you that the faculty of giving trouble is not at all 
 dependent on personal appearances," said Stanhope; "but, with
 
 152 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the best or worst intentions possible in that line, a plain woman 
 is heavily handicapped ; while there are few limits to the amount 
 of trouble a beautiful woman can give if she has a mind that 
 way." 
 
 "And do you mean to imply that Irene has a mind that 
 way?" asked Mrs. Falconer. "I never heard anything more 
 unjust ! " 
 
 "I did not mean in the least to imply it," he answered; 
 " only to suggest that beauty is not an argument in favor of harm- 
 
 " I begin to believe that he is a woman-hater, and not to be 
 trusted at all," said Mrs. Falconer to the Marquis. "I assure you 
 that Mademoiselle Lescar is as charming as she is beautiful and 
 she has the most divine voice ! I wish you could hear her sing." 
 
 " And is there no hope that I may have that pleasure ? " 
 
 "Not now, certainly she has not sung since her mother's 
 death. Perhaps in Italy if you come to Italy " 
 
 " I shall certainly come," he said, quickly. 
 
 "Then she may sing for you." 
 
 "I shall be happy to hear her. That spirituelle face looks as 
 if she might do anything well. But," he added after a moment's 
 pause a moment during which Stanhope moved away "the 
 chief pleasure which I promise myself in Italy is not the pleasure 
 of hearing Mademoiselle Lescar sing." 
 
 "I hardly imagined so," said Mrs. Falconer, with a smile. 
 " There are many pleasures that one promises one's self in Italy, 
 and most of them are too great to be compared to anything a 
 woman can do." 
 
 "Yet it is possible that the greatest of them might fall into 
 insignificance by the side of what a woman can do or can 
 simply be," he said, with a manner which she felt to indicate 
 a suggestion of personal homage. 
 
 "Possible yes," she answered ; "but it would be so far from 
 a proof of wisdom on the part of the man in whose esteem they 
 fell, fhat I am sure you do not mean to commend it, even from 
 the most gallant point of view." 
 
 "Whether I commend it or not," he said, " I think that most 
 of your sex would approve of it."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 153 
 
 " So much the worse for them," she replied. " I am afraid it 
 is an intense egotism which makes women desire to be unduly 
 exalted for a time to be, perhaps, as unduly depreciated after- 
 ward." 
 
 " But there are a few women whom it would be impossible to 
 depreciate," said the Marquis, with an air of offering homage a 
 shade more personal. 
 
 " Then they are women who would certainly not desire to be 
 unduly exalted," she answered, with something like a challenge 
 in her soft, bright glance. 
 
 Lady Falconer, who was watching this conversation from the 
 other side of the room, saw from the expression of her kinsman's 
 face that he was pleased. In truth, he liked the ease and grace 
 with which his advances were received; and he liked also 
 perhaps even more the assurance that no lover-like raptures 
 would be expected of him. For him, indeed, the season of what 
 he had called " that pleasant caprice " was over ; and he could 
 offer little more than appreciative admiration to the most charm- 
 ing woman now. 
 
 "According to my experience," he once said to Stanhope, 
 " women in general outline are much alike. One is amused by 
 them, one likes their beauty, one endures their caprices occa- 
 sionally one finds afemme cTesprit, who is the most vain and cer- 
 tainly the most exacting of all. Do you remember that piquant 
 mot of Talleyrand's when some one expressed surprise at his 
 finding pleasure in the society of Madame Grant, after that of 
 Madame de Stael ? ' II faut avoir aime Madame de Stael pour 
 sawurer le lonTieur d'aimer une 'bete.' 1 " 
 
 "And has it never occurred to you," said Stanhope, " that be- 
 tween ihefe?nme d 1 esprit and Mte there may be another woman 
 one in whom intellectual strength is united to feminine grace, 
 and who can at the same time stimulate the mind and charm the 
 heart?" 
 
 " It is an ideal I have never found," replied the Marquis, " and 
 one I have no great desire to find ; for a companion who could at 
 the same time ' stimulate the mind and charm the heart ' would 
 prove too brilliant and fatiguing for daily life." 
 
 "You are a true Frenchman," said Stanhope, smiling," and in
 
 154 HEART OF STEEL 
 
 that idea, as in many others, yoar compatriots remind me of the 
 Athenians of old." 
 
 This interchange of sentiment had taken place months before, 
 but some association recalled it to the mind of the Marquis, as he 
 listened to Mrs. Falconer and watched her changeful face. "Was 
 not this, perhaps, Stanhope's ideal the woman who nnited "in- 
 tellectual strength to feminine grace," and could at once "stimu- 
 late the mind and charm the heart " ? 
 
 There was some one besides Lady Falconer who observed the 
 tite-d-tete, but with widely different feelings from hers. This was 
 Godwin, who was meditating an interruption, when two ladies, 
 accompanied by Erne, entered the salon, and made their way to 
 the hostess. One was Miss Dysart even more charmingly 
 dressed and brilliantly pretty than usual the other a delicate 
 woman of the frail American type. Their appearance was at 
 once explained by the elder lady. 
 
 "Mr. Erne dined with us," she said, a little nervously, "and 
 mentioning that you are leaving Paris soon, and that you receive 
 this evening, Violet thought it would be well that we should come 
 and say good-by." 
 
 "You are very kind, Mrs. Gilbert; and I am glad to see 
 yon," said Mrs. Falconer, with the most gracious courtesy. 
 She understood Miss Dysart perfectly; but it was, nevertheless, 
 her first impulse to reassure that young lady's evidently unwil- 
 ling companion. "Yes, I am leaving Paris soon, I regret to 
 say." 
 
 " Do you regret it? " asked Mrs. Gilbert, with an air of surprise. 
 " I should be so glad to get away ; but we have taken our apart- 
 ment, for some time, and Mr. Gilbert is beginning to like Paris 
 better than he did at first. But I really don't know what I shall 
 do when Violet has left me." 
 
 "She is going away, then? " said Mrs. Falconer, with a polite- 
 ness which scarcely covered the fact that she felt not the slightest 
 interest in Miss Dysart's movements. 
 
 "Yes, dear Mrs. Falconer," said Violet, turning from an ex- 
 change of greetings with the Marquis, "I am going to Nice 
 where, no doubt, I shall have the pleasure of seeing you in the 
 course of the winter."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 155 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Falconer, " I shall not be in Nice. I am go- 
 ing to Home." 
 
 " Oh, Kome is very agreeable," said Miss Dysart, patronizingly. 
 "Society there is not so gay as in Nice, but it is much less doubt- 
 ful ; aud, if there is not the excitement of running over to Monte 
 Carlo for an evening's amusement, there are compensations for 
 that." 
 
 "The compensation of finding a full purse rather than an 
 empty one in the morning, probably," said the Marquis. 
 
 She nodded, laughing. "I hope you are not shocked," she 
 said, "but I Jiave come away from Monte Carlo with an empty 
 purse in my time. It was fortunate that it was empty, however, 
 for the excitement of play is so entrancing, that if I had won 
 I should probably have become a resident of Monaco, and be 
 there yet." 
 
 " Then we must all be glad that you did not win," said the 
 Marquis, "since in that case we should have been deprived of the 
 pleasure of seeing you on many occasions." 
 
 " And I should have been forced to go and, like Daniel 
 Deronda, bring yon to a sense of the wickedness of your ways by 
 casting an evil eye on your play," said Erne. 
 
 " I can not imagine you in that part," she answered, " since, 
 unless ray memory fails, you also left the tables with an empty 
 purse one evening when we were there together, with the Jerning- 
 hams." 
 
 " Your memory is very good," he answered. " I was re- 
 duced to the necessity of borrowing money to return to Nice. I 
 have not been to Monte Carlo since." 
 
 " But you have not sworn off, I hope," said she. " You must 
 come down this winter and let us try to break the bank." 
 
 "I think," said Mrs. Falconer, "that to prevent such an ar- 
 rangement as that, I am justified in claiming Lionel's services as 
 due to me this winter, in virtue of a prior engagement. lie is 
 foing to Home, to act as my cavalier." 
 
 " How very pleasant for him 1 " said the girl, with a glance 
 of mirthful meaning. "But what is to become of poor Mr. 
 Stanhope? I thought he was your cavalier by prescriptive 
 right."
 
 156 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Mr. Stanhope has just made an engagement to accompany 
 M. de Chateaumesnil to Algiers," answered Mrs. Falconer, -with 
 unruffled composure. 
 
 "Has he, indeed? " said Miss Dysart, turning her eyes full of 
 diablerie on the Marquis. "Algiers maybe a place of banish- 
 ment; but what has M. de Chateaumesnil done to be sent 
 .there ? " 
 
 " He has discovered that the fiend ennui is to be met even on 
 the asphalt of Paris," answered the Marquis. 
 
 " Then I turn the invitation which Mr. Erne can not accept 
 over to you," said she, gayly. " Come to Nice, and let us go to 
 Monte Carlo and break the bank. I fancy that will put ennui to 
 flight." 
 
 "It might be a panacea that would kill in curing," said he, 
 shrugging his shoulders lightly. 
 
 "My dear Violet," interposed Mrs. Gilbert, finding words at 
 this juncture, " I really think it is very wrong of you, and and 
 might be misunderstood to give such invitations." 
 
 "They could not possibly be misunderstood," replied the 
 young lady, " for they are distinctly meant to be accepted. O 
 Mr. Stanhope, I am so glad you have come to speak to me, and be 
 shocked by an invitation to Monte Carlo ! I have heard that you 
 are to be ' off duty ' this winter so you have no excuse for de- 
 clining." 
 
 "It would be rather difficult for you to shock me," said Stan- 
 hope as he took her offered hand ; " but I am not fond of Monte 
 Carlo, and I don't think it is a particularly suitable place for you. 
 As for my being ' off duty ' may I beg to know what duty? " 
 
 But, as Violet afterward confessed to Mrs. Gilbert, Stanhope 
 was one of the few people of whom she stood in awe, and with 
 whom the ready audacity of her speech sometimes failed. In- 
 stead, therefore, of answering him as frankly as she would have 
 answered any one else, she hesitated an instant and looked after 
 Mrs. Falconer, who had turned away. 
 
 " Have you so many duties that you do not know ? " she asked. 
 " A propos, I have heard of a mysterious, beautiful protegee of 
 yours and Mrs. Falconer's. Why is she not visible to-night ? I 
 am very anxious to see her."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 157 
 
 "I suppose you mean Mademoiselle Lescar," he answered. 
 " She is in deep mourning her mother died only a few weeks 
 ago and therefore does not appear in society." 
 
 " Oh, her mother died a few weeks ago," said Miss Dysart, 
 giving him a glance. " And the name is Lescar. Ah, I see! Do 
 you ever read 'The Tittle-Tattle, ' Mr. Stanhope?" 
 
 " Never," replied Stanhope, with emphatic condemnation in 
 that trenchant word, for " The Tittle-Tattle " an American paper 
 published in Paris was one of the most unscrupulous of the " so- 
 ciety " sheets that are among the hlessings (well disguised 1) of the 
 age. 
 
 " Ah ! I do of course, it is shockingly personal in its gossip ; 
 hut, after all, one likes to know what the world is about, and, if 
 there is any world outside of society, I confess that I am not in- 
 terested in it. I'll send you the paper for this week there is an 
 article in it you may care to glance at. What is your address 
 Mem-ice's ? " 
 
 Stanhope's mind misgave him as to what the promised paper 
 might contain ; but he was discreet enough to make no inquiries, 
 and only said that he would be glad to receive anything that Miss 
 Dysart chose to send. 
 
 "You shall have it early to-morrow," said the young lady, 
 "though it is not likely you will be pleased when you read it. 
 Eh bien, I shall hope to see Mademoiselle Lescar if I go as far as 
 Rome this winter; and as for you, pray remember that Nice 
 could be taken as well as not on your way to Algiers." 
 
 " If I am so fortunate as to be the traveling companion of the 
 Marquis de Chateaumesnil, I shall endeavor not to forget," said 
 Stanhope. 
 
 "Now that is very ungrateful," she retorted, "for you know, 
 or you ought to know, the extent of my regard for you. Yes, 
 dear Mrs. Gilbert, as soon as I have spoken to Lady Falconer, I 
 am ready to go."
 
 15S HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Miss DYSART was as good as her word, and the next morning 
 Stanhope found on his hreakfast-table a copy of " The Tittle- 
 Tattle," addressed in writing that might have served, in respect 
 to size, for a sign-post, yet was so illegible that it Avas remarkable 
 it should ever have reached its destination. He tore off the 
 wrapper and turned over the paper with an exact foreboding of 
 what he should find. And there it was, with the dramatic head- 
 ing, "Sad Close of a Checkered Life." 
 
 " A woman who in her time played many brilliant parts in. 
 the world," the column-long article began, " died the other day 
 in poverty and obscurity in Paris. Many of our readers will re- 
 call the name and fame of the beautiful Miss Lescar, who twenty- 
 five years ago was a great Southern heiress, the daughter of a dis- 
 tinguished statesman, and perhaps the greatest belle in America. 
 
 Her marriage with Count Waldegrave Minister from to 
 
 Washington was the most brilliant social event of its time, and 
 was followed " 
 
 At this point Stanhope flung the paper across the room, with 
 an execration that would not have flattered the editor's ear. So, 
 to make a paragraph to tickle sensation-loving palates for an 
 hour, it was all spread out again the story of the bitter martyr- 
 dom which ended in that quiet grave of Montmartre ! Madame 
 Lescar's life in Paris and certainly also her death had been so 
 quiet that he wondered how even the instinct of a reporter had 
 discovered anything about it, until he remembered Erne and his 
 wide Bohemian acquaintance. A word dropped by him might 
 soon have traveled to a purveyor for " The Tittle-Tattle," with 
 this result. Well, it could no longer harm her who had passed 
 from man's injustice to God's eternal peace; but he knew how 
 disagreeable would be the curiosity which it would excite with 
 regard to Irene. So quickly do such stories die out of the minds 
 of men, that he had counted on her name awakening little or no 
 recollection of the mother's history when she appeared as Mrs. 
 Falconer's charge ; but now Miss Dysart was only one of a num- 
 ber who would recognize it at once. There was some relief in
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 159 
 
 the recollection that the readers of " The Tittle-Tattle " were 
 wholly American, and that the society of her compatriots was 
 that which, as a general rule, Mrs. Falconer least affected. 
 Nevertheless, he had a feeling as if Lady Falconer's remonstrance 
 against such a responsibility was already in a manner justified. 
 
 Presently he took np the paper again, thinking that it was 
 necessary he should know exactly what it contained, and forced 
 himself to read the article through. It was not more offensive 
 than most articles of the kind, though grossly inaccurate in detail, 
 partly from ignorance, partly from the sensational desire to 
 heighten effect. The writer described Madame Lescar as dyiug 
 iu the depths of poverty ; but, after all, there are worse charges 
 than that as Stanhope, though chafed and angry, reflected when 
 he finally put the paper into the fire, and rose to change his 
 thoughts by going out. 
 
 When he stepped into the street, he found that it was one of 
 those days which might almost tempt a statue to descend from its 
 pedestal and walk abroad in Paris. Floods of sunshine brought 
 out all the fete-like aspect of the brilliant city. The air was 
 balmy, the blue sky soft and distant, and as he strolled across the 
 garden of the Tuileries toward the Seine, the sense of annoyance 
 was imperceptibly lifted from him. He had come forth without 
 a definite purpose, but almost unconsciously his steps turned 
 toward one of his favorite lounging-places the book-stalls along 
 the quays. Crossing the river by the Pont Royal not without 
 pausing to admire the scene np and down its banks, the play of 
 light on its surface, the animated movement of boats to and fro 
 he reached the stalls and began to examine the books displayed 
 there in such heterogeneous collection. Left in peace, he would 
 probably have spent the morning in this manner ; but he was not 
 long undisturbed. A man at some distance from him paid for a 
 volume, put it under his arm. and turned around. As he did so, 
 his glance fell on Stanhope, and, walking up, he laid a hand on 
 the latter's shoulder. It was Godwin. 
 
 "You are just the man I want to see," he said. "Can you 
 give me half an hour? " 
 
 " An hour if you like," replied Stanhope. " I have nothing 
 to do."
 
 160 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Perhaps / may have something to do," said the other, a little 
 grimly. "However, come to my apartment. It is not far from 
 here." 
 
 It was indeed quite near, in one of the houses that front the 
 Quai Yoltaire very high, but all the better for that. "What a 
 panorama of Paris was to be seen from those windows, after one 
 had climbed the five flights of stairs that led to them 1 Imme- 
 diately below lay the river, with its bridges, and throngs of people 
 like a stream of ants passing over them ; opposite stretched the 
 noble front of the Louvre, with the rich foliage of the garden of 
 the Tuileries farther along. In the other direction were the roofs 
 of the old Cit6, with the massive towers of Notre-Dame vising 
 above them in the golden air ; while behind lay the Quartier Latin. 
 It was there that Godwin loved to wander, to dive into the nar- 
 row, picturesque streets, to haunt dark book-shops and cafes of a 
 different order from those of the Boulevard des Italiens ; above all, 
 to mingle in the vie de Bofieme that still exists there a world of 
 struggling artists and men of letters some of whom achieve fame, 
 while others fall by the wayside, and, instead of the Academy, find 
 the Hotel-Dieu or the Morgue. "I live on the border of two 
 worlds," he often said, " and I like to make excursions into both. 
 But, if I had to resign one, I .would sooner give up the Champs- 
 Elyses than the Quartier Latin. It would be a dull clod who did 
 not draw some inspiration from the spot where for ages learning 
 made her home." 
 
 There was, however, little or no suggestion of Bohemianism in 
 these pleasant rooms, with their great outlook of sky, their wide 
 view over the palaces and towers of the beautiful city. 
 
 "You have the pleasantest apartments that I know, Godwin," 
 said Stanhope, walking to one of the windows. "Should you 
 like me for a neighbor? " 
 
 "I should like you very well," Godwin answered. "But sit 
 down you have seen the view often enough. I have something 
 to say." 
 
 Stanhope removed a pile of books from an easy-chair and flung 
 himself into it. 
 
 " You look serious," he said. " What is the matter? " 
 
 "Nothing that concerns myself," replied Godwin, "but some-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 161 
 
 thing that annoys me, nevertheless. One can be annoyed occasion- 
 ally by things that don't concern one's self ! " He paused and 
 took a turn across the room, his hands in the pockets of his coat, 
 his heavy, overhanging brows drawn closer together. Then he 
 stopped in front of Stanhope, who, without stirring, looked up 
 waiting quietly for whatever was to come. 
 
 " You are certainly," he said, " Mrs. Falconer's friend. Being 
 so, do you mean to stand by and see her marry that notorious rove 
 the Marquis de Chateaumesnil ? " 
 
 "My dear fellow ! " exclaimed Stanhope. He sat upright sud- 
 denly, and regarded the other with an expression of amazement. 
 Had the thing gone so far that even Godwin That was his first 
 thought. 
 
 "You must see, anybody must see, what he intends," Godwin 
 went on. " It is very natural He has squandered one fortune, 
 and no doubt he thinks that he can secure another by merely offer- 
 ing the title of marquise to Mrs. Falconer. It is what goes on 
 every day. I mean no harm of him ; but for her " 
 
 Stanhope had by this time recovered his composure. He was 
 even able to smile. " Is it possible," he said, " that you know so 
 little of Mrs. Falconer as to fancy that she could be bought by a 
 title?" 
 
 "By the mere title no," answered Godwin. "By the advan- 
 tages and attractions of the Marquis de Chateaumesnil it is likely. 
 You know every one knows that his success with women is 
 great ; and, unless you wish to see her throw away her life by 
 marrying a ruined viveur, you any friend whom she has should 
 interfere." 
 
 " How ? " asked Stanhope. " Who has any right to interfere ? 
 I don't know a woman more free than Mrs. Falconer, nor do I 
 know one whose good sense is more to be trusted. She has made 
 one foolish marriage : she will never make another." 
 
 " There is no one of whom you can affirm that with certainty." 
 
 "Perhaps not ; but I was going on to say that I do not agree 
 with you in thinking that this marriage would be foolish. No, 
 hear me out " (for Godwin was about to speak). "It is true 
 that the Marquis de Chateaumesnil is a ruined viveur, but his ruin 
 is not altogether complete, and the follies of his youth are pretty
 
 162 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 well over. As we say in English, he has sowed his wild oats. 
 What he is, apart from those wild oats, nobody knows better than 
 I do; and I am certain that Mrs. Falconer might do worse than 
 marry him." 
 
 If the expression of this opinion cost the speaker an effort, it 
 certainly astonished his hearer. Godwin stared a moment before 
 he said, bluntly : 
 
 "What are yon thinking of? " 
 
 "I am thinking," replied Stanhope, calmly, " of Mrs. Falcon- 
 er's character. She is an ambitious woman, and a woman in- 
 tended by nature for a distinguished position in life. Snch a 
 position the Marquis de Chateaumesnil can offer her ; and, if ever 
 France should be happy enough to know a stable government 
 again, he will be one of the foremost men in it, for, you may 
 believe me or not, his abilities are great." 
 
 " Confound him ! " said Godwin, in a tone of disgust and 
 exasperation. "Who cares for his abilities? What I care about 
 is seeing Mrs. Falconer sacrifice herself for the sake of a distin- 
 guished position in life ! " 
 
 "The question is," said Stanhope, " would it be a sacrifice? " 
 
 " It strikes me that to know her is to answer the question," 
 said Godwin. " You wonder, perhaps, what interest it is of 
 mine," he went on, frowning more portentously. " Well, sim- 
 ply, that if I was a man capable of pleasing a woman which I 
 am not I have never seen any woman whom I should like so 
 well to please as the one of whom we speak. If I had the 
 remotest chance But I am not a fool : I know that beautiful 
 women do not fancy bears. I can not understand, however " 
 here he regarded Stanhope with a glance of fierce contempt 
 " how a man who has a chance, can, from faint-heartedness or 
 carelessness, fail to put forth his hand and seize it." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " exclaimed Stanhope, gathering himself 
 together as best he could under this most unexpected attack. 
 "Is it possible that you mean me? My dear Godwin, what are 
 you thinking of? In the first place, I am only Mrs. Falconer's 
 very good friend ; in the second place, if I were her lover, I 
 should have no more chance than you fancy that you have." 
 
 " Try," said Godwin, curtly.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 163 
 
 "You must really excuse me," answered Stanhope. "And 
 you must allow me to say that this is quite the most extraor- 
 dinary thing I have ever known. Am I trouhlesome in Mrs. 
 Falconer's salon ? do you wish to get rid of me ? I believe that, 
 according to the etiquette for such cases, a rejected suitor must 
 forswear the society of his mistress." 
 
 "You are trying to baffle me," said Godwin, looking at him 
 with a glance which might have daunted one less strong in the 
 consciousness of integrity. " Persiflage is not to my taste when 
 I am talking seriously. I have long felt sure that you would he 
 the fortunate man, and I have not grudged you your luck. But 
 I do grudge it," he said, bringing his hand down heavily on a 
 table by his side, " if you are so little worthy of it as you pre- 
 tend." 
 
 " On my honor, you are talking in enigmas to me," said 
 Stanhope, seriously enough now. "What is it that I am not 
 worthy of? The honor of being rejected by Mrs. Falconer? 
 "Will you not believe .me when I assure you that we have not a 
 thought beyond friendship for each other ? She is not a woman 
 who would be tempted to matrimony without some great advan- 
 tage to recommend the step ; and I as you might be aware am 
 not a marrying man." 
 
 " That is a mere phrase," said Godwin, " which means noth- 
 ing." He took another turn across the floor, then stopped and 
 spoke again, in a tone, if possible, harsher than before. " I can 
 not believe," he said, "that you are as insensible as you pretend. 
 I can not believe that any man who has not killed within himself 
 the possibility of feeling, could know such a woman as intimately 
 as you know her, and remain unmoved." 
 
 "Unless," said Stanhope, looking up and meeting the eyes 
 bent on him, while he spoke emphatically, " the man realized 
 fully that there must be no such feeling, and was neither fool nor 
 coward. "Why will you not understand that between Mrs. Fal- 
 coner and myself there are two great barriers her wealth and 
 her ambition ? I have money enough for my moderate wants, but 
 by her side I am a poor man. The Marquis de Chateau in esnil is 
 comparatively a poor man also ; but he can offer her high rank 
 and a splendid name. Do you not see that, if I were mad
 
 164: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 enough to listen to you, I should fill the contemptible role of a 
 suitor who had nothing to offer and everything to gain ? Bah ! 
 of what have you heen dreaming ? " 
 
 Again silence for a minute. Then Godwin said, slowly : " Of 
 a mistake, it seems. Well, I have not learned for the first time 
 to-day that there is little to be gained by interfering in matters 
 that are not one's affair. But, for a man who repudiates the idea 
 of any attachment to Mrs. Falconer, it occurs to me that you fol- 
 low her very closely. Have I not heard that you are going to 
 Italy this winter ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Stanhope, "I am going to Italy do you 
 know why ? Because Mrs. Falconer has taken charge of a young 
 girl who is my ward, and whom I am, therefore, in a manner 
 hound to look after." He paused an instant, then added : " "What 
 you may have said to her on the subject last night, I do not 
 know ; but she desired me to tell you this." 
 
 "Desired you to tell me why you are going?" asked Godwin, 
 with a keen glance. 
 
 " Distinctly. She said : ' Mr. Godwin seems to think that I am 
 tempting you to Italy, and making you waste time. Can you not 
 let him know that I am guiltless in the matter? ' I promised 
 to let you know ; and she added or implied in an unmistakable 
 manner that such inferences as might be drawn were disagree- 
 able to her. I think that ought to satisfy you." 
 
 "I hope it satisfies T/OW," said Godwin, dryly. "But, whatever 
 your feelings may be, I warn you that if you encourage her to 
 throw away her life on an exhausted viveur like the Marquis de 
 Chateaumesnil, you will regret it." 
 
 Now, few things are more irritating than such a warning as 
 this especially if it is echoed by a lurking doubt or fear in the 
 mind of the person warned and Stanhope's patience gave way. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said, " you talk as if I had anything to do with 
 Mrs. Falconer's matrimonial choice ! I can not conceive anything 
 more improbable than that she should ask my advice unless it be 
 that I should offer it." 
 
 The sense of irritation was still with him when he found him- 
 self again in the open air, mingled with a curious bewilderment. 
 
 " Of all men Godwin ! " he was saying to himself. It was a
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 165 
 
 thought which dominated the other thoughts that had heen pre- 
 sented to him annoying though these were. The suggestion of 
 his own probable success with Mrs. Falconer he thrust impatient- 
 ly aside, as a fresh proof of the deeply rooted folly of the world 
 on the subject of marriage ; also the warning with regard to the 
 Marquis de Chateaumesnil, which he knew to rest on a basis of su- 
 perficial knowledge and prejudice. But, even after the first shock 
 of surprise, his wonder seemed rather to grow than lessen that 
 Godwin who had always appeared to be hard and rugged as his 
 native rocks should not only prove susceptible to the tender pas- 
 sion, but should be inspired with humility enough to recognize the 
 hopelessness of such feeling on his part, and unselfishness enough 
 to urge another to advance and seize the prize that was beyond 
 his own reach ! The man who had analyzed, criticised, described 
 love in all its phases but had never risen, through it, to such a 
 height as this felt as if a new revelation of the complex human 
 heart had been spread before him a revelation the more start- 
 ling for its unexpectedness, inasmuch as it came of all men 
 from Godwin. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 ANOTHER scene of those days in Paris, Stanhope remembered. 
 Returning from a ride in the Bois one morning it was the day 
 before Mrs. Falconer's intended departure for Italy instead of 
 taking the usual horseman's road on the left of the Avenue, he 
 turned to the right and followed the upper way, leading past the 
 familiar gate through which he had so often gone to see Madame 
 Lescar, and out of which he had followed her coffin. There is a 
 singular fascination in places that we have once known well ; their 
 aspect ever after is like the face of a familiar friend, their stones 
 seem to speak of a hundred memories. Since Madame Lescar's 
 death, Stanhope had scarcely glanced toward the house as he 
 passed it; until to-day he had certainly not thought of seeking it. 
 But now, as he checked his horse and rode slowly by, it seemed 
 as if he was again bidding farewell to the soul that had gone forth 
 within those walls. How the beautiful, sensitive face rose before
 
 166 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 him ! how he heard the tones of the gentle voice ! " My daugh- 
 ter! " they were saying in his ears; and then he looked around, 
 and what was it he saw? Ir&ne standing in the gate- way and 
 beckoning him with a black-gloved hand ! A small boy, the son 
 of the concierge, came running out to hold his horse. 
 
 " I thought," she said, when he dismounted and advanced to 
 her, " that you might like to come with me. I am going to look at 
 the rooms for the last time ; and and you were so kind to her 
 But I don't wish you to come if it would be painful to you," 
 she added, with an instinct of possible reluctance on his part. 
 
 It would not have been possible so much as certain reluctance 
 had this been foretold to him. But on the spot, with all the as- 
 sociations which it awakened, and with Irene's pathetic glance on 
 him, he could not acknowledge that he shrank in the least from 
 what she proposed. 
 
 "Yes, I shall like to go with you," he said. "Thank you for 
 stopping me. It seems a strange chance which brought me here 
 at this moment yet it was not a chance altogether, for I remem- 
 bered" 
 
 "That it is a month to-day since she died? " asked the girl in 
 a low voice. " I have just left the church where a mass was said 
 for her ; and I felt then as if I had strength to come here." 
 
 " But you did not come alone ? " he said, quickly. 
 
 " Oh, no I have a maid with me. I sent her to speak to the 
 concierge, while I waited here for you I saw you coming. Yon- 
 der she is now." 
 
 They turned and walked toward the woman, who appeared 
 with a key in her hand. The concierge followed her, and stood 
 in the door with a benevolent air. His wife also came out of 
 their tiny lodge. Both welcomed "mademoiselle" with that 
 charming courtesy which still lingers with the French though 
 the spirit of democracy is fast destroying it, and teaching among 
 the first of the rights of man the right of rudeness and insolence. 
 They know Stanhope, and were not surprised that he should be 
 with Irene. " II est le fiance de mademoiselle, sans doute," the 
 concierge had long since observed to his wife. Leaving the maid 
 below, therefore, these two went up together to the second etage, 
 and Stanhope opened the door.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 167 
 
 Who does not know the aspect, the feeling of closed and de- 
 serted rooms ? And when they are rooms from which a heloved 
 presence has passed for ever, the chill is one that strikes to the 
 heart. Stanhope made haste to open the windows; but the sun- 
 light could not dissipate the gloom. It only fell over Irene who 
 stood in her black draperies in the middle of the floor, her hands 
 clasped over her heart and wrapped her in a saint-like glory. 
 There was nothing of saintly victory, however, but rather the 
 stress of anguish and conflict, in her sad face and sorrowful 
 eyes. 
 
 " A month ! " she was whispering to herself as she looked 
 around with a glance that took in every familiar spot. " Oh, my 
 mother, my darling, my best-beloved, I have been alive a month 
 without yon ! " 
 
 They were in the salon; but presently she turned and moved 
 slowly across the room to the door which opened into what had 
 beenher mother's chamber. She paused a moment with her hand 
 on the lock, as if to enter was almost more than she had strength 
 to do, then turned it quickly and went in. 
 
 Needless to say that Stanhope did not follow. There, where 
 the spirit had taken its flight, where the fair shell of mortality 
 had lain, was for the daughter a sacred spot into which he had no 
 thought of intruding. Indeed, for him every association with Ma- 
 dame Lescar save the last had its scene in the apartment in which 
 he stood. It was here that she had begged him to accept the care 
 of Irene's future ; here that she had described the girl in terms 
 that he felt would be both warning and guide to him in any emer- 
 gency which that future might hold ; here that she had expressed 
 her gratitude for Mrs. Falconer's promise, and here that she had 
 thanked him in words of sweetness that came back to him now, 
 with her look, her tone. Something like a mist was before his 
 sight as he walked quickly to the open window. The soft, warm 
 air a true St. Martin's Summer day it was met him like a caress ; 
 the bending sky was limpid and stainless. At his feet rolled the 
 brilliant, shifting tide of the great artery of pleasure, aa on the 
 day he had first stood there and thought of the life which, like a 
 wreck, the world had flung aside. What now was that world, 
 with its honors and pleasures, its heart-break and struggle, to her?
 
 1C8 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Gentle and heroic soul," he thought, " wherever in God's great 
 universe you may be, surely it is well with you ! " 
 
 Then, from the mother his thoughts passed to the daughter. 
 As yet he had scarcely felt the responsibility which had been laid 
 upon him, so much had Mrs. Falconer's kindness lifted the first 
 burden of it; but now the realization began to grow and deepen. 
 Distinctly as if he had heard them the day before he remem- 
 bered all of Madame Lescar's words on the occasion of his first 
 visit here, and especially some pathetic ones. "I am poor in 
 friends," she said, " but, were I rich in them, I should still prefer 
 you for this trust to any one else in the world; for you possess 
 the ability to read such a nature as Irene's, and the wisdom to 
 guide it. I should feel safe if I left her to your care." Was it 
 wonderful that, standing where these words had been spoken, with 
 the memory of yet another day when a dying hand had grasped 
 his, and a dying voice had thanked him, he registered a solemn 
 vow in his inmost heart that he would never suffer the effect of 
 passing time to weaken his sense of the meaning of the trust? 
 That his mind misgave him with regard to Irene's future was, 
 however, not remarkable. For such a creature it was impossible 
 to conceive a commonplace destiny ; yet in all that lies outside the 
 commonplace, how great the peril, how slender the prospect of 
 happiness for woman, he knew well. Every gift of mind, every 
 grace of person, seemed but an irony of fortune to one on whom 
 the consequences of a deep wrong had so darkly fallen. After 
 all, it was no wonder, he thought, that she found it impossible 
 to forgive the man who had flung wife and child out of his path 
 like broken toys, and walked to greatness over their ruined lives. 
 "Would she ever gain the height of the tender and noble soul 
 which had felt that no wrong was " worth resentment " ? "Would 
 the passionate heart ever learn the lesson contained in that beau- 
 tiful saying of St. Francis de Sales, " Blessed are the hearts that 
 bend, for they shall never break "? He was asking himself these 
 questions when the sound of a step, the soft rustle of a dress, 
 made him turn to face her of whom his thoughts were full. 
 
 "Have I kept you long?" she asked, with strange composure 
 but she was so pale that he quickly moved a chair toward her, 
 into which she sunk like one who might else have fallen. "It is
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 169 
 
 nothing," she whispered after a moment; "only, in there I 
 remembered, I realized so clearly! I lived it over again I al- 
 most think I heard her speak! My mother, my mother, can it 
 be that I shall never hear you speak again ! " 
 
 He was glad to see the tears come then in blinding torrents. 
 Such a storm of emotion would be followed by exhaustion ; but 
 that was better than the state which had preceded it. Leaving 
 her, lie went down to the concierge for a glass of wine, and when 
 he returned he found that the lull had already come. She was 
 struggling for self-control ; and, as he put the wine to her lips, she 
 looked up at him with piteous apology. 
 
 " I am sorry very sorry," she said. " I have distressed you, 
 and I did not want to do that. I thought all this was over or 
 I would not have asked you to come. In the church 1 felt so 
 calm, so certain that it is better for her. But now here it is 
 my own desolation that I feel ! " 
 
 She stopped, and he bade her drink the wine and not talk. 
 Like a child she obeyed, and it was several minutes before she 
 began to speak again. Then, though calm, she was trembling like 
 an aspen-leaf, and tears were shining on her lashes and lying wet 
 on the lily-white cheeks. 
 
 "When I went there," she said, with a motion toward the 
 door of the room she had left, " I felt as if it might ease the in- 
 tolerable sense of loss if I knelt by the chair in which she died, 
 and kissed the cushions against which she had leaned. But, as I 
 did so, only one thought, one remembrance came to me that of 
 her last request! I seemed to hear her voice her words. O 
 Mr. Stanhope" she looked up at him with a glance of passion- 
 ate appeal "is it not hard that such a thing should come be- 
 tween my mother and me? Am I never to think of her without 
 remembering that I refused to give the promise she asked with 
 her dying breath ? " 
 
 "But," said he compassionately, "you did not refuse. You 
 gave all that she asked you promised to try." 
 
 "Yes, and I have tried," she answered. " But after a month 
 of struggle of effort of prayer I have failed ! I could sooner 
 die than say from my heart if it was not from the heart what 
 value would it have ? that I forgive him ! "
 
 170 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 It was easy indeed to see that. The great eyes dilated, and 
 through their tears a flash of fire came fire which not even the 
 mighty waters of grief had quenched. 
 
 "I am sorry," said Stanhope, "but not surprised. The mis- 
 take you have committed has been in making the straggle at all 
 now. Poor child, had you not enough to suffer without tear- 
 ing yourself to pieces in such an effort ? I can offer you no 
 better counsel than this have patience with yourself. Your 
 mother was too wise, too reasonable, to expect you to accomplish 
 what she asked in a day, or a month. It must be a work of 
 time." 
 
 She shook her head. " I do not think time will have any 
 effect," she said. "It can not change what has been done it 
 can not alter what is. Nothing can alter that. Nothing can 
 bring her back, or undo the wrong" 
 
 " And if you could bring her back, if yon could undo the 
 wrong and put her in her rightful place to-day, would you do 
 it?" asked he. "You know that you would not. You know 
 that, apart from what faith tells you she has merited, she tri- 
 umphed over wrong in a manner which those who knew her can 
 never forget ; she set, as it were, her foot upon it, and rose into 
 an atmosphere where it had no power to sully her. 1 ' 
 
 " She did that all that my beautiful, noble mother 1 " said 
 the girl with a flood of tears such as we weep at the praise of 
 those dearer to us than our heart's-blood and far from us as 
 eternity is far from time. " But what then? I am not made like 
 her I can not conquer wrong by rising above it." 
 
 " Then you must own yourself conquered by it," said Stan- 
 hope. " And that you will never do. I have no fear. Your 
 mother's example, your mother's desire, must tell on you. And, 
 meanwhile, my earnest advice to you is to put all memory of 
 your promise as far as possible from your mind the very strug- 
 gle to forgive keeps resentment alive." 
 
 "Yes," she said, "that is true. I have never felt less able to 
 forgive than since I have been struggling to do so. It has made 
 me realize the wrong even more clearly than I did before." 
 
 " Therefore, cease to struggle. Try, instead, to forget. You 
 shake your head you think that is not much easier ? You are
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 1Y1 
 
 too young yet to have learned that, of all things in this world, it 
 is easiest. And time, after all, is the supreme conqueror. Some 
 day believe me, some day you will find it possible to say, 'I for- 
 give."' 
 
 "I can not even desire that such a day may come," she said; 
 "so you see how much hope there is of it. Though I have strug- 
 gled hard to do what she asked, because she asked it, I have not 
 even reached the point of wishing to forgive. I would far rather 
 but I will not talk of that ! I am sure you are right about the 
 effort to forget, but how am I to make it ? " 
 
 " It can only be made in one way," he answered " that is, 
 by filling the mind with other thoughts. You are going into a 
 new life try not to let the shadow of the past darken it. If you 
 had some absorbing occupation " 
 
 "I might have," she said, as he paused. She pointed to the 
 closed piano. "More than an occupation a career lies there. 
 Shall I take it?" 
 
 "What do you mean? " he asked though he knew very well 
 what she meant. 
 
 " My kind old maestro in Milan thinks that I am meant by 
 nature for the lyric stage," she replied. " Shall I, according to 
 his desire, begin the study for it ? " 
 
 "I am not aware that his desire has anything to do with it," 
 said Stanhope, to whom this was far from a pleasant revelation. 
 "Yours, of course, has though you will pardon me for adding 
 that what your mother thought of such an intention on your part 
 is even more important." 
 
 " I do not know," the girl answered, "for /never thought of 
 it while she lived. It is only since her death that I am conscious 
 of the wish to fling myself into some absorbing pursuit some- 
 thing that will deaden thought and pain. And if if my pride 
 is averse to the stage, I feel that to be all the more reason why I 
 should not shrink from going where she went." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Stanhope which meant that the last words gave 
 him the clew he needed. " But you forget that in the sense you 
 mean, she did not go on the stage ; and, further, that there was 
 a necessity in her case which does not exist in yours. She sang 
 in public in order to obtain for herself and for you the means to
 
 172 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 live. Why, then, should you set aside all that she did, and make 
 it of no account? The fortune 'which she left you is small, but 
 have you need for more ? " 
 
 "Do you imagine that I am thinking of money?" she asked, 
 with a quick flash in her glance. 
 
 " Most of those who go on the stage think of it," he answered. 
 " I do not suppose there is in the world a more mercenary class 
 of people, taken generally, than famous singers. It is very likely 
 that if you followed the counsel of your maestro, you might achieve 
 a great success; but, unless 1 read your character wrongly, it 
 would bring nothing to compensate you for the drawbacks of the 
 career for the bondage in which you would be bound, for the 
 sense that you had left the grace and dignity of private life for 
 ever behind you, for the insults from which no care could shield 
 you, for the feverish excitement and the tinsel fame. These 
 things are not felt by one born to them, a child of the stage and 
 its traditions ; but you were born for a different destiny." 
 
 " You forget," she said, in a choking voice, " that I was born 
 to nothing." 
 
 "Nay," he answered, gently, " you were born to follow in the 
 footsteps of one who is gone, and to prove, as she did, that ' no 
 wrong done by another can degrade you.' " 
 
 She caught her breath with a convulsive sob, and for a min- 
 ute there was silence. Then 
 
 " I see," she said in a low voice, "how wise my dear mother 
 was in bidding me be guided by you. I could almost believe she 
 had spoken. I will think no more of the stage." 
 
 " I do not say that," he answered as much surprised as relieved 
 by such unexpected docility " but you must make no rash resolu- 
 tions. You are not able to decide on your future now. Con- 
 tinue to cultivate your voice if you will indeed, my advice to you 
 is to do so and six months hence, if you desire it, we will talk 
 of this again." 
 
 " Six months hence ! " she repeated, her glance wandering 
 round the room with lingering wistfulness, then turning through 
 the window in the direction of the distant height of Montmartre. 
 "Six months hence I shall be that much farther from her or 
 should I say nearer to her? than to-day ! "
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BY the first of March there is an atmosphere of spring in 
 Rome. The air may still be sharp in the high, narrow streets, and 
 cold, with a chill which strikes to the heart, in the great galleries 
 and marble churches ; but in the gardens of the villas violets are 
 blooming everywhere, and the sunshine lies warm and bright over 
 the wide expanse of the Campagna, where wild flowers are spring- 
 ing in profusion, and the long undulations, like giant billows, are 
 growing green. The beautiful outlines of the Alban and the 
 Sabine Hills wear the softest tints of azure, and away beyond 
 Soracte the snow-clad peaks of the higher Apennines rise against 
 a sky of tender blue. Even over the time-worn face of the city 
 which has witnessed such myriads of springs, a smile seems to 
 break. The characteristic Roman life flows out rejoicing into the 
 piazzas, women group around the fountains, children laugh in the 
 sunshine, people lean from balconies or gossip in door-ways, soft- 
 eyed girls are offering fragrant bunches of violets at every corner 
 spring has come with a tide of joyous movement, a great thrill 
 of awakening life. 
 
 There are some people to whom the changes of season are 
 fraught with influences almost as deep as those to which Nature 
 responds with bud and leaf. The breath of spring stirs the cur- 
 rent of their being, as it stirs the sap of trees, the dormant 
 roots of flowers and grass. There is a poem in the sunshine, 
 a something too subtile and sweet for utterance in the delicate 
 clouds of blossom, the sparkling mist of distant hills. And if 
 there is hardly a spot of earth where this influence may not be 
 felt, what is it in Rome, where all influences meet and center ?
 
 174 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Irene could scarcely have told, perhaps; but she felt all that it 
 meant. With the opening season she began for the first time to 
 rally from the long depression of poignant grief. The weight of 
 sadness seemed in a measure lifted from her. It does not follow 
 that people forget because they cease to mourn "as one refusing 
 to be comforted." Remembrance may live under smiles as well 
 as under tears. Indeed, the truest, the sweetest, the deepest hearts 
 are those which remember in this way which with a cheerful 
 spirit go to meet all fair and pleasant gifts of God, yet carry in 
 sunshine or in shadow the tender memory of some buried past. 
 So it was that, after long and passionate sorrow, a realization of 
 better wisdom was borne to Irene in the sweetness of this Eoman 
 spring. Would it have been so elsewhere? It is doubtful. In 
 this Eternal City all things speak of eternity to the thinking mind, 
 the feeling soul : the solemn glory of the churches, with their 
 tombs and shrines of imperishable memories, the earth which has 
 been soaked with the blood of martyrs, the stones which have 
 known the footsteps of unnumbered saints, the tranquil spaces of 
 convent-gardens, the beauty of cloisters where holiness and learn- 
 ing have made their home for centuries, all the mighty past, which 
 in Rome can not be put aside, thatTconfronts one at every turn 
 these things told slowly but surely upon her, as Mrs. Falconer had 
 hoped that they might. 
 
 It was certainly a different- looking girl from the one who left 
 Paris, who stood on a sunny afternoon in the garden of Santa 
 Silvia on the Coelian Hill, and gazed over the scene before her. 
 Sorrow had indeed set its enduring stamp on the countenance, 
 which had much matured, and gained greater depth and intensity 
 of expression, since the day she was introduced to Mrs. Falconer, 
 as well as to the reader, in the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. It 
 is not for any child of man to pass through the dark valley of an 
 intense grief and bear no after-sign or token of it. Many such 
 signs were evident in Irene to those who had known her before 
 the blow fell ; yet they were signs which only those who knew 
 her well would now perceive. When she left Paris she was little 
 more than a pale shadow and picture of grief; now the fair cheek 
 had rounded again, the beautiful lips could smile, the violet 
 shadows lay no darker than Nature intended under the wonderful
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 175 
 
 eyes. She was a study of loveliness, though she thought little of 
 it, as she stood in her tall, slender grace, her perfect head rising, 
 with classic effect, from the dark folds of her mourning dress, in 
 this old garden with its picturesque surroundings. 
 
 She had just emerged with her companion from the church of 
 San Gregorio, and uttered a soft cry of surprise and pleasure, 
 when the Cistercian monk opened a side-door, and the view burst 
 on her, together with the soft glowing outer air. She had hardly 
 realized before how closely grouped around the spot are the most 
 famous monuments of ancient Rome. In front rose the Palatine, 
 crowned with those somber masses of ruin, shaded by dark groups 
 of cypress, which are all that remains of the palace of the Caesars 
 a picture which no familiarity can ever make less impressive. 
 Desolate beyond all expression, solemn and deserted, like a spot 
 accursed, it stands this hill round which Eomulus traced the 
 mystic circle of his city with the yoked heifer and bull, from 
 which went forth the force to subdue and rule the world, and 
 where the long line of emperors rivaled each other in crime 
 and cruelty, and unimaginable excesses. Yonder are the broken 
 arches of the great amphitheatre where, for their pleasure, the 
 martyrs of Christ died by fire, and sword, and wild beast3. There 
 are the cyclopean walls of the Baths of Caracalla, with their tes- 
 timony to the luxury of the imperial and pagan city the luxury 
 which sapped the foundations of Roman strength and valor. 
 And here O contrast only possible in Rome! in the church of 
 St. Gregory, is the cell of the monk who, called forth from that 
 cell to rule the church of God, "gave the last blow to the power 
 of the Csosars, and first set his foot as sovereign on the cradle and 
 capital of their greatness " the majestic Pontiff whose figure 
 seems near to us as we look across at the Palatine Hill, yet who 
 on this spot gave his parting blessing to St. Augustine and the 
 monks who went with him as missionaries to carry the light of 
 faith to England, and of whom Montalembert has well written, 
 " (Test lui qui inaugure le moyen dge, la societe moderne et la civi- 
 lisation ehretwnne.^ 
 
 " Truly Rome is an awful place the weight of its memories 
 is enough to crush one ! " thought the girl, as she stood with 
 clasped hands, trying to picture all the innumerable scenes of
 
 176 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 history that had been enacted on the space of earth that lay 
 beneath her gaze. That quiet road, coming from the Via Appia 
 and leading toward the Forum, what is it but the Via Triumpha- 
 lis, along which the victorious generals passed with their legions 
 and captives and the conquered wealth of tribute nations, in the 
 gorgeous spectacle of a Roman triumph to the temple of Jupiter 
 on the Capitoline Hill? Along that way St. Paul was led, "hav- 
 ing appealed unto Caesar," to the quarters of the praatorian 
 guard and the judgment-seat of Fero. Along there St. Peter 
 fled, to meet on the Appian Way the well-known figure of his 
 Lord, to cry, " Domine quo vadis ? " and to be sent back by the 
 answer to suffer, head downward, on the height of Janiculum. 
 And that defaced arch, is it not the Arch of Constantine, erected 
 in memory of the victory, won under the sign of the cross, 
 which ended the long persecution of three hundred years and 
 brought the Church forth from the Catacombs, to conquer the 
 world? 
 
 There was a dazzled expression in the girl's eyes when she 
 slowly turned at last. It was caused less by the sunshine than by 
 the visions that had risen before her. How tranquil this small 
 space, partially inclosed by soft-toned church and convent-walls, 
 looked! Violets were blooming in profusion along all the bor- 
 ders; the monk in his picturesque habit was stooping to gather 
 some, while Mrs. Vance stood by, talking to him in broken Ital- 
 ian. " Si, signora" he was saying. Irene was touched by his 
 gentle, worn face, his dark, kind eyes. When he divided the flow- 
 ers and offered her half, she thanked him with a smile. 
 
 " One feels as if they ought to be sweeter here than else- 
 where, 1 ' she said. " Thirteen hundred years ago St. Gregory 
 must often have walked where we are walking now. How he 
 regretted the peace that he left here! It seems to be here yet," 
 said she, looking round. 
 
 From the garden they went to the chapels, and there Irene 
 might have lingered long, but for the presence of Mrs. Vance, 
 who, though developing a praiseworthy desire to see what she 
 called " the objects of interest " of Rome, had an appetite for 
 those objects very soon satisfied. She looked obediently at the 
 famous frescoes of Guido and Domenichino, at the great statue of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 177 
 
 St. Gregory, and at the table where he daily fed twelve poor 
 pilgrims, and where, the heautiful legend tells, he one day found 
 an angel as tbe thirteenth; but her capacity for interest and 
 admiration being limited, Irene knew that she was soon ready 
 to go, and had not the selfishness to detain her. So it came to 
 pass that, half an hour later, they were descending the noble 
 flight of steps that leads to the front of the church, when they 
 met a young man ascending them, who paused and lifted his hat, 
 eagerly smiling. It was Erne. 
 
 " How fortunate I am to find you still here 1 " he cried. " I 
 have hurried, but I was afraid you would be gone." 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Irene. "And how did you 
 know that we were here ? " 
 
 "Antonio told me. 'They have gone to San Gregorio,' he 
 said. So, I followed post-haste or, rather, cab-haste." 
 
 " But why ? " asked the girl again. 
 
 The young man turned with an injured air to Mrs. Vance. 
 "Did you ever hear anything more uncivil?" he demanded. 
 " Of course, it is understood that I have made all this haste to 
 enjoy the afternoon with yon." 
 
 The elder lady laughed. " You are very good indeed," she 
 said. " But we have finished sight-seeing for the present, and 
 now we are going to drive." 
 
 "I can drive with you, can not I? That is, if Mademoiselle 
 Lescar will graciously permit. But there is time enough for 
 driving. I want you to come to the Villa Mattei, and see the 
 view of the Campagna from its terrace." 
 
 " Is it far ? " asked Mrs. Vance, hesitating. She wanted to 
 sink back in the luxurious carriage that awaited them, draw her 
 fur-lined cloak about her, and with a rug over her knees enjoy 
 the pleasure of motion without exertion ; she could not believe 
 that there was anything in a view of the Campagna, with which 
 she felt herself already sufficiently familiar, to compensate for 
 deferring this pleasure. 
 
 ' : It is very near at hand," answered Erne, " and, if yon have 
 not seen it, I think you will he wrong to miss tbe view from the 
 garden." 
 
 " We have seen a great many views," observed Mrs. Vance,
 
 178 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 with an appealing look over the Palatine. " But what do you 
 say, my dear ? " 
 
 " Let us go," answered IrSne. " It will not take us long ; and, 
 as Mr. Erne says, there is time enough for driving." 
 
 So, smothering a sigh, Mrs. Vance consented, and, as they had 
 by this time reached the carriage, Erne handed them in and fol- 
 lowed, after bidding the coachman drive to the Villa Mattel. Mrs. 
 Vance could not deny that it was very near at hand, when they 
 stopped at its gate, nor could she refrain from acknowledging that 
 it was well to have come, when they walked through the lovely, 
 quiet grounds, with their long alleys bordered by tall hedges of 
 clipped box, their wealth of sweet spring flowers, their ancient 
 statues and columns. And when they presently emerged on the 
 terrace, she echoed Irene's exclamation of delight. 
 
 For it was a glorious view which lay before them. The noble 
 Campagna, with its indescribable shades and gradations of color, 
 crossed by the mighty lines of the broken aqueducts, stretched 
 afar until bounded by the beautiful outlines and exquisite tints of 
 the Alban Hills, on the sides of which, like spots of glittering 
 light, the different towns and villages Frascati, Albano, and 
 many more shone in the sunshine. A divine sky overarched the 
 wide expanse ; cloud-shadows were softly falling here and there 
 now on the plain, now over the distant mountains like deep 
 notes in some mighty harmony. In the near foreground were the 
 walls of Kome, the secluded valley which contains the Fountain 
 of Egeria and the ruined Baths of Caracalla ; while at the other 
 extremity of the Coelian, the great Basilica of St. John Lateran 
 stood in full relief, the statues on its roof clear-cut against the 
 sapphire sky. 
 
 " "Was I not right to bring you here? " asked Erne, presently, 
 of the girl who stood silent and motionless gazing over the scene. 
 
 She turned her shining eyes on him. " Why did you not bring 
 me long ago ? " she asked. 
 
 ""Well," he answered, "you know my suggestions are not al- 
 ways favorably received. I have proposed to do so several 
 times, but you were indifferent, and others made objec- 
 tions" 
 
 " Yes, I have been very indifferent," said she, in a low voice.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. lYl> 
 
 \ 
 
 " But now I begin to feel as if all these beautiful scenes had a \ 
 message for me. I am glad that you brought us here." 
 
 Then she turned and walked slowly onward along the broad 
 terrace. Erne followed with Mrs. Vance, for he knew Irene well 
 enough by this time to be aware that she desired to be alone. He 
 contented himself, therefore, with answering his companion's ques- 
 tions with regard to every prominent object on the wide land- 
 scape, while watching the graceful figure that moved in front of 
 them. Slowly as it moved, however, Mrs. Yance moved even more 
 slowly, so that the distance between them gradually widened. 
 Presently he saw Irene pause at the opening entrance of the ilex 
 avenue that leads from the terrace to the villa. A seat is placed 
 there, on which an inscription tells that " here St. Philip Neri 
 loved to sit and speak with his companions of the things of God." 
 It is truly a spot for saint as well as poet. The ilexes most 
 picturesque of trees meet overhead ; behind is the green obscu- 
 rity of the avenue lined with fragments of ancient sculpture ; in 
 front the Campagna with its spreading horizon, its far faint hills, 
 its storied ruins, lying under a mist soft as a magic glamour. 
 
 The beauty and the associations of the scene moved Irene in a 
 manner impossible to describe. She almost seemed to hear the 
 voice of the gentle saint of Rome, as she looked beyond bastioned 
 steep and classic ruins to the eternal sky and the heavenly hills. 
 That the thought of her mother came to her with peculiar force 
 was not surprising. It was always an underlying consciousness, 
 and all beautiful, all holy, all touching things, led directly to it ; 
 for it has been well said that when living our friends are with us 
 sometimes, when dead with us always. As she so stood her 
 face unveiled, her large, wistful eyes fastened on the distant hori- 
 zon she seemed like the embodiment of some exquisite vision 
 to a man who was advancing under the shade of the ilex-trees 
 toward her. 
 
 He was a young man, with an air of high breeding, and some- 
 thing in manner or bearing which seemed to indicate a habit of 
 command. It may have been the carriage of the head which sug- 
 gested this, or the proud outline of the face, which was strikingly 
 intellectual and also singularly cold. "A man of marble or ice 
 ma foi, there is no such thing as melting him ! " a fascinating
 
 180 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Frenchwoman had once declared, shrugging her shoulders in de- 
 spair. Marble or ice he might be, yet there was a poetic side to 
 his nature, as a physiognomist would have told from the shape of 
 his brow a side not very much cultivated, probably, yet existing 
 for all that, and awakened now by the sight of this girl with her 
 fair face and sorrowful eyes. She was like a picture, framed by 
 the green opening, with the sky and the Campagna and the far 
 blue hills as a background. To read the inscription on the seat, 
 she had turned her profile toward him, and so remained when her 
 glance wandered away. In the strong light that fell on her, he 
 noted every detail of her appearance the purple violets from San 
 Gregorio hanging in the front of her black dress, the long crape 
 veil swept backward, one delicate ungloved hand, the distinc- 
 tion and grace that pervaded her appearance like a perfume. So 
 entire was her unconsciousness of his presence, that as he drew 
 nearer he first hesitated, then paused. It seemed impossible to 
 startle her by his appearance ; yet to stand still and stare at her 
 was equally impossible, since she might at any moment become 
 aware of what could only appear extreme rudeness. He turned, 
 therefore, to examine one of the fragments of ancient marble ; 
 and, as he did so, steps approached on the terrace, and a voice 
 spoke in English : 
 
 "I see," said Erne, " that you have discovered the best point 
 for the view and St. Philip Neri discovered it before you, as no 
 doubt you have observed. The most effective approach to the 
 terrace is by that ilex avenue ; but I brought you another way 
 because I wanted to keep that for our return. Shall we enter it 
 now?" 
 
 " No," answered IrSne quickly, before Mrs. Vance could utter 
 the assent which trembled on her tongue. " Let us go on to the 
 end of the terrace and return here. One can not have too much of 
 this beautiful view." 
 
 " It is almost unsurpassed," said the young man, pausing at her 
 side. "Rome abounds in magnificent views, as we know, but 
 there is none finer than this. I have come here often during the 
 winter for atmospheric effects they have been inexpressible. 
 And I like the foreground this great bastion built on the ancient 
 wall of Servius Tullius, those ruins which in massive strength and
 
 HEART OP STEEL. 181 
 
 beauty so far surpass our most finished achievements ; the fact that 
 yonder is the site of the Porta Capena ; and there the Fountain 
 of Egeria. I have almost dreamed sometimes that I saw Numa 
 Pompilius himself." 
 
 "And the nymph?" she asked, smiling. 
 
 " No," he answered, as he looked at her. " I see the nymph 
 for the first time to-day." 
 
 " And, like a true nymph, I suppose she is only visihle to you," 
 said the young lady, quietly. " I should like to see her should 
 not you, Mrs. Vance? But let us go on: I am afraid that you 
 are anxious to get back to the carriage." 
 
 "Not anxious, my dear," said Mrs. Vance, who with eye-glass 
 lifted had been trying to take in the Porta Capena and the Fount- 
 ain of Egeria. " But I think it would be well for us to return as 
 soon as you are ready. It seems to me that it grows a little 
 chilly." 
 
 "It seems to me like a day from paradise," said Ir6ne, look- 
 ing from the fair, outspread earth to the gracious, bending sky. 
 
 They passed on as she spoke, and the next moment a man 
 stepped forth from the ilex shade, and stood in turn on the terrace. 
 The majesty of the great plain, the soft beauty of the distant 
 heights, and the tender glory of the sky, certainly did not appeal- 
 to him in vain. From the expression of his face, it was evident that 
 there was no influence of nature or memory of history to which 
 he did not respond. But presently his gaze returned from a wide 
 sweep over the scene, to the Fountain of Egeria, and his lips 
 stirred into a slight smile evoked by the recollection of Erne's 
 words. Yet, when his glance fell a minute later on a few fresh 
 violets lying at his feet, it seemed an unconscious impulse with 
 him to stoop and pick them np. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 MRS. FALOOXER'S apartments were scarcely less luxurious and 
 certainly not less agreeable in Rome than in Paris. The house, 
 of which she had the first floor, was situated near the head of the 
 Trinita de' Monti steps, and commanded a beautiful outlook over
 
 182 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the city with its multitude of roofs and spires, dominated by the 
 great dome of St. Peter's. This view had been a source of extreme 
 pleasure to Irene all winter, and she had often declined to go to 
 drive in the afternoon, preferring to establish herself in a window, 
 and watch the sun set behind that majestic dome, " la seule dcs 
 csuvres d'hommes qui ait quelque chose de la grandeur des asmrcs 
 de Dieu" 
 
 That Mrs. Falconer had gathered round her in Rome, as in 
 Paris, a brilliant circle of acquaintances, was not remarkable. A 
 woman who is lovely, wealthy, clever, and unexceptionally intro- 
 duced, can generally accomplish whatever she desires in a social 
 point of view, and "people worth knowing" are perhaps to be 
 found in greater numbers in Rome than anywhere else in the 
 world. Her salon was soon filled with a throng as cosmopolitan 
 as her heart could desire Italians, with that grave and noble 
 dignity which still sits upon the true Roman ; Englishmen of the 
 best class, intellectually as well as socially ; Parisians who had torn 
 themselves for a brief space from their Boulevards ; Americans 
 who had a claim upon her friendship ; artists, musicians, men of 
 letters. Those who were privileged to enter it declared that there 
 was no drawing-room in Rome that season to compare with Mrs. 
 Falconer's in attraction. And besides the charm of the hostess, 
 and the exceptional nature of the company, there were whispers 
 of a remarkable beauty, and a still more remarkable voice, to be 
 seen and heard now and then. Though not going into society, 
 Irene was always willing to appear when Mrs. Falconer had only 
 a few friends, and to sing for them. "It is nothing to me, and 
 gives others pleasure," she always simply said. It certainly gave 
 others pleasure ; and naturally they talked of it. " It is a won- 
 derful voice," one or two musical critics of high authority pro- 
 nounced. " If she went on the stage she would make a diva of 
 the first rank." These opinions, with the air of mystery thrown 
 about the young singer, her seclusion, her deep mourning, her 
 striking beauty, all tended to excite curiosity and arouse interest. 
 
 Erne was among the first to hear of this. Such a face could 
 not escape the notice of artists, and when one of their own guild 
 was seen in attendance on it, he was speedily forced to run a 
 gantlet of questions. Very little was to be extracted from him,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 183 
 
 however, beyond the facts that Miss Lescar was a young lady 
 under the care of Mrs. Falconer, that she had not yet been intro- 
 duced into society, and that her voice was not intended for the 
 stage. On the latter point he was more emphatic than his knowl- 
 edge warranted, for he really knew nothing of Irene's intentions ; 
 bnt all his feeling rose up in arms against the suggestion. It 
 seemed to him little short of sacrilege, for the half-fanciful hom- 
 age with which her beauty first inspired him had deepened from 
 knowledge and association into a passion of which he had not 
 yet asked himself the probable end. It was enough for him at 
 present to see her constantly and familiarly, as no other man saw 
 her ; to be her companion and guide through galleries filled with 
 shapes of classic beauty and harmonies of glowing color, through 
 spacious gardens with fountains flashing and statues standing out 
 against the deep green of box and ilex or the far horizon of blue 
 hills, through the solemn majesty of churches rich with the 
 wealth and beauty of the ages of faith, or through ancient ruins 
 incrusted with poetry and history, with the passion and the pa- 
 thos of past life. Certainly they were ideal scenes in which to 
 wander with a companion whose nature, like the sensitive strings 
 of a violin, answered to every touch, whether that touch came 
 through religion, nature, art, or history and it was no wonder 
 that fancy should have deepened to passion under such influences. 
 It was a result naturally to be expected, Mrs. Falconer after- 
 ward confessed ; but at the time she was singularly unconscious 
 of it. Erne had so easily fallen into his place, and it was so 
 pleasant to have the agreeable, cultivated young fellow always 
 at hand " for men have their uses," she acknowledged with an 
 air of candor that she overlooked the danger to his peace of 
 mind. Perhaps she was incredulous of the possibility of such a 
 danger. Worshipers at many shrines are liable to have the depth 
 as well as the permanence of their devotion doubted. That he 
 was for the present enthralled by Irene's charm, she knew ; but 
 it did not seem to her a matter for serious consideration. The 
 girl herself was as little affected thereby as one of the marble 
 statues of the Vatican; and, this being the case, Mrs. Falconer 
 felt thoroughly at ease, and failed to see any reason why the 
 association should be restricted.
 
 18J- HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 That such a reason existed, however, was at length made 
 clear to her by one of the friends who are always ready to point 
 out their neighbors' mistakes to them. This friend was an Eng- 
 lish lady with whom she was driving on the same afternoon that 
 Irene and Erne were looking over the Campagna from the terraco 
 of the Villa Mattei. There had been a brilliant breakfast-party 
 earlier in the day, at a villa just without the walls of Eome, and, 
 after their return from this, the two ladies were making the usual 
 round on the Pincian. Discussing the beauty of a young Kussian 
 princess whom they had met, Lady Dorchester said : 
 
 " She is very lovely, but not to compare to your young pro- 
 tegee. I mention her because they have both the same indescrib- 
 able air of refinement and high breeding. And, by-the-by, my 
 dear, it has been on my mind for some time to tell you that 
 Miss Lescar is really seen too much with that clever young Mr. 
 Erne. You know Eome is a sad place for gossip I suppose 
 because we have all nothing else to do and his attendance on 
 her must be remarked all the more because she is not in society 
 yet." 
 
 " But for that reason I thought it would not be remarked," 
 said Mrs. Falconer. " Ir&ne knows so few people, and Lionel is 
 my cousin, and like a brother to me so their association has 
 seemed very natural. Either my aunt or myself have always 
 made one of the party." 
 
 " Exactly," said the other, smiling. " But whether your aunt 
 or yourself plays chaperon, Mr. Erne always appears in conjunc- 
 tion with Miss Lescar. I don't wonder at all she is certainly 
 an exquisite creature but unless they me fiance, it is a misfortune 
 for a girl to be so publicly and constantly seen with one man." 
 
 " There is nothing of the kind between them nothing," said 
 Mrs. Falconer, in a tone of vexation. " It never occurred to me 
 that any one would think so." 
 
 "N"o one would have thought so the matter would never 
 have been noticed at all but for her striking beauty," said Lady 
 Dorchester. " Even if she were nobody, that face would attract 
 attention, and since it is known that she is with you But, pray, 
 don't fancy, my dear, that I am blaming you. I understand the 
 young man's position, and how it is that he is admitted to such
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 185 
 
 familiarity. I only thought it well to call your attention to the 
 fact that other people do not understand the circumstances of the 
 case." 
 
 " I am afraid that I deserve hlame," said Mrs. Falconer, after 
 a moment's pause. "I have, at least, been absurdly blind. I 
 have not considered how the matter must look to outsiders. 
 Thank you, dear Lady Dorchester, for telling me." 
 
 " I fancy the young people will not thank me," said Lady 
 Dorchester, with a smile. 
 
 " Lionel may not," said Mrs. Falconer, " but Irene is thorough- 
 ly indifferent. If I had not been sure of that, I should not have 
 permitted the association as I have done." 
 
 Lady Dorchester murmured something to the effect that peo- 
 ple could never be altogether sure of matters of the kind. 
 
 "I am perfectly sure of this," said Mrs. Falconer. " Irene is 
 not in the least like ordinary girls." 
 
 " Cela na sans dire" said the other. " But I believe that 
 even Sappho is supposed to have fallen in love." 
 
 "This Sappho will not fall in love with poor Lionel," said 
 Mrs. Falconer, smiling ; " but there is a sympathy between them 
 which has set up a certain camaraderie that I fear I shall find it 
 difficult to break, without making too much of the affair which 
 it is undesirable to do, you know." 
 
 "There is one simple way of accomplishing it," said Lady 
 Dorchester. " Take Miss Lescar into society, and there will soon 
 be plenty of men to contest Mr. Erne's place with him. I know 
 half a dozen who are wild about her now." 
 
 " But she is in mourning her mother died last October." 
 
 "That is no reason for maintaining absolute seclusion. Of 
 course, you would not take her to balls, but she might appear at 
 your receptions, and go out quietly. Bring her to me on Wednes- 
 day evening." 
 
 " My dear Lady Dorchester, I am afraid she will never con- 
 sent." 
 
 " Try, at all events. I assure you that, unless you wish the 
 matter to become serious, it is your only chance. You under- 
 rate your cousin's fascinations. I think that even Sappho might 
 yield to them, if she saw nobody else."
 
 186 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 The carriage at that moment stopped before Mrs. Falconer's 
 portone ; so these words were virtually the last of the conversa- 
 tion. Lady Dorchester drove away with the agreeable sense of 
 a duty discharged and an attraction probably secured for her next 
 reception ; while Mrs. Falconer mounted the staircase to be in- 
 formed by Antonio the Italian servant who opened the door of 
 her apartment that the signora and signorina had gone out 
 early to San Gregorio, and that the Signor Erne had come later, 
 had inquired where they were gone, and had followed them. 
 
 There was certainly nothing unusual nor even reprehensible 
 in this; but with Lady Dorchester's words still ringing in her 
 ears, Mrs. Falconer felt a sense of irritation. "Lionel really 
 ought to consider ! " she found herself thinking, as she went 
 to her chamber. But by the time she had laid aside her wraps 
 and changed her dress, the sense of irritation had given way 
 to amusement at the thought of expecting Lionel to consider. 
 "That is for me to do," she said to herself. 
 
 She had time enough for reflection before the trio returned. 
 And there were several points upon which to reflect. In the first 
 place, did she "wish the matter to become serious"? Almost 
 without hesitation, she replied in the negative her knowledge 
 having greatly increased since the time she had conceived snch a 
 plan in Paris. She knew now that the cleverness which Erne 
 possessed was like the flicker of a taper beside the electric flash 
 of genius in Irene, and that there could be no prospect of happi- 
 ness where so great a disparity existed. " Of course he is des- 
 perately in love, poor fellow ! that is only natural," she thought. 
 " But I can not believe that there is any danger for her. The 
 only ground for it that could possibly exist is the fact of her being 
 so closely thrown with him. Some people think that love is alto- 
 gether a matter of propinquity. It is certainly so in great measure, 
 and I may have been wrong in permitting the propinquity in this 
 case. What would Mr. Stanhope say? I am afraid he would 
 believe that I have betrayed my trust, and attempted the match- 
 making which he condemned. The more I think of it the more 
 I see that Lady Dorchester is right. I must end the constant 
 association and, in order to do so, I must introduce Irene into 
 society. I hardly like to take the responsibility of the step with-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 187 
 
 out consulting Mr. Stanhope but, since he chooses to remain 
 away, I am obliged to act as I believe to be best. I can not wait 
 to hear the opinion of a man in Africa." 
 
 The man in Africa would probably have smiled had he heard 
 the tone in which this was uttered for Mrs. Falconer uncon- 
 sciously spoke the last words aloud. The sound of her own voice 
 startled her in the large, silent room, and she said nothing more, 
 but, leaning back in her chair, watched the firelight shining on 
 the rich silk hangings, the pictures and bric-d-brac which trans- 
 formed an ordinary Roman apartment into a drawing room of 
 distinctive taste and luxury. This radiance brightened as the 
 sunset glow burned slowly out and twilight gathered in the far- 
 ther end of the room. Presently voices were heard, then the 
 door opened and a slender black-clad figure crossed the floor into 
 the circle of flickering light. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Falconer, I hope you have had a pleasant day," 
 said Irene, bending down to touch a soft, flushed cheek with cool, 
 fresh lips. " We have seen a great many beautiful things this 
 afternoon, and I have brought you some violets from the garden 
 of Santa Silvia." 
 
 " They are very fragrant," said Mrs. Falconer, putting up her 
 hand to take the violets. "Ah, Lionel, is that you? Antonio 
 told me that you followed the signora and signorina." 
 
 " Yes, and met them luckily on the steps of San Gregorio," 
 said Erne, with the air of one whose conscience was wholly at 
 rest. " I wanted them to see the view from the Villa Mattei 
 while they were in that neighborhood." 
 
 "It was glorious!" said Irene, in a voice like a chord of 
 music. " I think I like it better than any other view of the Cam- 
 pagna. And then we went to drive." 
 
 "I did not see you on the Pincio," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " No ; we drove out over the Campagna." 
 
 A few more "words were exchanged, when Irene left the room 
 to lay aside her wraps, and then Mrs. Falconer said to her cousin : 
 
 "Don't go, Lionel. I have something to say to you. Sit 
 down there " she pointed to a chair opposite her own" I want 
 you to tell me how much your knowledge of art has improved in 
 Rome this winter."
 
 188 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 It scarcely needed the expression of her eyes and tone to con- 
 vey her meaning. The question in itself was sufficiently signifi- 
 cant, and she saw that the young man flushed as he replied : 
 
 "I hope that my knowledge has improved considerably, 
 though my achievement has certainly not heen great." 
 
 "Then, my dear Lionel, don't you think that it would be well 
 to devote a little more time to achievement? " she asked. 
 
 " I suppose," said he, with the flush still on his face, " that 
 you mean I am here too much." 
 
 "No," she answered, "I do not mean that you are here too 
 much for you know that you are always welcome. But I do 
 mean that you are with Irene too much." 
 
 "And what then? " asked he. " Have I broken my word to 
 you? Have I said a word to her that you that the whole world 
 might not hear ? " 
 
 "I have no reason to believe that you have," she answered. 
 " But you and I too, for that matter have forgotten that your 
 constant attendance on her must be observed and remarked, and 
 that it is not well for any girl to be compromised by such atten- 
 tions." 
 
 "Oh," said he, sarcastically, "you have become the mouth- 
 piece of Mrs. Grnndy ; you are thinking of the absurd figments of 
 propriety." 
 
 " I am most certainly thinking of them," she replied, more 
 severely than she had spoken before, " and, whatever you may 
 think of them, I do not intend that they shall be violated with 
 regard to any one under my care. I repeat that you have been 
 seen in public too much with Irene, and that your attendance so 
 frequently must cease." 
 
 There was silence for a moment, and the heart of Mrs. Grun- 
 dy's mouth-piece melting within her as she saw the downcast 
 look on the handsome young face, she was about to soften the 
 severity of her words, when Erne spoke : 
 
 "Of course I must bow to your decision, though I am sorry 
 very sorry for it will end the greatest pleasure that I have ever 
 enjoyed in my life. However, that is all that society, as at pres- 
 ent constituted, seems to exist for to end pleasure rather than 
 to create it.''
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 189 
 
 " I beg that you will not talk such nonsense," said his cousin, 
 coldly. "There is not a single law of society which does not rest 
 upon a basis of common sense. The world is not Arcadia. 
 Whether warranted or unwarranted, people will draw conclu- 
 sions from what they see." 
 
 " And what conclusion could justly be drawn in this case, save 
 the true one that Miss Lescar is the one woman in the world to 
 me ? My infatuation has reached such a point that I would as 
 soon proclaim it from the house-tops as not." 
 
 " But you are not the only person concerned," said she, gently. 
 "It may not matter what is said of you, but you will agree with 
 me that Irene should be shielded from the possibility of the sort 
 of comment which only injures a girl." 
 
 "But she knows no one she is not in society; how, then, in 
 the name of Heaven, can the fact that I accompany her to a few 
 galleries and churches and ruins excite comment? I thought 
 that the presence of a chaperon was enough to propitiate Mrs. 
 Grundy." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer did not acknowledge how nearly this had been 
 her own opinion; she only said: "There is no good in discussing 
 the matter. It has excited comment aud therefore it must end. 
 You see we are not mere wandering tourists ; and Anglo-Eoman 
 society is not so large that a girl so striking as Irene can re- 
 main unobserved. Indeed, she has been so much observed that 
 I feel it necessary to introduce her into society quietly, of 
 course." 
 
 " In other words," said Erne, rising to his feet and standing 
 by the mantel straight and tall, " you mean that our pleasant in- 
 tercourse of the last three months is to end." 
 
 " To end no : to be restricted yes," she answered. " You 
 must remember that I have several tilings to consider. I must 
 think of Irene herself. It is not just to her to throw her so con- 
 stantly, so wholly with you." 
 
 " You may spare yourself any anxiety on that score," he said. 
 " She has never given me a thought. The wildest vanity could 
 not misinterpret her manner. Nor have I ever tried to draw a 
 look or word of interest from her. I have scrupulously kept my 
 promise given to you in Paris."
 
 190 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " I do not doubt it," she said, " and I am sure I have trusted 
 you unreservedly." 
 
 " Why, then, begin to distrust me now? " 
 
 " Have I expressed the least distrust ? Pray be reasonable ; 
 pray think a little of my responsibility ! As a matter of fact, I 
 ought to consider you as well as Irene; for, by your own ac- 
 count, you are simply encouraging a hopeless passion." 
 
 He made a gesture signifying that that was a matter of no im- 
 portance. " You need not consider me," he said. " I am willing 
 to take all risks. And I warn you that, if you end our association 
 and take her into society, I shall not hold myself any longer bound 
 by my promise to you. Other men will then meet her without 
 such restriction, and I must do so too." 
 
 "Very well," said his cousin. "Then you must only expect 
 such opportunities as are afforded to other men. I can not trust 
 an avowed enemy as if he were a friend." 
 
 "But why consider me as an enemy? " asked he, and uncon- 
 sciously, as it seemed, he drew a step nearer to her. " What ob- 
 jection could you have if the impossible were to come to pass 
 if I could win her to look kindly on me? " 
 
 "My dear Lionel," she answered, touched as what woman 
 would not have been ? by this sudden appeal, " what objection, 
 indeed, could I have? But I have no voice in the matter. Irene, 
 yon know, is simply intrusted to me by her guardian " 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, throwing back his head and shoulders ab- 
 ruptly. " And he would not approve ! But that has no weight 
 with me. I hold his opinion at less than a farthing's value, and I 
 would tell him so without hesitation. For, why should he ob- 
 ject, unless and that I have suspected for some time he wishes 
 to marry her himself ? " 
 
 " Lionel, you must know that is absurd ! " 
 
 "Absurd, is it?" said the young man. "I fail to see why. 
 You must know that Mr. Stanhope's age makes his guard- 
 ianship ridiculous. Why, then, should Madame Lescar have 
 given him the charge, or he accepted it, but for such an 
 end ? " 
 
 " So, having nobody else to be jealous of, you have absolutely 
 transformed Mr. Stanhope into a rival ! " said she. " If your sus-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 191 
 
 picions are correct, why should there be any mystery ? why 
 should he be in Algiers and not here ? " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. " How can I tell ? But time 
 will show whether or not my suspicions, as you call them, are 
 correct. Meanwhile, I give you fair warning that, if there is a 
 chance for me, I shall spare no effort to take it." 
 
 "And I shall govern myself accordingly," said she, smiling. 
 "Now we may consider everything said that need be said. 
 Will you stay to dinner ? or is it war to the knife ? " 
 
 "I thought you probably intended to forbid me the house," 
 said he, smiling also. 
 
 " Not at all," she replied. "You are much too useful as well 
 as too agreeable. I only desire you not to join Irene and Aunt 
 Marion again. When I think it well for you to accompany us on 
 any of our expeditions, I will ask you myself." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THEEE is not a more charming spot in the "world than the 
 Pincian Hill on a bright winter, or, better still, a soft spring 
 afternoon. There are many more extensive promenades in Eu- 
 rope, but where is there one which from a height so noble over- 
 looks a scene so fair? Who that has ever stood on that outlying 
 terrace, with its massive balustrade of stone, can forget the pict- 
 ure spread before the gaze the soft-toned city, with her pal- 
 aces, cupolas, and towers lying below ; the noble outlines of that 
 dome which Michael Angelo lifted high in air; the majestic angel 
 sheathing his sword on the castle which was once the tomb of 
 Hadrian ; the Campagna stretching afar to meet the silver line of 
 the sea; the frame of purple hills that in all other directions 
 bounds the wide expanse ? It is a picture which imprints itself 
 not only on the memory but on the heart, and remains there 
 through all lapse of time, all change of seasons. 
 
 And on such afternoons it is a bright scene which the prome- 
 nade itself displays. A stream of carriages fills its broad road- 
 way, and among the throng of pedestrians there are many pictur- 
 esque contrasts of dress and appearance. For, though deprived,
 
 192 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 for the present, of her distinctive character degraded, as far as 
 possible, from her proud position as the capital of Christendom 
 to the capital of a kingdom founded on force and fraud Eome is 
 still unlike any other city of the world, for thither still come the 
 pilgrims of all nations and all tribes to lay their offerings at the 
 feet of Christ's Vicar, to pay to the royal prisoner of the Vatican 
 such homage of love and fealty as no other sovereign on earth 
 can command. And on the Pincian Hill these mingle with eager 
 sight-seeing tourists, with the fashionable foreign element which 
 follows its narrow social orbit in complacent self-satisfaction here 
 as elsewhere, with artists, scholars, poets drawn from all parts of 
 the earth by the charm of this Eternal City, with quiet priests 
 and grave prelates, with students from the great religious col- 
 leges, whose robes make a gleam of bright color as they file 
 around the winding road. 
 
 The band was playing, the sunshine streaming, the crowd at 
 its greatest, when Lady Dorchester's carriage drew up in front of 
 the Piazzale on the afternoon following her conversation with Mrs. 
 Falconer. Leaning back under the shade of a heavily fringed 
 parasol, her eyes passed over the faces near her, and presently 
 fell on a young, distinguished-looking man, to whom she bowed 
 and then held out her hand as he approached the carriage. 
 
 " I am delighted to see you back in Eome, my dear count," 
 she said. " When did you return ? " 
 
 "Only within a few days past," answered the gentleman, who 
 spoke English perfectly, but with a slight accent which betrayed 
 that it was not his native tongue. " My uncle's illness detained 
 me longer than I expected." 
 
 " It must have been a very severe illness. I am glad to see 
 favorable accounts of his recovery." 
 
 " More favorable than exact, I fear. Though he has a strong 
 constitution, this attack has shaken it, and he does not regain 
 strength rapidly. His physicians are urging him to go to Nice or 
 Cannes for a month or two." 
 
 " And he will do so, of course ? " 
 
 " Not if he can possibly avoid it. He is anxious to resume his 
 public duties ; but I think he will find himself obliged to yield to 
 advice."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 193 
 
 " It is always best in the end, I am sure, though no doubt it is 
 hard for Prince Waldegrave to believe so. At all events I am 
 glad that he is better, and glad to see you back among us, though 
 you hardly deserve that I should say so." 
 
 " "Why do I not deserve it ? " asked he, smiling. " What have 
 I done?" 
 
 "What have you not left undone in a social way? Yet 
 society is very agreeable in Eome this winter." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, and I shall begin at once to atone for my 
 misdemeanors as far as may be. In consideration of such good 
 intentions, will you who know everybody worth knowing tell 
 me who is the beautiful girl in the carriage just beyond you ? " 
 
 Lady Dorchester looked around, bowed, and turned back, 
 smiling as she did so. 
 
 " That beautiful girl," she said, " is just now the most admired 
 person in Rome. Have you ever seen more perfect blending of 
 lines and tints with spiritual expression? It is the head ot a 
 Muse. Artists and sculptors are raving over her." 
 
 " I do not wonder at that," said the young Count. " It is a 
 singularly rare and noble type of beauty. But you have not yet 
 told me who she is." 
 
 "An American. Nay don't look so disappointed! There 
 are Americans and Americans. For example, the lady by whom 
 this beauty is sitting, and whom you have not noticed, though she 
 well deserves notice, is English by marriage but American in 
 everything else, and there is not a more charming woman in 
 Home. She is young, she has the delicate loveliness of her coun- 
 try, she is femme cPesprit, and immensely wealthy can you 
 imagine a more delightful combination ? " 
 
 " It would be difficult to do so ; yet I have a prejudice " He 
 paused, perhaps because his eye fell again on the face in the car- 
 riage beyond. " What is her name ? '' he asked, abruptly. 
 
 " Mrs. Falconer," answered Lady Dorchester. " Oh ! you mean 
 the Muse-like beauty? She is Miss Lescar ; very young, and in 
 mourning, as you pei'ceive ; so she has not appeared in society 
 at all. But Mrs. Falconer has half promised to bring her to my 
 reception on Wednesday evening, and, if you come, I will intro- 
 duce you." 
 
 9
 
 194: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "You are very kind. If I do not claim your promise, it will 
 only be because introductions are sometimes mistakes. That is 
 such an ideal face it is not likely that what it leads one to ex- 
 pect will be fulfilled." 
 
 " That depends, of course, upon what you expect," said Lady 
 Dorchester, "/have found that Miss Lescar corresponds very 
 well with her face. I do not believe that Nature ever misleads 
 one who knows how to read her signs, and such a countenance 
 as that is like the portico of a beautiful temple." 
 
 " The temple should be very beautiful indeed, if it is in har- 
 mony with the portico," said he, smiling. " I think, after that 
 comparison, I must enter and judge for myself." 
 
 " And I promise that you will not regret it," she replied. 
 
 It occurred to Count Waldegrave, after the speaker had driven 
 away, that such promises are rash, though he had no foreboding 
 of how rash this promise was to prove. The face that he had 
 first seen on the terrace of the Villa Mattel had disappeared ; so 
 its charm could not counteract his reluctance to exchange an ideal 
 for a reality which, ho felt sure, would suffer by the contrast. He 
 began to wish that he had made no inquiry with regard to the 
 poetic beauty. To be promised an introduction to an American 
 girl was certainly the last object he had in view in doing so. 
 
 From which it will be perceived that, like most people of 
 strong character, he was prejudiced, as he had acknowledged to 
 Lady Dorchester. Conservative in politics and an intense aristo- 
 crat in conviction as well as in feeling, he disliked America on 
 general principles, as he disliked all republican experiments of gov- 
 ernment or forms of society. There was probably also a personal 
 edge to this dislike, from the recollection of his uncle's first mar- 
 riage, of which he had himself known nothing, but which had 
 been represented to him by his father Prince Waldegrave's elder 
 brother as an act of consummate folly. He had rarely seen his 
 brilliant uncle until after this act of folly had been completely set 
 aside; but on the death of his father, Prince Waldegrave had 
 taken charge of him, and, as time went on, had given him the 
 place of a son in his house and heart. For, as he sometimes 
 thought, had he been granted a son, he could not have desired 
 him different from Otto, whose intellectual powers were seconded
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 195 
 
 by an ambition which promised to control his life as thoroughly 
 as the same passion had controlled that of Prince Waldegrave 
 himself. Placed early in the diplomatic service, he was already 
 distinguished as much by his ability as by his name and connec- 
 tion. The usual follies of youth had played but a small part in 
 his career. Fired, no doubt, by his uncle's rapid elevation, his 
 heart had from childhood been set on high and stern pursuits. 
 And he was no dreamer. He knew that the price of greatness is 
 always, in one form or another, " to scorn delights and live labo- 
 rious days," and he was ready to pay that price. An intense 
 student, a clear thinker, with a nature for which frivolities pos- 
 sessed no attraction, he had avoided those shoals and quicksands 
 on which many a life of fair promise has been wrecked ; and there 
 was a mingling of austerity and poetry in his character which had 
 so far rendered him insensible to the charms of women. Perhaps 
 nothing about his nephew gave Prince Waldegrave greater satis- 
 faction than this insensibility. "No woman will ever blind 
 Aim/" he had said to himself more than once with grim pleasure. 
 
 And now it was a woman's face which floated before the 
 young man's fancy as he walked along the Pincio, with all the 
 soft sights and sounds of spring around him. "Wheels were flash- 
 ing by, voices mingling in every form of civilized speech, fount- 
 ains were rising and falling as if keeping time to the strains of 
 music ; the marble busts of poets, heroes, and statesmen looked 
 with serene gravity from their pedestals at the motley throng 
 which filled the avenues ; overhead arched the same deep-blue Eo- 
 man sky that smiled upon the gardens of Lucullus on this Pincian 
 Hill ; and afar beyond St. Peter's the sun was going down into a 
 great bed of glory. Count Waldegrave, if not a social favorite, 
 was at least a marked person in society; so he had to pay his 
 respects at other carriages besides that of Lady Dorchester, to re- 
 ceive many congratulations on his uncle's recovery, and acknowl- 
 edge many gracious speeches about his own return until at length, 
 weary of these civilities, he left the neighborhood of the crowd and 
 wandered away in the direction of the Muro-Torto, that strange 
 fragment of ancient wall, which for fourteen centuries has seemed 
 about to fall, yet remains immovable. 
 
 Standing here by the parapet, in comparative solitude, he
 
 196 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 looked afar, over the intervening space of the Campagna, to the 
 blue heights which began to wear their softest evening lights and 
 shades aerial hills, borrowing tints from the sky into which they 
 melted with many an exquisite rise and fall of outline, while the 
 wide plain at their feet seemed swimming in light. The atmos- 
 phere was full of charm the mingled charm of spring and Italy. 
 What is there in this enchanted air which seems to suggest all the 
 passion and romance with which it has throbbed ? Delicate, 
 subtile, yet of exceeding sweetness, it stirs the current of the cold- 
 est blood, fires the most slugglish imagination. As a waft of 
 fragrance floated up from a cluster of violets that hung on his 
 coat, Waldegrave felt as if he appreciated for the first time the 
 full spell of Italy as if all the glory of her past and the beauty 
 of her present, melting into one wonderful whole, were suffused 
 with golden light, like the plain below him, and made the back- 
 ground for a face fair as the dream of some artist under the sky 
 of Hellas. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MES. FALCONER'S doubt whether IrSne could be induced to ap- 
 pear at Lady Dorchester's reception proved well founded. Though 
 not absolutely refusing to do so, the girl evinced so much reluc- 
 tance that it was impossible to press the point. 
 
 " Since you object so much, I will not insist," Mrs. Falconer 
 said ; " I can only assure you that I would not have proposed such 
 a thing without a reason. It is not mere caprice on my part." 
 
 "I never thought that it was," IrSne answered; "and if you 
 insist, I will go ; but, if your reason is not very important, I shall 
 be glad to be spared. It seems so short a time my mourning is 
 so fresh " 
 
 " My dear child," Mrs. Falconer hastened to say, " I should not 
 have thought of proposing any but the quietest mode of going out. 
 Lady Dorchester is simply at home to her friends, and we drop in 
 and take a cup of tea that is all. Society in any gay sense I 
 never dreamed of for you." 
 
 " Even that is more than I feel inclined to face," said the girl.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 197 
 
 "If you wish, I will appear on the evenings when you are quietly 
 at home ; but I can not do more yet." 
 
 " That will do," said Mrs. Falconer, kissing her. " I shall be 
 satisfied with that." 
 
 Lady Dorchester was not satisfied, however, when the speaker 
 made her appearance without the promised attraction and she 
 expressed her disappointment very frankly. " "Why did you not 
 bring her nolens nolens ? " she asked. " She would soon have 
 found that our festivity is of the mildest order. And now, you 
 see, 1 am forsworn for I have promised an introduction to 
 her." 
 
 " My dear Lady Dorchester, that was very rash, since I spoke 
 doubtfully of the probability of bringing her." 
 
 "But I felt sure that you would and the man to whom I 
 promised it is one whom I never heard express any interest or 
 curiosity about a woman before : so I thought he ought to be en- 
 couraged. I shall present him to you instead, and you can invite 
 him to your receptions, and perhaps let him meet Miss Lescar." 
 
 "May I ask who he is?" 
 
 " Count Waldegrave nephew of Prince Waldegrave. He is 
 attached to his embassy here, but has been out of Rome for a 
 month or more in attendance on his nncle, who as no doubt 
 you have observed from the newspapers has been very ill." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Falconer, in vague assent. "Worldly training 
 had seldom stood her in better stead than at that moment. She 
 had a sense of being mentally knocked down, which almost made 
 her catch her breath. Count "Waldegrave ! It seemed incredible 
 that he, of all men, should be seeking, desiring an introduction to 
 Irene! "Thank Heaven, she did not cornel " was her first col- 
 lected thought. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lady Dorchester had gone on talking. "A very 
 attractive man," she was saying, " and immensely clever, but cold 
 as an iceberg. One sees that ambition is his ruling passion." 
 
 " What else could be expected of the nephew of his uncle? " 
 asked Mrs. Falconer, who had by this time recovered the power 
 of speech. " ' Since he, misnamed the Morning Star, 1 I doubt if 
 any one has surpassed Prince "Waldegrave in that respect." 
 
 "Probably not; but it has made him a great man."
 
 198 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Pardon me," said Mrs. Falconer, "I think that his ability 
 has made him a great man ; his ambition has only made him an 
 unscrupulous one." 
 
 " A nice distinction," said the other, smiling. " But, however 
 that may be, Count "Waldegrave is the nephew of his uncle in 
 ability as well as ambition. You, who have such a penchant for 
 clever men, will like him." 
 
 " I hardly think so," replied Mrs. Falconer, gravely. Then, after 
 an instant's pause, she asked, "How is it that such a man has 
 sought to know a girl not yet in society ? " 
 
 " He has not sought to know her," answered Lady Dorchester. 
 "He was struck by her beauty as who is not? on the Pincio, a 
 day or two ago, and asked me who she was. As I have said, I never 
 heard him express any curiosity about a woman before, so I vol- 
 unteered to introduce him to her to-night. Ah ! " she lifted her 
 eye-glass " here he comes. I shall shift the odium of my broken 
 word to your shoulders." 
 
 This she at once proceeded to do when Count Waldegrave 
 came up. 
 
 "I am sorry that I am not able to fulfill the promise which I 
 made to you on the Pincio," she said, after shaking hands with 
 him. "It is not my fault, however, but that of Mrs. Falconer 
 to whom allow me to present you, with the hope that you will re- 
 proach her as she deserves." 
 
 "Lady Dorchester tells me that she promised to introduce you 
 to Miss Lescar," said Mrs. Falconer, looking keenly into the face 
 before her. " I regret that I should have misled her into imagin- 
 ing that Miss Lescar would be here to-night. But I can not con- 
 sent to bear the responsibility of her absence. She herself declined 
 to come. She is in mourning for her mother." 
 
 She spoke the last words deliberately, with her eyes still fixed 
 on Count "Waldegrave's face, desiring, if possible, to surprise any 
 expression that should betray whether Irene's name had wakened 
 the recollection of his uncle's discarded wife. But, as it had not 
 done so as he was, indeed, ignorant of the name of a woman to 
 whom he had not for years given a thought his face expressed 
 no more interest than courtesy demanded, and Mrs. Falconer said 
 to herself that he was either endowed with a countenance which
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 199 
 
 would be of inestimable value in diplomacy, or that the name had 
 no significance to his ears. 
 
 " I regret that I am not to have the pleasure of meeting Miss 
 Lescar," he said. " Bat Lady Dorchester prepared me for a pos- 
 sible disappointment, by telling me that she had not appeared in 
 society." 
 
 " And it is fortunate that I should have given my promise to 
 one capable of meeting disappointment with so much philosophy," 
 said Lady Dorchester. " I doubt if there is another man in Eomo 
 who, under the circumstances, would not be ready to anathema- 
 tize me." 
 
 " Then you should be glad that philosophy is the strong point 
 of a ' larbaro TedescJioJ instead of being unkindly sarcastic," said 
 Waldegrave, smiling. " I can not imagine the circumstances which 
 would lead me to be guilty of anathematizing you ; but my disap- 
 pointment is perhaps more severe than you suppose. No one 
 could see Miss Lescar without being struck by her remarkable 
 beauty," he added, turning to Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 "It is almost unfortunately remarkable," replied that lady. 
 "In Rome, at least, it is impossible for her to escape constant 
 notice and admiration. You know the open homage Italians pay 
 to beauty." 
 
 " I think it charming," said Lady Dorchester. " I should like 
 a beggar to bless God for having made my face, as I heard one 
 do, not long ago, when Miss Lescar passed him on a church-step." 
 
 "I am sure if he had entertained the least suspicion of your 
 desire, or of how efficacious it would probably prove in the matter 
 ofcentesimi, he would have done so," said "Waldegrave. 
 
 " Then it would have had no spontaneity, and consequently no 
 value. No, no an Italian is too shrewd to attempt to blind a 
 middle-aged Englishwoman with such palpable flattery. But it 
 was a genuine tribute to that exquisite face of Miss Lescar's of 
 which, by-the-by, I heard M. Villefort say the other day that it 
 is the true artist physiognomy ' at once intellectual and impas- 
 sioned.' " 
 
 " She has the artist temperament," said Mrs. Falconer. " There 
 is an echo of it in her singing." 
 
 " The most divine voice ! " said Lady Dorchester to Walde-
 
 200 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 grave. " I hoped we should have heai'd that to-night. But dis- 
 appointment, no doubt, is good for man and woman also." 
 
 As she moved away, Waldegrave looked at Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " I am by no means sure that disappointment is good for man," 
 he said. " At least, I fail to recognize its excellence in such a case 
 as the present." 
 
 " We generally fail to recognize what is good for us when it 
 comes in a disagreeable guise," she answered meeting his gaze 
 with eyes so full of gravity that he was struck by their expres- 
 sion. " Yet I doubt if there is any one whose experience can not 
 furnish examples of happily unfulfilled desires." 
 
 "There is no question of that," he replied; "but such ex- 
 amples never reconcile one to the unfulfillment of fresh desires." 
 
 " Then one is a poor philosopher; and you have just said that 
 philosophy is your strong point." 
 
 " You are probably aware that to talk of philosophy is one 
 thing, to practice it quite another." 
 
 "I can not imagine that they are very different things with 
 yon," she answered, smiling slightly. 
 
 Then she turned from him to speak to an acquaintance who 
 came toward her, and he found himself wondering what it meant. 
 Plainly, he was advised to be satisfied with his disappointment, 
 and believe that it was for the best. But why ? What possible 
 reason was there why he should not desire to know Miss Lescar 
 a desire which Lady Dorchester had intimated was shared by 
 many other men in Rome? There could be no doubt that up to 
 the last moment he had been conscious of that disinclination to 
 exchange the ideal for the real, which he had confessed on the 
 Pincio; but this fanciful hesitation vanished before a tangible 
 obstacle ; and according to a rule which is universal in its appli- 
 cation to human nature whether philosophical or unphilosoph- 
 ical difficulty sensibly quickened desire. 
 
 There was, however, nothing more to be said to Mrs. Falconer, 
 round whom her special friends were gathering. The rooms 
 were filled with all that was best in Roman society, for Lady 
 Dorchester, no more than Mrs. Falconer, cared to open her salon 
 solely to her own country-people. "If I wanted English society 
 pure and simple, what would prevent my staying in England to
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 201 
 
 enjoy it? " she said. "When I come abroad, it is for something 
 else." The something else was here in force all the picturesque 
 mingling of nationalities which makes Rome unique and there 
 was no lack of cordial welcome on all sides for Count Waldegrave. 
 
 "I saw you talking to Mrs. Falconer," said an attache of the 
 English embassy to him presently. " A charming woman with 
 one of the pleasantest salons in Rome. The talk in her drawing- 
 room is always good one hears the best of the brilliant things 
 that are floating about in this Roman atmosphere. It is neutral 
 ground where all free lances have a tilt at each other, and where 
 Philistines and votaries of the Higher Cult may shake hands. 
 You'll like it," he ended, with much the same words Lady Dor- 
 chester had used when assuring Mrs. Falconer that she would like 
 Count Waldegrave. 
 
 "Perhaps so," the latter answered, "but I am not likely to 
 present myself without an invitation, and Mrs. Falconer has not 
 given me that." 
 
 " Oh, she overlooked it, no doubt," the other said. " She is 
 exclusive in her own way. Rank and wealth have no effect with 
 her ; but she adores cleverness, and I am sure you would prove a 
 congenial spirit." 
 
 " There was nothing to evoke congeniality in our conversa- 
 tion," said Waldegrave, smiling. 
 
 But, although he smiled, he felt that he had been treated with 
 distinct discouragement by Mrs. Falconer, and it was a sensation 
 which surprised far more than it piqued him. What could be the 
 meaning of it ? he asked himself once more. What had he said or 
 done, or left unsaid or undone? Had his desire to know Miss 
 Lescar in preference to herself wounded that vanity which is the 
 weak point of many a woman? The recollection of her grave 
 glance, full of serious meaning, seemed to disprove this conjecture. 
 He did her no more than justice in recognizing that pettiness of 
 the kind was impossible to one whose countenance expressed so 
 much that was at once sweet and noble. 
 
 The woman of whom he thought thus was meanwhile not a 
 little disturbed in mind by what seemed to her a singular freak of 
 fate. That Count Waldegrave should be seeking, desiring to know 
 Irene, was almost incredible yet, since it was true, the question
 
 202 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 arose, what was her best course of action ? If Irene appeared in 
 society at all, could she avoid meeting him ? And could she (Mrs. 
 Falconer), without any apparent reason whatever, close her door 
 in his face ? These reflections made an undertone to all that went 
 on around her ; and when she found herself at home, presented 
 themselves in the light of problems to be solved. As she sat 
 before her dressing-table, gazing between tall candles into the 
 mirror, while her maid combed out the soft masses of her hair, it 
 was with eyes that hardly saw her own image, so much was her 
 mind occupied. 
 
 For there were many things to be taken into consideration, 
 she said to herself. One was Irene's peculiar character. She had 
 not forgotten the glimpse given at Madame Lescar's death of the 
 passionate bitterness with which the girl regarded her father; she 
 dreaded for her anything which should rouse this feeling, and 
 what could rouse it more than the sight of -Prince Waldegrave's 
 adopted son? All the outraged, impotent sense of wrong would 
 rush back upon the nature which grief had softened but certainly 
 not subdued. Yet how to prevent such a meeting ? There was 
 the policy of seclusion ; but in that case she must incur the re- 
 sponsibility of subjecting a girl who, after all, might prove to 
 be like other girls to the constant society of a young, not unat- 
 tractive man who was deeply in love with her. And love in itself 
 is a potent attraction provided that the man who offers it is not 
 positively disagreeable to the woman whom he loves, and that she 
 has an unoccupied heart. Tossed on the horns of this dilemma, 
 Mrs. Falconer breathed a sigh so deep that it startled her sleepy 
 maid into alert attention, and made her suspect that her mistress 
 was the victim of some malady of the heart. Meeting her quick, 
 sharp glance in the mirror, the mistress smiled. 
 
 " That will do, Mathilde," she said, putting up her hand to her 
 hair. " I will go to bed now." 
 
 But going to bed and going to sleep were different things, for 
 the tormenting questions banished slumber from her pillow. 
 " Shall I write to Mr. Stanhope? " she asked herself as a last re- 
 source from perplexity ; but the recollection of the length of time 
 necessary for a reply seemed to negative this. She had heard 
 from him several times during the winter, and in his last letter he
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 203 
 
 had spoken of going on an expedition into the Atlas Mountains 
 so there was no telling when a letter would reach him. She must 
 therefore arrive at a decision unaided by his advice. And finally, 
 after much reflection, she did so. 
 
 " I will tell Ir&ne," she thought, " and let her decide whether 
 or not she will run the risk of meeting Count Waldegrave. She 
 has a right to do so. And if, as I fear, it would be deeply painful 
 to her, I would rather leave Rome than subject her to it." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer woke the next morning it was with that 
 weight upon the mind which tells at once of something unpleas- 
 ant either past or impending. And with the full return of con- 
 sciousness she remembered that, in this case, it was both past and 
 impending. But, although a decision arrived at by night is often 
 changed under the light of the morning, she felt no inclination to 
 change that at which she had arrived. Had Stanhope been con- 
 veniently at hand, she would certainly have deferred the matter 
 to his decision ; but, since he had chosen to convey himself into 
 the wilds of Algeria, she was forced to do what seemed to her the 
 next best thing leave it to Irene, whom assuredly it altogether 
 concerned. 
 
 Having taken her coffee in her own room as usual, she sent 
 her maid to ask Miss Lescar to come to her. A minute later the 
 door opened, and Irne entered. She was dressed for walking 
 and something in her appearance and manner suggested all the 
 freshness and sweetness of the spring. The heavy lassitude of 
 grief had passed, and the elastic step, the bright, clear glance 
 unconsciously reflected the divine joyousness of awakening nat- 
 ure. Despite her black draperies, she looked like a nymph, 
 whose longing was for wild woodland haunts, and upland sweeps 
 of breezy hills. 
 
 " You are going out, I see," said Mrs. Falconer. " Where ? 
 and with whom? " 
 
 "Oh, the morning seemed too exquisite to spend in the 
 house ; so I was on my way to beg Mrs. Vance to come with me
 
 204: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 for a turn on the Pincio, when Mathilde gave me your message," 
 the girl answered. " But it is not a matter of any importance 
 whether I go or not." 
 
 " Yes it is, if you wish to go. It is true I want to talk to 
 you ; but our desires may be reconciled if you do not mind ac- 
 cepting me for a companion instead of Aunt Marion ? " 
 
 " I shall be delighted," was the quick reply. " I often feel 
 that our lives are so separated now that I see so little of you." 
 
 "That," said Mrs. Falconer, "is a necessity of our different 
 modes of life; but I hope they will not be so different after 
 awhile, for I regret the separation as much as you do. We will 
 go this morning to the Pincio, however, and enjoy the delicious 
 air and sunshine together. Will you ring for Mathilde ? " 
 
 Mathilde appeared and equipped her mistress for walking. 
 Then the two ladies went out, and were soon following the wind- 
 ing road which leads to the top of the Pincian. At this hour the 
 promenade was almost deserted. There were no carriages and 
 few pedestrians visible only some nurses in picturesque Alba- 
 nese costume, with their small charges; two or three intrepid- 
 looking Englishwomen in sealskin jackets, a priest seated on a 
 bench reading his breviary, a couple of loitering artists leaning 
 over the balustrade of the great terrace. It was, as Irene had 
 said, a day of exquisite beauty. The air seemed sparkling with 
 sunshine, and contained an exhilarating qualify which recalled 
 Shelley's words when he spoke of "the effect of the awaken- 
 ing spring in that divinest climate, the new life with which it 
 drenches the spirit even to intoxication." The historic city 
 seemed glittering with light over all her myriad domes, her tow- 
 ers, and palaces ; the majestic curve of St. Peter's rose against a 
 dazzling infinity of sky ; the girdling Campagna was full of inde- 
 scribable color, changing from delicate green in the foreground to 
 marvelous shades of blue and purple afar, where it met the hills 
 robed in azure and wrapped in tender haze, through which 
 gleamed here and there the crest of some snow-clad peak. 
 
 "How divine they are those hills!" said Mrs. Falconer. 
 "Now that spring has come, we must make some excursions into 
 them. Should you not like that?" 
 
 The girl's face answered for her. " Of late I have never looked
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 205 
 
 at them without desiring it," she said. " They seem to invite, to 
 beckon one it is like the song of the sirens. I don't know how 
 it is possible for any one to resist their invitation." 
 
 " We will not," said Mrs. Falconer. "And so much that is 
 interesting lies hidden there, of which the multitude of people 
 around us English and Americans who fancy themselves'cultured, 
 and who spend their time in lounging on the Pincian and the 
 Corso, in visiting at one another's houses, in buying cameos and 
 perhaps riding on the Campagna know no more than they do of 
 the Rome that lies beyond the Piazza di Spagna. Perhaps I have 
 no right to be scornful of them, for I have been very much living 
 their life this winter though I hope with an idea or two outside 
 of it but we will leave it all behind and plunge into Italy, the 
 real Italy which those blue hills still guard, and which has not yet 
 been ruthlessly plowed up in the name of civilization which here, 
 at least, under the present regime, is a term for barbarism worse 
 than that of the Goths." 
 
 " Bien dit ! " said Irene. " And when shall we go ? " 
 
 " "We will begin a series of excursions as soon as the spring is 
 fairly open, and Mr. Stanhope comes." 
 
 " But when will he come ? " 
 
 "Ah, who can say? He may wander away into the interior 
 of Africa and be heard of no more for a year or so. But in 
 that case we will not wait for him, but will make the best of 
 Lionel." 
 
 " What a shame to speak so of Mr. Erne! " said Irene, with a 
 smile. "It is very ungrateful, after having made the best of him 
 all winter." 
 
 "Yes, he has been very useful," said Mrs. Falconer. "But 
 here is a quiet place shall we sit down ? " 
 
 It was on the north side of the hill. They had turned into a 
 path screened by shrubbery from the road, and bounded on the 
 other side by the parapet which guards the precipice where it 
 drops in sheer descent more than a hundred feet to the grounds 
 of the Villa Borghese. Mrs. Falconer sat down on a bench, and 
 made room for Irene beside her. As the girl obeyed the gesture, 
 she was struck by the expression of the face which a large para- 
 sol shaded without concealing.
 
 203 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Falconer," she said, quickly, "has anything oc- 
 curred to annoy you ? " 
 
 " Have I betrayed it? " asked Mrs. Falconer, smiling slightly. 
 " You are a close observer. Yes, I have been annoyed a little 
 not very seriously. And about you." 
 
 " About me ! What have I done ? " 
 
 " What have you done ? My dear child, nothing at all ! How 
 could you imagine that you had done anything? I said that I was 
 annoyed about, not with, you." 
 
 "But how is that possible, unless in some way I am to blame ? " 
 
 " Because another person is concerned in the matter. You are 
 certainly not accountable for what other people may say or do. 
 And it is not your fault that you are beautiful," she ended, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " I think I understand," said Irene, quietly ; and her brilliant 
 eyes met her companion's without a shade of wavering. " Mr. 
 Erne has been talking to you, has he not? " 
 
 " Has he been talking to you ? " asked Mrs. Falconer, not a 
 little startled by this unexpected question. 
 
 " In the way you mean not at all," the girl answered, with 
 the same composure. " But, of course, I should be blind if I did 
 not see that he fancies himself what is called ' in love ' with me. 
 I thought that perhaps he had spoken of it to yon, and that you 
 would tell him that I have no thought of such folly. It has no 
 place at all in my life." 
 
 She uttered the last words impatiently as one who wishes to 
 put aside an annoyance and hear' no more of it and Mrs. Falco- 
 ner was for a moment incapable of reply. The decision of 
 the speech did not surprise her more than the expression of the 
 proud young face for almost unconsciously the nostrils had 
 dilated, the delicate lips curved with scorn. 
 
 "I never thought," she said, presently, "that you were likely 
 to return Lionel's passion, but I have only allowed his constant 
 association with you under a pledge that he would not take ad- 
 vantage of it for love-making and I am glad that he has kept 
 it." 
 
 "Yes, he has kept it," said Irene, indifferently. "But words 
 amount to very little. And you need not have been afraid of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 207 
 
 love-making," she added, with the scornful curve again on her 
 lip. " I should have ended that very soon." 
 
 " Why ? " asked Mrs. Falconer, directly her curiosity as well 
 as her surprise excited. 
 
 "Why?" repeated the girl and now the composure vanished 
 from her face, and quick feeling flashed from every feature " be- 
 cause your cousin is nothing to me. And because there is no man 
 on the earth who could win my heart. I shall never marry. Not 
 from want of love for love means nothing to me but because I 
 have no recognized rank or name, and I have the most arrogant 
 spirit upon which the sun shines ; one to which the humiliation 
 that brands me is like an unceasing burn, and which will never 
 permit me either to take voluntarily a lower rank than that which 
 should be mine, or to allow a king to feel that he stooped to me." 
 
 " Irdne my dear child ! " said Mrs. Falconer. She was star- 
 tled yet not astonished by this glimpse of the fiery spirit. It was 
 like an echo, a confirmation of what she had been thinking the 
 night before. She had never been deceived by the girl's outward 
 composure and habitual gentleness; she had a glimpse once of 
 what lay beneath, and she had never forgotten it. 
 
 " Why should you think of these things ? " she asked. " What 
 do they matter? In yourself you are worthy of the highest love, 
 and if you should ever give it " 
 
 " I tell you that it is impossible," Ir&ne interrupted. " Do not 
 speak to me of such a thing. Apart from what I have said, it 
 seems to me the greatest curse that has been laid upon humanity 
 this passion that blinds people's eyes, that makes them commit 
 innumerable follies, that deprives one of one's freedom, and gives 
 to another the power to strike one to the heart ! I saw the result 
 once I saw my mother that is enough ! " 
 
 She rose quickly and walked away. Her hands were clasped 
 together; it was evident that she was quivering in every fiber 
 with the passionate force of feeling that had been aroused. 
 Mrs. Falconer looked after her with a sense of bewilderment. 
 What was to be made of such a nature as this? and what 
 would become of it? She thought of Madame Lescar, of her 
 fears, that had seemed exaggerated, of her solemn words of warn- 
 ing. Was not all that she had described, revealed here the
 
 208 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 tortured pride, the high ambition, the fierce, implacable resent- 
 ment? " Poor child! " she said to herself with a sense of compas- 
 sion, as she looked at the slender, black-clad figure standing by 
 the parapet, outlined against the wide, beautiful scene of sky 
 and plain and far mountains. 
 
 She made no motion to follow, but waited quietly until the 
 girl turned and came slowly back to her. The large eyes were 
 still shining in the pale face, but otherwise she had regained her 
 usual composure. She did not resume her seat, however, but 
 paused in front of Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said, " if I have said anything that I ought 
 not particularly anything that seemed unkind with regard to Mr. 
 Erne, whom I really like very much. But now you understand 
 me, and the subject need never be mentioned between us again." 
 
 "Whether I understand you or not," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 "you have very much misunderstood me. When I began to 
 speak, Lionel was not in my mind at all. It is impossible for 
 any one not to perceive that he is very much in love with you ; 
 but he has never, directly or indirectly, asked me to ascertain 
 your sentiments toward him. So much I must say injustice to 
 him." 
 
 "Of what of whom, then, were you talking?" asked Irene, 
 while a flush came into her cheeks. 
 
 " Not of any one who is in love with you you will be glad 
 to hear," said Mrs. Falconer, with a slight, grave smile "only of 
 some one who wishes to know you. Sit down again, and let me 
 tell you all about it." 
 
 Irene sat down without a word. She felt humiliated. How 
 ridiculous, how vain it looked to have anticipated Mrs. Falconer 
 in such a manner, and avowed her knowledge of what she waa 
 aware women are not supposed to know until they are told 1 
 
 "In the first place," said Mrs. Falconer, "I am glad you did 
 not go with me to Lady Dorchester's last night. She expressed 
 great regret that you did not appear, not only on her own account, 
 but because she had promised to introduce to you a man who had 
 seen you, and been struck with your beauty. There are many 
 men, no doubt, who have been so struck, but this man proved to 
 be Count Waldegrave."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 209 
 
 " Mrs. Falconer !" The words were a gasp, and the girl 
 drew back as one might from the touch of a serpent. 
 
 "Probably you do not know who he is," Mrs. Falconer went 
 on, quietly. " He is your cousin, and the adopted son of Prince 
 Waldegrave. He is attached to his embassy here in Home, but 
 has been absent for some time, so that I never met him before." 
 
 There was a pause in reality not long, yet which seemed long 
 to both. Irene put her hand to her throat as if she could not ar- 
 ticulate. When she finally spoke, the voice did not sound like her 
 own. 
 
 "And he wishes to know me ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Falconer answered. " I have no reason to believe 
 that he imagines in the least who you are. I tested him as far 
 as possible and either he does not suspect, or his command of 
 countenance is incredible." 
 
 "How can he fail to suspect," said the girl in the same strained 
 voice, " when I bear my mother's name? " 
 
 " It is possible that he may never have heard your mother's 
 name. Of course, as your father's wife, she bore " 
 
 "Yes," said Irene. She was silent for another minute, and 
 Mrs. Falconer, glancing at her, saw that she was gazing steadfastly 
 at the distant horizon, while her face wore a look as set and white 
 as that of one of the marble heads gleaming from the shrubbery 
 behind them. Presently she spoke without moving. " It is very 
 strange," she said, slowly. "Why does he wish to know me? " 
 
 "Your mirror must answer that question," replied Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. " He saw you, he asked Lady Dorchester who you were ? 
 and she promised to introduce him to you, because she never knew 
 him to express interest or curiosity about a woman before." 
 
 " And does not that look as if he must be aware " 
 
 " Hardly. The more I reflect upon the matter, the more I am 
 inclined to believe that no thought of who you are has entered his 
 mind. If it had, I can not conceive for what reason he should 
 seek to know you." 
 
 " Neither can I," said Irene. " And you what did you tell 
 him?" 
 
 " That I regretted his disappointment ; but that Lady Dorches- 
 ter was mistaken in imagining that there was ever a promise of
 
 210 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 your going. And I gave him no hope of meeting you at another 
 time. But I felt that it would be impossible to guard against the 
 danger of such a meeting if you appear at all in society as we 
 agreed that it is best you should ; so I determined to leave it to 
 you to decide whether you will continue your life of seclusion, or 
 will take the risk." 
 
 Silence for another minute. Then, saying in a stifled voice, "I 
 must think I must consider 1 " Irene rose again and walked away. 
 
 This time her footsteps led her to that point of the hill where 
 the parapet overlooks the ruined Muro Torto ; and there, on the 
 same spot where Waldegrave had found himself haunted by the 
 memory of her face, she paused to do battle with herself in one of 
 the sternest moments of her life. 
 
 For she felt instinctively how much hung on her decision. 
 And she also felt that, as one should flee from stress of mighty 
 temptation, so there was but one word for her to utter and that 
 word was, No. But all the passion of her nature seemed to 
 rise up and forbid the utterance. She could hear nothing, heed 
 nothing, except one thought which was surging through her mind : 
 " I have done nothing to bring this about : it has come of itself! " 
 If Stanhope had seen her at that moment, he would have been 
 struck by the likeness which her face wore to that of her proud 
 and dominant father. Her lips were compressed into a straight, 
 firm line ; her eyes were burning under the dark, knitted brows ; 
 her whole expression was of resolute force and unbending will. 
 It was easy to see that there were few obstacles she would not be 
 ready to trample upon, few scruples that would not perish like 
 straw in the flame of her passion. 
 
 How long she stood there she did not know. At last she 
 turned and went back to Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " I have decided," she said, in a clear, firm tone. " It is not 
 for me to shrink from any meeting. Let us make no change in 
 what we intended, and, if Count "Waldegrave still desires to know 
 me, do not hesitate to introduce him."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 211 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THAT abstraction called Fate, which played so large a part in 
 the affairs of the ancients, and which is not without use to 
 moderns, inasmuch as it serves to throw the blame of many un- 
 toward affairs and undesirable catastrophes upon, certainly seemed 
 determined to bring together two people whom the natural course 
 of events had placed far apart. It was a sense of this which 
 made Irene find it impossible to refuse to know Count Waldegrave. 
 " I have done nothing to bring it about it has come of itself," she 
 said, as an Arab would have said, " Kismet ! " It was shifting 
 responsibility from herself to something vague and impersonal. 
 
 But Mrs. Falconer had no such inclination. She did not be- 
 lieve in Fate, and she did believe in the consequences of one's 
 own acts. The sense of responsibility was strong with her, and 
 although she had felt it right to let Irene decide for herself in a 
 matter that concerned herself alone, she had not doubted what 
 the decision would be. She was sure that the girl's impulse would 
 at once declare for avoiding one who recalled, and in a manner 
 represented, her mother's great wrong. The answer which she 
 received was, therefore, not only surprising but almost dismaying. 
 Irene offered no explanation beyond the proud remark, "It is 
 not for me to shrink from any meeting " and she asked none ; 
 but something in the girl's manner rendered her uneasy, and made 
 her regret that she had not kept her own counsel, and acted on 
 her own judgment. What she feared she hardly knew but her 
 foreboding was at least sufficiently tangible for her to resolve that, 
 if it rested with her to prevent a meeting between the cousins, 
 such a meeting should never take place. 
 
 It did not rest with her, however. On the contrary, she 
 proved the indirect means through which the meeting came to 
 pass. It will be remembered that she had requested Erne not to 
 join Irene and Mrs. Vance again in their drives, walks, or expe- 
 ditions; adding, " "When I wish you to go, I will ask you myself." 
 But the mood which issued this prohibition underwent a change 
 after the conversation with Irene on the Pincio. She saw no 
 reason after that for any further prohibition of intercourse than
 
 212 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the consideration of Mrs. Grundy rendered necessary. " The poor 
 fellow will soon enough learn that his hopes are baseless," she 
 thought. " I will let him have what pleasure he can, meanwhile." 
 It must be confessed that this was very much the spirit with which 
 one gives a child the probably indigestible sugar- plums it covets ; 
 but Erne, being fortunately unaware of her motive, was simply 
 grateful when, on the next time that he presented himself, she 
 said: 
 
 "Is not to-morrow the day for the Yilla Albani? Irene has 
 not been there yet. Should you not like to go with us in the 
 afternoon?" 
 
 " I shall be delighted," he answered. Then he turned to Irene. 
 "Do you remember what I was saying the other day about the 
 Orpheus and Eurydice ? I am glad that I shall have the pleasure 
 of showing it to you. But you must sing ' Che faro senza Euri- 
 dice ' for me as a prelude." 
 
 " Must I ? " she said, smiling. She never made any difficulties 
 about singing never begged to be excused, never said that she 
 was hoarse ; so she crossed the floor to the piano, and a moment 
 later her voice rose in the song for which he asked. She sang it, 
 as she did everything, with a fervor that seemed to make its pas- 
 sion and its pathos for the time her own. They were thrilling 
 tones tones that seemed to " take up the whole of love and utter 
 it " and as Mrs. Falconer listened, she asked herself if this could 
 be the girl who had repudiated the very thought of the passion 
 she was expressing. u lf this is merely the instinct of art, 
 what will the force of nature be, when the hour for it strikes ! " 
 she thought; and then she observed, with something of a pang, 
 the look on Erne's face. The hour had struck for him, and these 
 heart-piercing tones were like fuel to his flame. " Come to 
 luncheon to-morrow, Lionel," she said, when he bade them good- 
 night. It was another sugar-plum, but the young man did not 
 know it as he went out into the night with his heart beating high. 
 The excitement of the music seemed to have entered into his 
 veins. His was a temperament peculiarly susceptible to such ex- 
 citements to everything that touched his nature on its asthetic 
 side. He carried with him not only the strains of Irene's voice, 
 but a picture of her as she sang, with the sconces over the piano
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 213 
 
 showering their light down upon her. " If I could paint her so ! " 
 he thought. A line of poetry which seemed made for her was 
 running through his memory: 
 
 " ' The star-like sorrow of immortal eyes,' " 
 
 he found himself murmuring. They were shining hefore him, 
 filled with the expression that had been in them when she sang 
 the "Euridice" the sorrow that genius feels through sympathy 
 with every form of human suffering. " Your imagination is al- 
 ways playing you tricks," Mrs. Falconer often said to him; hut 
 he felt sure that his imagination never played him any trick with 
 regard to Irne. He had recognized her for what she was at 
 first ; and time had not withered nor custom staled the force and 
 freshness of her unique charm. 
 
 He made his appearance punctually the next day, and in the 
 golden afternoon they drove out to the Villa Albani. Irene had 
 not seen this most beautiful of Roman villas, and her visit to it 
 had been purposely delayed. Several times Erne had proposed 
 to go, but Mrs. Falconer always negatived the proposal. "I 
 want to wait until she is really able to enjoy it, and until I have 
 a leisure moment to accompany her," she said. The leisure mo- 
 ment had been long in arriving ; and so it chanced that Irene 
 first saw in all the glory of Italian spring this matchless spot, 
 where, as an English writer says, " Cardinal Albani, having spent 
 his life in collecting ancient sculpture, formed such porticoes and 
 such saloons to receive it as an old Roman would have done : por- 
 ticoes where the statues stood free upon the pavement between 
 columns proportioned to their stature; saloons which were not 
 stocked but embellished by families of allied statues, and seemed 
 full without a crowd" and where the garden, with its groves of 
 ilex and avenues of box, its solemn cypresses, its fountains and 
 columns, and terrace whence the eye beholds one of the most 
 beautiful of Roman views, forms a picture never to be forgotten. 
 
 It seemed to Count Waldegrave that absence had enhanced 
 his sense of delight in the beauty, both of nature and of art, so 
 lavishly displayed here. He was wandering with apparent aim- 
 lessness but real enjoyment from room to room filled with exqui-
 
 214 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 site shapes of antique loveliness, when he entered the apartment 
 containing the famous Greek marhle, representing the parting of 
 Orpheus and Eurydice. At the moment it was empty save for a 
 single figure that of a girl in deep mourning who stood before 
 the bas-relief. She did not turn her head as his foot rang on the 
 floor, but involuntarily he paused, for a single glance told him that 
 if she turned he would see the face which he saw first on the ter- 
 race of the Villa Mattel. lie did not feel an instant's doubt : there 
 was no mistaking the shape and poise of the slender figure, or the 
 distinction in the carriage of the head. Thought is so quick that, 
 as he paused, he had time to wonder how she came to be alone, 
 when, to his infinite surprise, she spoke her low but clear voice 
 breaking on the silence with the distinctness of a silver bell : 
 
 "You are right it grows upon one," she said. "The sim- 
 plicity is so exquisite and so pathetic. Certainly the Greeks 
 did not believe in overstrained emotion. It is, as Ampere says," 
 her glance fell to a book in her hand " ' Veffet le plus pathe- 
 tique est produit par la composition la plus simple ; demotion la 
 plus penetrante s 1 exhale de la sculpture la plus tranquille." 1 I 
 think I feel that," she added, turning toward him with a smile. 
 
 A speechless instant followed an inappreciable space of 
 time, yet one which seemed long to both of the two people so 
 unexpectedly set face to face. Then the girl recovered herself. 
 A tide of color flushed her clear white skin as soon as she per- 
 ceived her mistake ; and it had not passed away when she said in 
 French, " Pardon, monsieur I mistook you for some one else " 
 and with a slight bend of the head passed him on her way to 
 leave the room. 
 
 But Fate in the persons of Mrs. Falconer and Erne stopped 
 her at the door. It was Erne who had left her alone for a mo- 
 ment while he went back for Mrs. Falconer, who, having lin- 
 gered to speak to an acquaintance, became separated from them. 
 " Look at it well," he had said, alluding to the bas-relief. " The 
 charm of it will grow upon you. I shall return in a minute." 
 And when a minute later a masculine tread rang on the floor 
 behind her, forgetting that the Villa Albani might contain other 
 men than the one who had accompanied her, she spoke without 
 looking round.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 215 
 
 It was all very rapid. Waldegrave had only time after ac- 
 knowledging her apology with a deep- bow to move forward 
 mechanically to the sculpture, when she met her delinquent com- 
 panions at the door. 
 
 "You perceive I had not far to go," said Erne. "But what is 
 the matter ? Surely you have not tired of the Orpheus and Eury- 
 dice already ? " 
 
 " I am not so stupid," she replied. " At least, not in that way 
 but I have been very stupid in another. Do you see that man? 
 I spoke to him for you of course, without looking around." 
 
 "Moral: it is always well to look at people when addressing 
 them," said Erne, laughing. "But it was a trifling mistake, and 
 the man is apparently a gentleman therefore not likely to have 
 misunderstood it." 
 
 " It is of no importance," said Mrs. Falconer. " Don't give it 
 any by appearing to think of it." 
 
 She walked forward as she spoke ; but as she approached the 
 bas-relief and the man standing before it turned, she changed her 
 opinion of the importance of the mistake as rapidly and com- 
 pletely as possible. She had the true grande dame command of 
 countenance ; but for once she was betrayed into an expression of 
 dismay. 
 
 " Count Waldegrave! " she ejaculated. 
 
 "Waldegrave bowed. "I am happy that Mrs. Falconer remem- 
 bers me," he said. 
 
 There may have been a faint shade X>f malice in the words, for 
 Mrs. Falconer's remembrance was evidently altogether unmixed 
 with pleasure. In a moment, however, she recovered herself, 
 and, recognizing that the meeting she wished to prevent was 
 now unavoidable, saw that the only thing to be done was to 
 invest it with as matter-of-course an air as possible. Even at 
 that moment she felt with a sense of relief that she could trust 
 Irfene. It would be terribly unexpected, but the girl would not 
 blench she was sure of that, and it was much to be sure of. 
 
 " Count Waldegrave does not find it remarkable to be remem- 
 bered, I imagine," she said, with a slight smile not without 
 gracionsness, though certainly without warmth. "Perhaps I 
 should apologize for ray surprise. But one is often absurdly sur-
 
 216 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 prised at meeting an acquaintance where one only expected to see 
 a stranger." After a slight pause, she added, " Miss Lescar has 
 just had an exactly contrary surprise, she tells me." 
 
 Waldegrave glanced toward Irdne, who, with Erne, was ad- 
 vancing. 
 
 "Miss Lescar spoke I can scarcely say addressed me tinder 
 the evident impression that I was some one else," he replied. 
 
 " She supposed you to be my cousin, who had left her only 
 a moment before," said Mrs. Falconer. Then she turned, and 
 with an instinctive movement laid her hand on the girl's arm. 
 "Irene," she said, "let me introduce a gentleman whom Fate has 
 gratified in his desire to know you Count Waldegrave." 
 
 She felt as if the difficulty which she experienced in pronounc- 
 ing the name resulted in her uttering it with almost violent dis- 
 tinctness. Whether this impression was correct or not, it cer- 
 tainly had upon Erne the effect of a thunder-bolt. He started 
 and looked at his cousin as if asking whether his ears had played 
 him false, or whether she had taken leave of her senses. But she 
 had no attention to bestow upon him. All her thoughts wero 
 concentrated upon Mne. As her hand rested on the girl's arm, 
 she could feel her quiver when the name which had such meaning 
 for her was pronounced. But her control of countenance proved 
 the mettle of her courage. Only the sudden, shining h'ght which 
 came into her eyes betrayed to her two anxious observers how 
 deeply she was moved. But it naturally revealed nothing to 
 Waldegrave. Having never looked fully into those eyes before, 
 he was only struck by their rare brilliance, and by the singular 
 directness and intentness of their gaze. 
 
 If Mrs. Falconer had afterward been required, under pain of 
 severe penalties, to describe what followed, it is doubtful if she 
 could have done so with any degree of exactness. She had a con- 
 fused recollection of an exchange of platitudes about the Villa ; 
 then she bethought herself t<5 introduce Erne, and they talked a 
 little of Greek art as exhibited in the bas-relief before them. 
 Count Waldegrave remarked that it was doubtful whether the 
 scene had been really intended to represent the parting of Or- 
 pheus and Eurydice in Hades; Erne replied that it seemed to him 
 the correct explanation of the subject, but that so long as it rep-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 217 
 
 resented that perfectly, he saw no reason for troubling themselves 
 about the original intention of the artist. Then a good deal was 
 said about Winckelmann, and then there was no help for it ! 
 they moved away, accompanied by Count Waldegrave. 
 
 It seemed to Mrs. Falconer a necessity of the position that she 
 should take charge of this undesired addition to the party. She 
 was too uncertain of Irne, to allow him to attach himself to her 
 and, indeed, he evinced no desire of the kind. So, talking, it is 
 safe to say, with less thought and more incoherence than she 
 ever before displayed, she walked on with him through the spa- 
 cious rooms, leaving Irene and Erne to follow. 
 
 For once the latter would have preferred a different arrange- 
 ment. He was eager for an explanation which he felt it impos- 
 sible to ask of Irene. He had never heard her allude in the most 
 remote manner to her father's name or existence, and it was 
 therefore out of the question for him to make any allusion of 
 the kind. An expression of surprise with regard to the intro- 
 duction would undoubtedly he such an allusion ; therefore they 
 walked in silence for several minutes, until she spoke. 
 
 "No doubt you think this very strange on Mrs. Falconer's 
 part," she said; "so I feel as if I ought to tell yon that she 
 did not introduce Count Waldegrave without my consent. We 
 talked of the matter the other day; and I told her to do 
 so." 
 
 Erne's surprise was not lessened by this statement, and, after 
 a short pause, he said : " I have seldom been more amazed. I 
 was aware that Count Waldegrave was in Rome; but I could 
 never have imagined " 
 
 " That he would desire to know me ? " she said, as he stopped. 
 " It is certainly amazing. But you understand, of course, that he 
 does not suspect who I am. Otherwise, I should not have thought 
 of consenting to know him." 
 
 He looked at her in astonishment, which seemed to ascend 
 from comparative to superlative degree. 
 
 " I confess that I do not understand," he said. " How can you 
 be sure that he does not suspect? And even if he does not, an 
 accident may at any time reveal your identity to him." 
 
 " There is no accident probable I may say possible except
 
 218 EEAET OF STEEL. 
 
 the indiscretion of some of my friends," she replied. " And they 
 are not so many that I can not feel safe on that point." 
 
 "You may assuredly feel safe with regard to one of them," 
 he said. " But you must pardon me if I say that I think you are 
 making a mistake." 
 
 " You have always been so kind that I do not mind your say- 
 ing it," she answered, quietly. " It is, however, a matter of which 
 no one can judge except myself. But we are moving too fast 
 through so much beauty. See ! is not this the Antinous crowned 
 with lotus, which "Winckelmann declares to be, ' after the Apollo 
 and the Laocoon, the most beautiful monument of antiquity which 
 time has transmitted to us ' ? " 
 
 She walked up to the chimney-piece as she spoke, and stood for 
 several minutes before the famous relievo. Erne, as he watched 
 her, was struck with something of resemblance between her face 
 and that of the marble. The brows of Antinous are slightly knit- 
 ted, as if with thought or pain, and so were hers, while in both 
 faces the severe intellectual beauty of the Greek type was soft- 
 ened by the charm of youth. 
 
 Presently she turned to him. " Why are you not a sculptor ? " 
 she asked. " It seems to me that of all forms of art none is so 
 glorious as this to put one's conceptions into imperishable mar- 
 ble that after the lapse of hundreds of centuries shall still give de- 
 light to myriads ! What can be greater than that ? " 
 
 " But you forget that such sculpture as this is a lost art," ho 
 answered, " though I confess that I have been saying much the 
 same thing to myself. I have dabbled in clay as well as in paint 
 in my time, and I will go back to the clay to-morrow if you will 
 let me model your head. I might hope to rival the Antinous then, 
 perhaps." 
 
 Her straight, dark brows drew closer together. "I did not 
 think you would turn what I said into a foolish compliment," 
 she remarked, with severity. 
 
 " It is not a foolish compliment," he replied. " I am in earnest. 
 Artist after some fashion I am, but the divine spark has never 
 yet been successfully brought out of me. If you will give me a 
 chance " 
 
 " My dear Lionel " it was Mrs. Falconer's voice half laughing
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 219 
 
 behind him " what chance are you demanding from fortune or 
 Miss Lescar ? " 
 
 " From Miss Lescar rather than from fortune," he answered ; 
 and, as he turned, he met the glance of Count Waldegrave. " I 
 have been asking her to allow me to model her head as a prep- 
 aration for becoming the rival of Praxiteles." 
 
 " And she ? " 
 
 " Has begged him not to be foolish," said Irene, with a slight 
 touch of unconscious scorn. 
 
 It did not misbecome her, "Waldegrave thought. She looked 
 like a disdainful young princess as she stood a moment longer, 
 then, turning, moved away. 
 
 It was finally in the garden, on the terrace whence one looks 
 afar over the swelling ridges of the Campagna to the beautiful 
 outlines and tints of the Sabine Mountains, to Monte Gennaro 
 lifting his stately crest with the Monticelli beneath, and at the 
 picturesque churches of Sant 'Agnese and Santa Costanza in the 
 middle distance, that he found an opportunity to speak to her. 
 Some acquaintances of Mrs. Falconer again joined them, and Irene, 
 walking a little apart, stood by the marble balustrade with her 
 eyes fixed on the heights where such exquisite lights and shades 
 were chasing each other. 
 
 Her attitude recalled to "Waldegrave the first time that he saw 
 her, on the terrace of the Villa Mattei. But the similarity, if he 
 had known it, was only outward : it would be difficult to imagine 
 two states of mind, two strains of feeling, more different than hers 
 on that occasion and on the present. Then even the sadness of 
 grief had been tempered by a sense of peace the exquisite peace 
 breathed by nature and taught by faith : now a hot strife of in- 
 ward passion was shaking her soul to its center. The old bitter 
 memory of wrong, the old passionate sense of antagonism rose 
 within her. The recollection of her mother at this moment was 
 like fire near a burn. She could hardly endure to think that she 
 had consented to know one who stood so near to, who was in fact 
 the representative of, the man who had inflicted such ineffaceable 
 injury upon that ardently loved mother. 
 
 It may seem strange that the sound of Waldegrave's voice 
 finally steadied if it did not cool her. But in some natures the
 
 220 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 necessity is one with the power of self-control. Irene felt that 
 she could do anything sooner than betray what influence this 
 presence had upon her. Every nerve was strung to its highest 
 tension when she turned and looked at him with her proud and 
 brilliant glance. 
 
 " I am reminded, Miss Lescar, of the first time I saw you," he 
 said. "Do you remember an afternoon not long ago when you 
 stood on the terrace of the Villa Mattei and looked out over the 
 Campagna toward the Alban Hills? " 
 
 She regarded him with an expression of surprise. 
 
 "I remember it very well," she answered. "But you were 
 not there." 
 
 "Pardon me, I was there in the ilex avenue which leads to 
 the terrace. It was a mere chance which took me there but I 
 was repaid." 
 
 "It is a beautiful view," she said, quietly. If she understood 
 the inference of his words, not even the flicker of an eyelash be- 
 trayed as much. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " so beautiful that I have been back twice 
 since that afternoon. It is an unsociable habit, no doubt, but I 
 have a fancy for wandering alone about the antiquities and out- 
 skirts of Eome." 
 
 " Ah," she said, involuntarily, " that is what I should like. I 
 am often ashamed to feel how I long to be alone. It is not," she 
 added, quickly, " that I have not the most intelligent and sympa- 
 thetic companions; but where there is so much to realize so 
 much to :neditate upon one must desire solitude." 
 
 " In Rome which is so full of august memories, and where 
 the very dust, as Chateaubriand said, bears with it something 
 of human grandeur I think one must. Though it is an un- 
 usual desire for one of your age and sex," ho added, smiling 
 slightly. 
 
 Perhaps the smile irritated Irene, who was ready to read all 
 that he said or did in an evil light. At all events, her face changed, 
 as that of one who regrets having spoken too impulsively, and she 
 looked away again toward the distant hills. 
 
 "I am not aware that either age or sex has anything to do 
 with appreciating what is great," she said, coldly.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 221 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Waldegrave ; " I only spoke of the 
 desire for solitude. You must admit that to be unusual." 
 
 "I know too little of how others feel, to admit or deny it," 
 she answered. " I only know what I feel myself." 
 
 A pause followed. For once in his life Waldegrave was at a 
 loss how to proceed. Nothing is more discouraging to conver- 
 sational effort than indifference ; and complete indifference, he 
 felt, was here. There was not even the attempt to look interested 
 and appear agreeable, which, however transparent it may be, is 
 at least a tribute to civility. There are few men of good social 
 rank who are not accustomed to expect this ; and Waldegrave 
 might have been pardoned if he had expected much more. But 
 here was a girl who looked away from him as if his personal and 
 social consequence had been represented by a cipher, yet who 
 filled him with a desire, as strong as it was strange, to bring her 
 eyes back and wake in them a light of interest and sympathy. 
 
 At length he spoke. u You have been long in Rome ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Only during the winter," she answered. 
 
 " And I have been absent during most of the winter which 
 accounts, no doubt, for the fact that I first had the pleasure of 
 seeing you only a few days ago, on the terrace of the Villa 
 Mattei." 
 
 "You are mistaken," she said, with slight hauteur. "I have 
 not been going out at all. No one has seen me unless by an ac- 
 cident I could not prevent." 
 
 The inference of her tone was unmistakable. " If I could 
 have prevented it, you would not have seen me," it said. Ir&ne 
 scarcely knew herself how much of her inner feeling her manner 
 expressed ; while Waldegrave was conscious of the same surprise 
 he had felt with regard to Mrs. Falconer, at this apparently cause- 
 less rebuff. It appeared to him altogether inexplicable. He might 
 have imagined it to proceed from lack of breeding in any one else 
 but there was something about this girl which forbade such a 
 supposition, and brought to his mind again the thought of a dis- 
 dainful princess. " How have I possibly offended her ? " he asked 
 himself with a half-humorous sense of astonishment ; and, while 
 he did so, she suddenly looked at him.
 
 222 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "When one_has a great grief for companion," sho said, "no 
 seclusion can be too great for one." 
 
 What was it in her voice or glance which made Waldegrave 
 feel all the depth of meaning in these simple words ? Some peo- 
 ple have this rare gift of expression. It was at once an explana- 
 tion and an apology which the beautiful, candid eyes made. "Af- 
 ter all, it is not his fault," the girl had said to herself. As for 
 Waldegrave, it was with a quick sense of sympathy that he re- 
 ceived the amende. As long as men are men, such sympathy will 
 be evoked more readily by youth and beauty than by any cor- 
 responding degree of distress in age and ugliness. 
 
 Whether or not the conversation would have proceeded more 
 smoothly after this, can only be left to conjecture, for at this mo- 
 ment Mrs. Falconer who had been watching it from afar, herself 
 the while on thorns now managed to disengage herself from her 
 friends and came toward them. 
 
 " It is time for us to go, Irdne," she said. " The sun is low, 
 and I never like to be out after it has set. A great deal, in the 
 matter of health, depends in this climate on observing such rules," 
 she added, turning to Waldegrave. 
 
 He replied that there could be no doubt of it ; that many fatal 
 illnesses among foreigners resulted from not observing them. 
 Then he walked with her to the gate Erne at once seizing the 
 opportunity to rejoin Irdne and, by the time they reached it, she 
 felt that there was no possible escape in civility from telling him 
 that she was always at home on Thursday evening, and would be 
 happy to see him. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IT was with a humiliating sense of having been thoroughly 
 defeated that Mrs. Falconer leaned back in her carriage and was 
 driven into Rome. If she had been alone with Irene, she would 
 have asked the subject of her conversation with Waldegrave, and 
 perhaps expressed some of the serious misgivings which she felt; 
 but this was impossible with Erne on the seat before them ; so 
 there was little said and that of a commonplace nature during 
 the drive.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 223 
 
 "When they reached the familiar portone, Erne handed them 
 oat of the carriage, but declined his cousin's not very pressing 
 invitation to enter. ." I have an engagement to dine with some 
 men," he said. 
 
 " It is as well that he did not come in," remarked Mrs. Fal- 
 coner to her companion, as they ascended the stairs. "I don't 
 know how you may be, but I am tired and stupid. What is it, 
 Antonio ? " 
 
 A signer in the drawing-room who had asked for the signora, 
 and was now talking to Mrs. Vance, Antonio replied. The signora 
 frowned. " I do not feel like seeing any one," she said, " and I 
 can not imagine who it is." 
 
 Nevertheless, she opened the drawing-room door, while Ir&ne 
 passed on. The apartment was filled with a glow of sunset light 
 which for an instant dazzled her vision so that she could only 
 perceive that a dark figure rose quickly and advanced toward her. 
 It was not until her hand was taken in a close clasp that she saw 
 clearly who was before her, and said, in a tone which savored 
 more of indignation than welcome: 
 
 " So, Mr. Stanhope, you have come at last ! " 
 
 " At last ! " repeated Stanhope, laughing. " How kind of you 
 to say that ! I fancied that I should hear, ' Pray, Mr. Stanhope, 
 why have you come' so soon ? ' " 
 
 "There was certainly reason to fancy it," she replied, drawing 
 her hand out of his and walking to a chair. " ' I shall be in 
 Rome in a month or two,' you said, when we parted in Paris. I 
 believe four months have elapsed since then. However, it does 
 not matter. I have always observed that people are sure to come 
 the day after they are wanted." 
 
 " But what is the matter ? " he asked, in surprise and, as he 
 followed her, Mrs. Vance rose and discreetly withdrew. " If I 
 had had the least idea that yon wanted me " 
 
 " I was likely to telegraph to the Atlas Mountains ! " said she, 
 with undiminished asperity. Then suddenly she broke into a 
 smile. "Forgive me," she said. "I am horridly cross. But I 
 have wanted you so much ; and now you have come too late." 
 
 " Too late for what ? " he asked, fairly turning pale, as far 
 as was possible through a very bronzed upper surface.
 
 224 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " To be of use in a matter that seriously concerns Irene." 
 
 " Oh Irene ! " and unaccountably his face seemed to clear. 
 " I thought it might have been And what has Irene been 
 doing ? Not falling in love with Lionel Erne, I hope ? " 
 
 " By no means. She is a strange girl I doubt if she will ever 
 fall in love at all." 
 
 " Tant mieux pour lui! " said he ; and, drawing a chair imme- 
 diately in front of the one in which she had placed herself, he sat 
 down. "Before we discuss Irene," he went on then, "let me say 
 how glad I am to see you again. I feel like a way-worn traveler 
 who has reached the most delightful haven." 
 
 "And received the most delightful welcome," said she, with 
 another smile. Now that the first shock of surprise was over, the 
 first emotion of indignation, she felt that she was very glad to see 
 him. There was no one in the world with whom she was BO 
 much at ease with whom she had such a sense of certain com- 
 prehension and sympathy as with Stanhope. He had a way of 
 regarding things which she always felt to be the right way ; and, 
 though nobody flattered her less, she felt instinctively that nobody 
 admired her more. The sight of his face, the half-kindly, half- 
 sarcastic look in his eyes, the ring of his voice, the sense of 
 reliance which he inspired, were all pleasant to her with the 
 pleasantness of things tried and familiar. 
 
 " It might have been worse," said he, smiling also. " To hear 
 that one has been wanted, is better than to realize that one has 
 not been thought of." 
 
 "You would not be flattered if you could know how I have 
 thought of you lately." 
 
 " Have you anathematized me ? But how could I imagine that 
 I was needed when I had not received a hint to that effect ? " 
 
 "There has not been time to give you a hint. Besides, I 
 thought you were probably en route to the interior of Africa. 
 But, I will tell you the whole story, and you shall say what you 
 would have done had you been here." 
 
 The story was told, and listened to with the greatest 
 attention. Because he had for a moment waived the subject 
 of Irene, it did not follow that Stanhope's interest in her was 
 not keen. He made no comment until Mrs. Falconer brought
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 225 
 
 her narrative down to the events of that afternoon, when he 
 said: 
 
 " You have made one mistake. After you saw that the meet- 
 ing was inevitable, you should have told Count Waldegrave who 
 Irene is." 
 
 " But she desires above all things that he should not know." 
 
 " What she desires is of no importance compared to what is 
 right. Why she has consented to meet him I do not understand. 
 But there can be no doubt that an explanation was due to him 
 before the introduction took place." 
 
 " In that case, it would have been better not to have allowed 
 an introduction." 
 
 " Of course, it would have been better. Had I been here, I 
 should have advised you not to take it into consideration for a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " You see how right I was in wishing for you," she said in a 
 tone of self-vexation. "I knew that whatever I decided upon 
 would be wrong." 
 
 " You had no reason to think so," said he, quickly. " I know 
 of no one on whose judgment I would sooner rely but we are all 
 liable to mistakes. I blame myself for having thrown such a de- 
 cision upon you. If I could have anticipated the chance arising, I 
 should never have remained away." 
 
 "No one could have anticipated it," she said. "Who could 
 have imagined Prince Waldegrave's nephew brought into contact 
 with Irene! But, I know what I will do," she added, with an 
 air of resolution " I will leave Rome." 
 
 " You will do nothing of the kind," said Stanhope, decidedly. 
 Then he smiled at his own tone, and the expression of her face. 
 "Pardon me," he said. "I only mean that I can not permit the 
 responsibility, which it is my fault you undertook, to become such 
 an annoyance to you that it leads to overturning your plans and 
 changing your residence." 
 
 "Annoyance is too strong a -word; it is not that." 
 
 " It is distinctly that however willingly met, or cheerfully 
 borne. If you leave Rome for such a reason, I shall regret that I 
 did not place Irene in a convent, instead of allowing you to take 
 charge of her."
 
 226 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " You forget that it was not entirely a matter for your arrange- 
 ment that /promised Madame Lescar." 
 
 "Nevertheless, the power to appoint her home was and is 
 absolutely mine ; and I am responsible for any trouble she may 
 cause you." 
 
 " I never knew you so imperious before, Mr. Stanhope. How- 
 ever, we need not quarrel, for I am willing to do whatever you 
 wish with regard to her. Only tell me what it is." 
 
 " It is easily told, for it is comprised within one word nothing. 
 Stay just where you are ; do just what you are doing." 
 
 But Count Waldegrave ? " 
 
 " Count Waldegrave will not give any trouble. It was a mistake 
 to permit him to make Irene's acquaintance without telling him 
 who she is ; but, since it has been done, we will let the matter 
 rest, unless he shows signs of continued interest in her. In that 
 case he must be told." 
 
 "I am glad that you will be here to tell him," she said, with 
 an air of relief. 
 
 " I am glad to be here for other reasons." He looked around 
 the salon. "How charmingly you are settled! " he said. "This 
 is as pleasant as your apartment in Paris. Apropos, one of your 
 Parisian friends arrived in Rome with me to-day." 
 
 "I suppose you mean M. de Chateaumesnil," she said. "I 
 know yon have been together in Algiers." 
 
 "Yes, and the best of comrades I have found him this win- 
 ter, as heretofore. I have little fancy for Frenchmen in general, 
 but if one finds the highest type of French gentleman, he is de- 
 lightful." 
 
 "As delightful as the French "bourgeois is detestable. But" 
 she rose " I am forgetting that you have not seen Irdne." 
 
 " Don't send for her," said he, rising also. " If you have no 
 engagement for this evening, perhaps you will let me come back 
 after dinner." 
 
 "I have no engagement; but will you not dine with us? " 
 
 " I am sorry that I can not. I promised the Marquis that we 
 would dine together. Afterward, with your permission, we will 
 have the pleasure of paying our respects to you." 
 
 Then he left, and Mrs. Falconer went to her room. If she
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 227 
 
 was still tired and stupid, as she had declared herself on her 
 return from the Villa Albani, there was no sign of it in her 
 appearance. Indeed, there was, instead, an unusual brightness, 
 which made Mathilde exclaim, when her toilet was completed, 
 that she had never seen madame look better. 
 
 At dinner IrSne heard of Stanhope's arrival and expressed her 
 gratification. If she felt any surprise that she had not been sum- 
 moned to see him, she did not express that. Probably she sus- 
 pected what had been the topic of conversation between her two 
 guardians. However this might be, no allusion was made to Count 
 Waldegrave by herself or Mrs. Falconer. It was plainly a subject 
 which, for the present, at least, was to be ignored. 
 
 When they were in the drawing-room after dinner, Mrs. Fal- 
 coner said, " A gentleman is coming with Mr. Stanhope whom 
 you met once, though you may have forgotten him the Marquis 
 de Chateaumesnil." 
 
 Irene looked up with a quick glance of interest. 
 
 " I have not met so many people in my life that I could forget 
 such a person as the Marquis de Chateaumesnil," she said. " It 
 was at the Chapelle Expiatoire. I remember him well his high- 
 bred face, his dark, deep eyes, and how he looked as if he had 
 stepped out of the old court-life at Versailles." 
 
 "I see that you remember him," said Mrs. Falconer, smiling, 
 while she thought that the imaginative temperament was calcu- 
 lated to mislead the unimaginative. Prosaic people especially 
 if they be vulgar as well are not able to comprehend enthusiasm 
 without a personal meaning ; and the most directly personal mean- 
 ing to which their minds leap, is that of love. Such a person 
 would probably have set Irene down as the victim of a romantic 
 penchant for the Marquis ; but Mrs. Falconer knew that her in- 
 terest in him was exactly of a kind with the interest she might 
 have felt in the Constable Du Guesclin. The fear, which had once 
 crossed her mind, of arousing the girl's fancy for such a danger- 
 ously attractive person, troubled her no longer. She understood 
 Irene better now. 
 
 The expected visitors were soon announced. " Le Marquis de 
 Chateaumesnil et Monsieur Stan-hope," said Antonio who had 
 a fair smattering of French opening the door. And when the
 
 228 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 two gentlemen entered, Mrs. Falconer was struck by the fact 
 that the Marquis was looking remarkably well. His clear-cut 
 face was as keen and refined as ever, his deep-set eyes as dark and 
 brilliant, his manner and bearing as graceful and distinguished. 
 But, with all this, there was an undefinable change in him. Per- 
 haps the fresh breezes of the Atlas Mountains had proved more 
 invigorating than those which blow over the streets of Paris. At 
 least, he had the air of a man to whom some new and bracing in- 
 fluence had come to whom life offered more definite meaning 
 and purpose than it had done before. 
 
 His first words were words of evidently genuine pleasure and 
 self-congratulation. " How delighted I am to see you again, 
 inadame and to find myself at last in Italy ! " 
 
 " You speak as if there had been difficulty in finding yourself 
 in Italy," she said, with a smile. "Yet the Mediterranean is a 
 navigable sea." 
 
 " Sans doute. But if one has a companion who is procrasti- 
 nating and immovable beyond belief, one may be delayed even in 
 crossing the Mediterranean." 
 
 " And has Mr. Stanhope proved such a companion ? " 
 
 " Incredibly so. But for my perseverance and determination 
 to depart, I am sure we would be in Algiers now." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mrs. Falconer, with a glance toward Stanhope, 
 who was speaking to Irene, " I remarked to him this afternoon 
 that people generally appear after they are wanted." 
 
 "He has been wanted, then? " 
 
 " Oh, not very much only, if he had arrived a little earlier, I 
 should have been glad of his advice on a point that concerned his 
 ward. You remember Mademoiselle Lescar, perhaps? " 
 
 " Could one forget Mademoiselle Lescar ? " asked the Marquis, 
 with a look of admiration at the beautiful profile presented to his 
 view. "I remember her very well, and I remember, also, that 
 one of the pleasures yon promised me in Italy was that of hear- 
 ing her sing." 
 
 "I am sure she will redeem the promise. Irene" the girl 
 turned "let me recall the Marquis de Chateaumesnil to your 
 recollection." 
 
 "I recall M. de Chateaumesnil perfectly," said Irene, while
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 229 
 
 her large, clear eyes met the dark, deep ones of which she had 
 spoken ; " I can never forget the day I met him at the Chapelle 
 Expiatoire." 
 
 "And I can never forget," said the Marquis, "that the first 
 words I heard mademoiselle speak were a hope that the king 
 might 'have his own again.' " 
 
 "Ah, by that proof I see that you really rememher me," said 
 Irene, with a smile. 
 
 " And do you mean that, but for such a proof, you would doubt 
 the fact ? " he asked, smiling also. 
 
 " I should think it likely that you only professed to remember 
 out of courtesy," she replied. " It would be very natural if you 
 did it would be only as the Persian proverb says, ' The moon 
 looks on many flowers, the flowers see but one moon.' " 
 
 " And the application of the proverb is ? " 
 
 "The application is that you, no doubt, see many young 
 ladies, while I have seen but one Marquis de Chateanmesnil," she 
 replied, still smiling with what he thought charming frankness. 
 
 "I certainly see many young ladies," he answered; "but, be- 
 lieve me, I have seen but one Mademoiselle Lescar." 
 
 " I wonder why it is," said Irene, turning to Mrs. Falconer, 
 " that one should be so much flattered by the imputation of origi- 
 nality. It would seem presumable that the pattern on which 
 the majority of people are made is better than the pattern of 
 one." 
 
 " Not at all," replied that lady, " for the most beautiful things 
 are never those which are greatly multiplied. There are many 
 more vessels of delf than of porcelain in the world." 
 
 " But there is more need for delf than for porcelain." 
 
 "It is an inferior need, however," said Stanhope, "though a 
 more widely extended one. And there is no danger that the sup- 
 ply of delf will ever fail. To drop metaphor which is always 
 troublesome and frequently inaccurate the common type of 
 humanity perpetuates itself without trouble. But it requires 
 much trouble, in the form of hereditary culture, to make and 
 preserve a type which shall serve for the finer uses of existence." 
 
 " Therefore porcelain should not decry itself," said the Mar- 
 quis, looking at Irene.
 
 230 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " I did not mean to decry anything," she said. " I was think- 
 ing more of originality in individuals than of different types." 
 
 " Oh, originality can not be esteemed too highly," said Stan- 
 hope. " It is what preserves the world from degenerating into 
 the abject commonplace. Even eccentric people have their uses. 
 As Sir Arthur Helps has pointed out in one of his essays, they 
 resist conformity, they rebel against conventional decrees, and so 
 ' make broad the paths of freedom ' for us." 
 
 "No one admires originality more than I do," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, " but I really think I must draw the line at eccentricity. 
 Perhaps I am tinged with Philistinism ; but I do not like startling 
 divergences from established rules and customs." 
 
 "Neither do I consider 'startling divergences' admirable," 
 said Stanhope. " I only maintain in their behalf that they protect 
 against that tyranny of the conventionalities which unresisted 
 grows intolerable." 
 
 "I am afraid your sojourn in Kabylia has not been very good 
 for you," said Mrs. Falconer. " I never heard you declaiming 
 against conventionalities before." 
 
 " I am not declaiming against them now," he answered. " They 
 are very good things in their way. But I object to any form of 
 tyranny. And there are worse places in the world than Kabylia," 
 said he, rising suddenly, as if he was about to start back there. 
 
 He only strolled toward the piano, however, and asked Irene 
 if she would sing. As usual, she assented with the utmost readi- 
 ness, and followed him to the instrument. "What should you 
 like to hear ? " she asked as she seated herself. 
 
 "Whatever you choose to give me," he answered, looking 
 down at her and thinking how beautiful she was, and how much 
 she had matured since he saw her last. 
 
 She hesitated an instant; then, saying with a smile, "Perhaps 
 this will suit your frame of mind," she began one of the wild 
 stornelli which she had caught up since she had been in Eome. 
 Simple as these airs are, there are the directness and force of prim- 
 itive passion in them. All the life of the people finds expression 
 the fiery love, the passionate sorrow, the poetry innate in every 
 Italian peasant, which breaks forth now and then into the impro- 
 visatore; the glad, free, out-door life of the South, the dancing
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 231 
 
 feet, tlie tinkling music, the murmur of fountains, all is told in 
 the strains that have passed from lip to lip who can say for how 
 long? They suggest the wide freedom of the Campagna, its wind- 
 swept space and girdling hills, as the barcarolles suggest the hlue 
 sea of Naples or the green canals of Venice. 
 
 And, in this instance, whatever the song itself may have 
 lacked, the singer put into it. The girl seemed throwing all her 
 wealth of feeling into the wild, monotonous cadences, and giving 
 them a meaning as direct and personal as the appeal of passion 
 itself. When she ceased she looked up at Stanhope with a smile. 
 
 "Was that unconventional enough for you? " she asked. 
 
 "It suited me exactly," he replied. "But what a voice yon 
 have ! Its notes are like those of a violoncello. And you siug as 
 if you felt more than I hope you do." 
 
 " You think that feeling is a misfortune ? " she asked, with 
 something wistful in her upward glance. 
 
 "Much of it undoubtedly is," he replied; "and indeed there 
 is more than a grain of truth in what cynical people declare that 
 to be thoroughly comfortable one should have none." 
 
 " I should be sorry to buy comfort at such a price," she said, 
 letting her hands fall into her lap and still looking up at him. 
 " Why, there could be no such thing as devotion or sacrifice, or 
 anything great and noble, without the power that deep feeling 
 gives! Religion, patriotism, the pursuit of any high ideal, all 
 rest on that do they not? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " It is the strongest force in the world. 
 ' The greatest of these is charity.' Yet what I have said is none 
 the less true : intensity of feeling is a source of pain rather than 
 of happiness." 
 
 "I believe it," she said, in a low voice. " But it is a pain one 
 would not relinquish for any selfish happiness." 
 
 " I hope you may always think so," he said. " I confess that 
 I-" 
 
 He broke off abruptly, and at that moment Mrs. Falconer 
 spoke from the other side of the room. 
 
 " Irene," she said, "will you sing ' Che faro senza Euridice^ 
 for the Marquis ? " 
 
 For the first time in her life Irene hesitated according to the
 
 232 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 ordinary manner of singers, but not for the ordinary reason. 
 Mrs. Falconer's request the name of the song she was asked to 
 sing brought before her with startling distinctness the scene in 
 the Villa Albani, when she had turned from the Orpheus and 
 Eurydice bas-relief, to meet the eyes of the man who was at once 
 her cousin and her foe. Those eyes seemed looking at her again. 
 She shuddered slightly. 
 
 " I can not sing that to-night," she said. " Is there not some- 
 thing else that M. de Chateaumesnil would like to hear ? " 
 
 "I shall be charmed to hear anything that you will give, 
 mademoiselle," said the Marquis, answering for himself. " The 
 stornello was delightful." 
 
 " Then you shall have another," she said. " "\Ye will welcome 
 you to Italy with Italy's own music." 
 
 And so she sang song after song all the melodies that spring 
 from the people, and that a great composer takes now and then 
 and weaves into elaborate harmony and puts on the stage, to 
 bring to dress-circles and court-boxes a whisper of the freshness 
 of nature of festas when the soft-eyed oxen are wreathed with 
 flowers ; of vines hanging with grapes ; of laughing seas, and the 
 fishermen singing as they haul in their great nets on the shining 
 beach ; of the life of the shepherds, who with their flocks roam 
 the great plain where buried cities lie ; and of the mighty hills 
 where torrents leap and flowers bloom, and the tide of modern 
 discontent has not yet swept away the pastoral life, nor torn 
 down the way-side shrine to erect a statue to Mammon. 
 
 The Marquis was enchanted. To the blase man of the world 
 there was a freshness in this that was delightful, and that gained 
 charm from the speaking face of the singer. He would have been 
 prepared to give graceful, measured applause to an aria such as he 
 had expected to hear; but this wild music, with its thousand sug- 
 gestions and the pulse of passion beating through it, rendered by 
 a voice with magnetism enough to thrill a host, was a revelation 
 to him. 
 
 " Ma foi ! it is not singing it is inspiration ! " he exclaimed 
 at last. " Mademoiselle, listening to you is like looking at one of 
 Leopold Robert's pictures you bring before one the scenes, the 
 very atmosphere, of Italy ! "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 233 
 
 " Herd, monsieur," said the girl, looking at him with eyes 
 that, were shining with a light which seemed like that of inspi- 
 ration. "You are too kind; but it is all so vividly present to 
 me as I sing, that I could hardly fail to impress others a little. 
 Then I love Italy so much the real Italy I mean, not the spuri- 
 ous Italy of the revolution." 
 
 " Who does not love that Italy ? " he asked. 
 
 "But with most people who are not Italians it comes after 
 their own country," she said. "I have no country to put before 
 it. Italy is all to me." 
 
 "I thought I fancied that you were American," he said, a 
 little surprised. 
 
 " I was not born in America," she replied, " nor do I know 
 much of it, except through the kind friends it has sent into my 
 life," she added, with a comprehensive glance and a sweet smile 
 toward Mrs. Falconer and Stanhope. 
 
 The Marquis was too well bred_ to ask any question, but that 
 the chance remark made an impression* upon him was apparent 
 when Stanhope and himself took leave. They hardly found 
 themselves in the street before he said : 
 
 " I have seldom seen a more striking person than Mademoiselle 
 Lescar. It is not only her beauty which makes her remarka- 
 ble there is that in her face and in her voice which is beyond 
 beauty." 
 
 " Yet which derives much from it," said Stanhope, who had 
 lighted a cigar and was puffing vigorously. " She is certainly a 
 very striking person ; no one is more thoroughly aware of it than 
 I am." 
 
 " A fascinating person she might easily prove," said the 
 Marquis. Then, after a brief pause, "May I ask who she 
 is?" 
 
 " Who she is ! " repeated Stanhope, a little startled by the un- 
 expectedness of the question. He took his cigar from his lips and 
 glanced at his companion by the light of a street-lamp. "I 
 thought you knew that she is the daughter of an old Mend of 
 Mrs. Falconer's and my own." 
 
 " So I heard ; but pardon me if I am indiscreet ! there is 
 something about her that suggests unusual parentage. She not
 
 234 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 only has the air nolle in marked degree, bnt there is a brilliance, 
 a charm " 
 
 " If you had seen her mother," said Stanhope, quietly, as the 
 other paused, " you would have seen a queen among women one 
 from whom the daughter has inherited almost all that seems to 
 you so remarkable." 
 
 "And the father," said the Marquis ; "was he also remark- 
 able?" 
 
 " Very," replied Stanhope, dryly. " A man of great ability, 
 though lacking in principle." 
 
 "Ah ! " was the expressive response. They walked on in si- 
 lence for a moment ; then, as they were descending the Trinita 
 de' Monti steps, the Marquis said slowly, " It is a pity if there is 
 a cloud upon the life of such a creature." 
 
 " Why should you imagine that there is? " asked Stanhope. 
 
 De Chateaumesnil lifted his shoulders in the gesture that with 
 a Frenchman says so much. " How can I tell ? " he answered. 
 " One has an instinct of these things. It may be in her face 
 which has a singular depth of expression for one so young or it 
 may be in her voice : but one sees and feels that she has suf- 
 fered." 
 
 " She suffered intensely in the death of her mother, to whom 
 she was devoted." 
 
 " That would be grief," said the Marquis, " and is different 
 from what I mean. Yet she is so young she can hardly have 
 had a story of her own ! " 
 
 " Certainly not," said Stanhope who understood what was 
 meant. " She has led the life of a child. Until within the last 
 few months, she had never left her mother's side." 
 
 " She has tasted the fruit of the tree of knowledge, neverthe- 
 less and found it bitter," said the other, with an air of convic- 
 tion. " I do not ask you to tell me anything, but, as I have said, 
 one recognizes some things. Only, as we are old friends, pardon 
 one question do you mean to marry her ? " 
 
 " Good Heavens, no ! " cried Stanhope, taking his ciear from 
 hia lips again, and in his irritation hnrling it away. " I believe 
 the world is mad on that subject of marriage ! My dear Marquis, 
 although you are half English, you have never learned and
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 235 
 
 do not know that a man can feel pure and simple friendship for 
 a woman who is not related to him." 
 
 " You are mistaken," said the Marquis. " Such a sentiment 
 is uncommon, but I recognize the possibility that it may exist. I 
 believe, for instance, that it is such friendship which you feel for 
 the charming Mrs. Falconer. But for this brilliant, nymph-like 
 creature what are you made of, that it is possible ! " 
 
 u For one thing, this brilliant, nymph-like creature seems a 
 mere child to me," said Stanhope, shortly. 
 
 " Yet you are not a meillard," said the Marquis, smiling. 
 
 "For another thing, I should as soon think of falling in love 
 with a goddess from Olympus, if one were to be found, and ex- 
 pecting her to share a prosaic, terrestrial existence. And, lastly, 
 I am not a marrying man and never shall be ! " 
 
 They had reached the "Europa" by this time, and, as they 
 turned in under its great portal, the last emphatic declaration 
 ended the conversation. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WITH the exception of a bow exchanged on the Pincio, noth- 
 ing more was seen or heard of Count Waldegrave for several 
 days. But as Thursday evening approached, Mrs. Falconer began 
 to feel a little nervous. Would he appear ? She felt unable to 
 suggest that Irene should not do so, though, had the girl herself 
 manifested any reluctance, she would gladly have consented to 
 her absence. But Irene manifested none. It is probable that 
 pride had something to do with her attitude ; but it is also likely 
 that the first painful shock of meeting over the very antago- 
 nism with which she regarded Waldegrave made her feel a certain 
 desire to meet him. She was not satisfied with the manner in 
 which she had met him before : she longed to efface a sense of 
 failure. "For I let him see he must have seen that his pres- 
 ence affected me," she thought. " I was taken by surprise I do 
 not think I could have been so weak but for that. I shall not be 
 taken by surprise another time, and then " She did not clearly 
 set before herself what should occur " then " ; she was only con-
 
 236 HEART OP STEEL. 
 
 scious of a strong impulse to impress her personality upon this 
 man, and at the same time to evince her indifference toward him. 
 A difficult task, it will be seen, and one which demanded for its 
 fulfillment certain conditions of tact and temper and worldly 
 knowledge which Irene with all her brilliance hardly pos- 
 
 Meanwhile Waldegrave had quite determined that he would 
 not appear at Mrs. Falconer's reception. Every day he told him- 
 self this with decision which was an unnecessary amount of it- 
 eration if he had not been conscious of some current of desire set- 
 ting in the other direction. But, because he was conscious of 
 such a current, he was the more resolved not to yield to it. Why 
 should he go ? He was sufficiently haunted already by that " pale, 
 perfect face," and those great eyes full of light and pathos. Not 
 that he feared any folly on his part like the folly he had ob- 
 served in other men for, if a man does not deduce his conclu- 
 sions even with regard to himself from his past experience, what 
 shall he base them upon? There was no experience of past 
 weakness to warn him of possible future weakness ; but it is un- 
 desir.able to be haunted by a face, though one may do no more 
 than admire it ; and eyes are best avoided that inspire a longing 
 to gaze down, down, and yet down into their strangely unfathom- 
 able depths. Moreover, he reminded himself that he had not de- 
 sired to make Miss Lescar's acquaintance. He had been decidedly 
 put in a false position, had been represented as wishing to know 
 her, had been introduced as one whom Fate had gratified in this 
 wish, and then had been treated with unmistakable disdain ! No, 
 he was quite resolved that he would not attend Mrs. Falconer's 
 reception, and, to make quite sure of himself, he accepted an invi- 
 tation to dinner on that evening. 
 
 But he had a fate as well as (Edipus, and he was not to be 
 allowed to shun it. Among the guests at the dinner was Lady 
 Dorchester, and he found himself seated beside her at table. 
 Both had prior claims upon their attention, yet presently an op- 
 portunity for a little conversation arose. 
 
 "I have not seen you for some time, M. le Comte," said she, 
 turning toward him. " Have you forsworn society ? " 
 
 "So far from that," he replied, "I did myself the honor of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 237 
 
 calling on you the other day, hut was so unfortunate as to find 
 you out." 
 
 " Of course you did and so you would any day if you came 
 at the hour when I drive. What is the good of being in Rome 
 for one's health if one does not breathe as much as possible of 
 Roman air ? A propos, my companion that day was Mrs. Falconer 
 who is decidedly the most agreeable person I have met here 
 and she chanced to mention that you have accomplished your 
 desire to know Miss Lescar." 
 
 "I do not wish to be ungallant even by implication," said 
 Waldegrave, smiling, " but if you will recall our conversation on 
 the Pincio the day I asked the name of the young lady, you will 
 remember that I by no means expressed a desire to know her." 
 
 "I remember. You expressed, on the contrary, a fanciful 
 fear that she might not fulfill the ideal her face inspired. But, 
 despite that, you can not deny that you were disappointed when 
 you did not meet her at my house as I had promised that you 
 should." 
 
 " I am sure you would not believe me if I did deny it." 
 
 "I should certainly think it an incomprehensible manifesta- 
 tion of the idealism of the German nature. Now that you have 
 met her, what is the result ? is the ideal shattered ? " 
 
 "I can scarcely say for the very good reason that she hardly 
 deigned either to look at or to speak to me." 
 
 " Ah ! shyness, no doubt. She has never been out." 
 
 Waldegrave laughed. " If it was shyness," he said, " I can 
 only declare that I have never seen shyness manifest itself in 
 such a manner before. It looked much more like hauteur." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Why should she exhibit hauteur to you ? " 
 
 "I confess I have not the faintest idea; unless, indeed I did 
 not think of it before she had heard of my doubt whether she 
 would fulfill the ideal her face suggested." 
 
 " She could not have heard of it, for I have never mentioned 
 it ; and I can not imagine that it would have had any effect upon 
 her if she had heard of it. She may or may not be your ideal, 
 but she is certainly a very clever girl ; whereas, according to my 
 experience, only people who are deficient in sense are offended 
 easily."
 
 238 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "I am quite sure that Miss Lescar is not deficient in sense," 
 said Waldegrave. " There is a likeness in her face to some other 
 face that I have seen or known, which puzzles me, like a tune 
 one can not name though its melody is familiar. I fancy it must 
 be some head on an ancient medal or cameo. She looks more 
 like that than anything else." 
 
 "She is a beautiful creature," said Lady Dorchester. Then, 
 after a pause, " Are you going to Mrs. Falconer's to-night? " 
 
 " I think not," he replied, with a little hesitation. " I know 
 Mrs. Falconer very slightly." 
 
 "And you still fear the shattering of the ideal?" said she, 
 with a smile. " I thought you too much of a philosopher. Let 
 me advise you to go. It is one of the pleasantest salons in 
 Rome." 
 
 " So I have heard. You are going, I presume ? " 
 
 " Yes, I always go. Do you wish to make your entree under 
 my wing?" 
 
 " Could I make it nnder a better one ? that is, if you will 
 permit me." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer's rooms were well filled, though not crowded, 
 when Lady Dorchester and Count "Waldegrave entered. And, by 
 a singular chance, the first person on whom the eyes of the latter 
 fell was Irene, who happened at that moment to have been asked 
 to sing, and who was standing by the piano her tall, slender 
 figure, her black dress, and her graceful, classic head making her 
 conspicuous. Among the group surrounding her, Waldegrave's 
 quick glance at once singled out the young man who had been 
 her companion on both occasions when he had seen her, and 
 whose air of devotion would have been evident to the most casual 
 observation. 
 
 He had only time for a glance, however, as he followed Lady 
 Dorchester to where Mrs. Falconer stood talking to a stately, 
 handsome Roman prince. She was looking very lovely in a toi- 
 let of violet satin, draped with misty falls of lace, caught here and 
 there with a diamond like a dewdrop, which suited the delicate, 
 Greuze-like beauty of her skin and the clear luster of her eyes. 
 She greeted Lady Dorchester cordially, and when the latter said,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 239 
 
 "You see, I have brought Count Waldegrave," she turned to 
 him with her peculiar sunny graciousness of manner. This was 
 not only because she was now in her own house, but also because 
 she felt that the burden of responsibility no longer rested on her 
 shoulders. Stanhope was come and Stanhope would decide 
 what was to be done about Irene. Meanwhile, Waldegrave was 
 a guest whom it was incumbent upon her to receive and treat as 
 she would any other. 
 
 So she talked to him for several minutes, while Lady Dor- 
 chester conversed with the Prince; and Waldegrave began to 
 understand why it was that he heard Mrs. Falconer's praises so 
 often sung. To perfect usage du monde she united what is not 
 often found united with it a frank and kindly sympathy, and 
 thorough freedom from effort of any kind. It is only in the very 
 highest breeding that one finds this exquisite simplicity; but 
 whether given by nature or acquired by art, Mrs. Falconer pos- 
 sessed it, and to its charm men and women of all kinds responded 
 with admiration and regard. 
 
 Suddenly, however, the conversation was interrupted. A voice 
 rose clear, thrilling, of vibrating sweetness in the passionate 
 strains of " Che faro senza Euridice." "Waldegrave fairly caught 
 his breath. Like most Germans, he was devoted to music, keenly 
 alive to its influence, and thoroughly able to judge of its excel- 
 lence. It appeared to him now that he had never listened to such 
 a voice before. On the stage, no doubt, he had heard a few voices 
 as beautiful though never one more so and culture as great ; 
 but where had he ever heard anything like that quality which no 
 training can bestow, and which can only be described in one 
 word expression? There was something in this voice which 
 language can no more embody than it can give the melody of the 
 sky-lark, a power such as that which now and then electrifies a 
 great audience into wild enthusiasm, and sways the feeling of 
 a multitude as the wind sways the trees of a forest. 
 
 And it was another link in the chain of fate that this special 
 song should have greeted him. Irene sang it in compliance with 
 Erne's request a request seconded by others and with no idea 
 of Waldegrave's presence ; but to him it was like a personal mes- 
 sage conjuring up the saloon of the Villa Albani, the beautiful
 
 24:0 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Greek marble with its tale of tender love and of parting by the 
 fiat of inexorable destiny. The melody expressed it all, and with 
 it recalled the terrace with its wide outlook, the figure that 
 stood there and gazed toward the far blue hills, and then the 
 glance of eloquent pathos. When the song ceased, he turned to 
 Mrs. Falconer with irrepressible surprise. 
 
 "It is wonderful! " he said. " I do not think that I ever be- 
 fore heard such a voice off the stage." 
 
 "It is wonderful, is it not? " she replied, gratified by the im- 
 pression made on him. " I have never heard one more beautiful 
 anywhere." 
 
 "And so thoroughly cultivated," he said after a moment. 
 " May I ask where Miss Lescar has studied ? " 
 
 "In Milan. She has been for several years under Signor 
 C ." 
 
 " But C 's pupils are all intended for the stage and for 
 
 higli rank there. I have often heard that he will not train infe- 
 rior talent. It is not possible that Miss Lescar " 
 
 " Certainly not," said Mrs. Falconer, answering with the more 
 quickness and decision because she perceived several new-comers 
 advancing toward her. 
 
 Her attention being claimed by them, and the Prince still 
 monopolizing Lady Dorchester, Waldegrave moved away. He 
 found acquaintances on every side, for as he had been told 
 the best of the cosmopolitan society of Rome was here ; but he 
 felt little inclination to linger with the most famous man or by 
 the side of the most charming woman. A few words, a glid- 
 ing bow, and he passed on, holding the piano steadily in view, 
 where he saw Irene still standing, talking to a young Spaniard 
 who was well known in Rome as possessing a delightful tenor 
 voice. " No doubt he is going to sing," thought "Waldegrave, 
 with a sense of irritation. And his prophetic soul did not deceive 
 him, for a moment later the young man sat down, and, after pre- 
 luding with a light, brilliant touch, began a Spanish serenade full 
 of the suggestion of " cloudless climes and starry skies," of odor- 
 ous blossoms and opening lattices. It was charmingly rendered, 
 but there were some persons who shared "Waldegrave's sense of 
 impatience. A lady beside whom he had paused, said :
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 241 
 
 " That is very good indeed, but pray some one go and per- 
 suade Miss Lescar to sing again. One can hear Signer Mendoza 
 anywhere, but she only sings here. Count Waldegrave, do you 
 go! " 
 
 Waldegrave not unwillingly obeyed but he found himself 
 forestalled. When he reached Irene's side, the Marquis de Cha- 
 teaumesnil was standing before her, saying: 
 
 "Xow, mademoiselle, you will be kind enough to give us 
 another song, I hope." 
 
 "I shall be happy to do so, M. le Marquis," she answered, "if 
 you will tell me" 
 
 She paused. She saw Waldegrave, and alas, poor Irene ! 
 she had no power to conceal the effect his presence had upon her. 
 To the Marquis the change in her countenance was striking, 
 though nothing in his own countenance or manner betrayed his 
 perception of it. He only turned when Waldegrave bowed and 
 spoke. 
 
 "I have come," he said, "as an embassador of others, as well 
 as a suppliant in my own person, to beg that Miss Lescar will sing 
 again." 
 
 " I have just said that I shall be happy to do so," she replied, 
 somewhat recovering herself. " M. de Chateaumesnil has antici- 
 pated you." Then she looked at the Marquis with a friendly, 
 almost grateful glance. " I was about to ask what you wish to 
 hear ? " she said. 
 
 "I can not presume to dictate," he answered, "but there 
 was an exquisite air from ' La Gazza Ladra ' which you sang last 
 night." 
 
 " Uo doubt that will do as well as anything else," she said, 
 turning to the instrument, at which Erne seated himself, saying, 
 " I will play your accompaniment." 
 
 " What can be the matter ! " thought Waldegrave. " It is not 
 imagination on my part, nor shyness on hers. There is distinctly 
 some reason why she does not regard me with favor." 
 
 " So," thought the Marquis, " there is, or there has been, a 
 story and here is the hero of it ! " 
 
 Happily unconscious of these thoughts, Irene began her song, 
 thus affording relief to Erne's mind, who on his part thought that
 
 242 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the disturbing clement which Count Waldegrave represented 
 would probably tell upon her singing, and who played his accom- 
 paniment with great spirit when he heard the clear, soaring 
 melody into which she broke. Indeed, now that the first sur- 
 prise was over, the excitement had rather a stimulating effect 
 upon her. She never sang better and the Italian part of the 
 audience were carried away with enthusiasm. 
 
 That there were some dissenting spirits, however, was only 
 natural ; and it was an Englishwoman tall, good-looking, with 
 her golden hair worn in a tight clubbed knot, and her manners a 
 happy blending of stiffness and superciliousness who put up her 
 eye-glass and said to her companion : 
 
 " No doubt it is very fine. But did you ever hear anything 
 like it in a drawing-room before unless from a professional 
 singer ? " 
 
 " I grant you that it is not at all an ordinary drawing-room 
 performance," said the gentleman to whom she spoke, with a 
 laugh. And then he moved away, to join the group around the 
 singer and beg that she would not cease. 
 
 But Irene turned decidedly from the piano and resisted all 
 importunities. " No," she said, smiling, " because some people 
 enjoy my singing, I must not convert the evening into a soiree 
 musicale." 
 
 Of course, this elicited a number of sufficiently sincere 
 assurances that every one desired her to continue ; but, to 
 her relief, the Marquis cut the matter short by offering his 
 arm, saying : 
 
 "I think, mademoiselle, that you will like to refresh your 
 throat with an ice. Later in the evening, perhaps, you will sing 
 again for us." 
 
 It was a happy mode of escape. Irene, who knew instinctively 
 that Waldegrave was still standing by, and who had not ventured 
 to look toward him, took the offered arm eagerly. " Thanks," 
 she said quickly, " I shall be glad of a little refreshment." 
 
 So, the Marquis led her triumphantly away down the long 
 suite and through a curtained doorway into a room where 
 refreshments were served. There he placed her in a nook shaded 
 by broad-leaved plants, and asked what she would have.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 243 
 
 "A cup of tea," she replied. "That will be better than an 
 ice." 
 
 It was quickly brought, and the Marquis, after requesting an 
 ice for himself, sat down and looked at her for an instant in 
 silence. Glancing up, she met the dark, deep eyes, and with the 
 frankness which characterized her, said : 
 
 " What is the matter ? of what are you thinking ? " 
 
 "I am thinking," he answered, smiling slightly, "whether, 
 since this is your first appearance at one of Mrs. Falconer's large 
 receptions, you have felt no timidity in singing? " 
 
 " Not the least," she answered. " One or many what does 
 it matter ? Crowds are made up of units : it seems to me that 
 thought robs them of terror." 
 
 " It does not avail to rob them of terror for nervous debutantes 
 but that, I see, you are not, and could not be. I imagine that 
 yon have never known what it was to feel awo or fear of any 
 one." 
 
 " Do I give you that impression ? " she asked, not ill pleased. 
 " But I should not be honest if I did not confess that I have felt 
 both, of one person. That was my maestro. Ah, I used to trem- 
 ble before him how cold my hands would grow when I was 
 going to a lesson ! But I should not have been afraid if I had 
 not cared for him a great deal. I think affection makes one a 
 coward one fears to fall short, to disappoint a person one loves." 
 
 " Your maestro was very much to be envied if he inspired 
 such a sentiment," said the Marquis. "What was it about this 
 girl, he wondered, which gave a charm to her simplest utterances 
 which was like a wild fresh flavor to his mental palate ? " He 
 would be proud of the success of his pupil if he had heard you 
 to-night." 
 
 She shook her head. " No. He cares nothing for success 
 absolutely nothing for applause. He thinks only of art." 
 
 " And you ? " 
 
 " Oh, I think of both, but not enough of art to please the 
 maestro. I like the power of expressing in singing much that 
 seems to me inexpressible in words ; and I like the sense of sway- 
 ing others. I am afraid that I am fond of power," she added, in 
 the tone of making a serious confession.
 
 244 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 The Marquis smiled. " It would be strange if yon were not," 
 he said. " I imagine that you were born to exercise it. And " 
 a half-sigh. " you are fortunate in possessing a field as wide as 
 mankind." 
 
 She looked at him with quick sympathy ; recalling some words 
 that Mrs. Falconer had once spoken of him of powers and am- 
 bition without a field. But before she could answer, a lady ad- 
 vanced directly toward them, saying : 
 
 " How do you do, Miss Lescar. I have not been able to speak 
 to you before. Ah, M. le Marquis, I am glad to see you in Rome." 
 
 It was Lady Dorchester, who, after salutations and compli- 
 ments had been exchanged, sat down by Irene. 
 
 " I have been wanting to see you for some time in order to 
 quarrel with you," she began, frankly. " Why did you refuse to 
 come to me ? My reception is really not so much of an affair as 
 this. You need not have hesitated." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Irene, " but you must understand 
 that if I went to you I could not refuse to go to other houses ; 
 and I do not wish to do that." 
 
 " Very well. You shall come quietly to dinner some evening, 
 when no one to speak of can be the wiser. Will you agree to 
 that ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Irene, feeling that it would be ungracious to 
 refuse ; " I shall be happy to dine with you, quietly." 
 
 " We shall be very quiet do not fear. I agree with Lord 
 Chesterfield, that to be perfect a dinner-party should never be 
 less than the Graces or more than the Muses. I shall have one 
 Muse at least," said she, smiling. 
 
 "And Mademoiselle Lescar is a most obliging Muse," said the 
 Marquis. 
 
 " She ought to be," said Lady Dorchester. " Such an enchant- 
 ing voice has been given her that she may add to the happiness of 
 her fellow-creatures." 
 
 " I am sure," said Irene, " that I do my best toward that end, 
 if singing can accomplish it though it is a very transient happi- 
 ness which I have the power to bestow." 
 
 " For that matter, all happiness is transient," said Lady Dor- 
 chester. " But" with a glance at Irene's empty tea-cup " do
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 245 
 
 not let me detain you. I feared that I should not find another 
 opportunity of speaking to you. As for you, M. le Marquis, do 
 you not mean to come to see me ? " 
 
 " I shall do myself that honor at the earliest possible mo- 
 ment," replied the Marquis. " I have not been aware until to- 
 night of your presence in Rome. Indeed, I have been here only 
 a few days." 
 
 " You seem to know Lady Dorchester very well," said Ire'ne, 
 as they made their way back to the salon. 
 
 " I have known her for a long time," he replied. " She is a 
 special friend of my cousin Lady Falconer and a very agreeable 
 woman." 
 
 "Yes, I think so. English people are agreeable when ono 
 knows them ; but they are very hard to know." 
 
 " Very," said the Marquis, smiling, " and the result does not 
 always repay one for the effort required. Strange to say, also, 
 they are rather proud of their stiffness and reserve." 
 
 " It is very strange to one who has known the gracious sweet- 
 ness of Italian manners," said Irene. " There seems so much 
 truer dignity in the one than in the other." 
 
 " Oh, there is nothing comparable to the charming grace of 
 Italian manner. Even French courtesy is poor compared to it. 
 And when one speaks of Germans " 
 
 " Do not speak of them," said Irene, with a quick gesture of 
 disgust. " I abhor Germans and everything connected with 
 them ! " 
 
 A gentleman, whom they were passing at the instant, heard 
 her words and turned. It was Waldegrave. 
 
 "So that is le mot de Venigme!" thought the young man, 
 looking after her. " She abhors Germans. Well, I have no 
 ground to be offended, for J dislike Americans. We are there- 
 fore fairly quits. But what reason can she have for such an 
 abhorrence? " 
 
 He turned back and continued a conversation in which he 
 had been engaged ; but he could not forget the words, nor their 
 heart-felt emphasis. And, when he finally moved away, it was 
 with the definite intention of seeking Miss Lescar, and discovering 
 whether an abhorrence of Germans in general made it impossible
 
 246 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 for her to tolerate any individual of that nation. He represented 
 this to himself as a matter of abstract curiosity; but there can be 
 no doubt that he was a little piqued, and determined if possible to 
 conquer the liking of the disdainful young lady. 
 
 This time Irene was not tbrown off her guard by surprise. 
 She saw him before he reached the corner where she sat talking 
 to a painter who was one of Mrs. Falconer's most frequent in- 
 formal visitors. In this way she had time to brace herself, and it 
 was with an air of wholly ordinary courtesy that she turned when 
 he approached. 
 
 "I hope, Miss Lescar," he said, " that you mean to fulfill your 
 implied promise to sing again this evening." 
 
 "Did I imply such a promise?" she asked. "I think not. 
 According to my recollection, it was M. de Chateaumesnil who 
 said something of the kind ; but I am not bound by that." 
 
 " Certainly not ; but one may be allowed to trust that you will, 
 at least, prove him a true prophet? " 
 
 She shook her head. "lean not 'sing again this evening," 
 she said. "It is not" she looked at the painter with a smile 
 " like the evenings when I sing for you and a few others, Mr. 
 Neville." 
 
 "No," said the pleasant Irishman, answering her smile. "I 
 am afraid we are not as considerate of you as we might be on 
 those occasions." 
 
 "I have often told yon that it is a pleasure to me to sing," she 
 eaid, simply. " I never weary of it." 
 
 " What large drafts upon her good-nature Miss Lescar encour- 
 ages by such a remark ! " said Waldegrave. 
 
 "Not larger than she honors," replied Mr. Neville. "lean 
 testify to that." 
 
 " You ought," said Irene, " after having made me sing through 
 a whole book of Irish melodies the other evening." 
 
 "Ah, but what happiness it gave me ! " said he, with effusion. 
 "I could hardly sleep that night, the familiar strains recalled so 
 many memories." 
 
 " And do you call that happiness ! " said she, expressively. 
 
 " Miss Lescar is evidently incredulous of the pleasures of mem- 
 ory," said Waldegrave.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 27 
 
 " Because I think there is generally more sadness than pleasure 
 in it," she replied. 
 
 " You are young to have found that out," said the painter. 
 " It is true after a manner but, for myself, I agree neither with 
 Dante nor Tennyson ahout ' a sorrow's crown of sorrow.' On 
 the contrary, I think it a truer sentiment to say : 
 
 1 Give me the pleasure with the pain, 
 So would I live and love again.' " 
 
 " And, fortunately," said "Waldegrave, " past pleasure is always 
 heightened in memory, whereas past pain is lessened." 
 
 " That must depend upon the nature both of the pleasure and 
 the pain," said Irene. " Some pleasure could not be heightened ; 
 some pain, I am sure, could never grow less." 
 
 Again there came into her voice the pathetic thrill which 
 Waldegrave bad heard on the terrace of the Villa Albani. And 
 was it that, or his own sympathy, which made him certain that 
 such a pain or what she believed to be such a pain was part of 
 her life ? He looked at her, and for the first time she owned to 
 herself that there was something neither unpleasing nor unkindly 
 in that clear, penetrating glance. 
 
 " There are few pains of that character," he said, " else life 
 would be a much more miserable affair than it is. The one recom- 
 mendation of time is, that if it robs us of our joys, it also heals 
 our wounds." 
 
 "But surgeons will tell you that some wounds never heal," 
 said she, meeting his glance with eyes in which he seemed to see 
 at once the shadow of pathos and the fire of passion. 
 
 "Ah, they are rare happily very rare those wounds," said 
 Mr. Neville. "According to my experience," added he, philo- 
 sophically, " the most enduring wounds we receive in life are 
 those which we suffer in our vanity. Grief and disappoint- 
 ment may be forgotten, but who forgets a blow to his amour 
 propre f " 
 
 " "We remember such blows," said "Waldegrave, " but we gene- 
 rally dignify our sensations under them with very fine names 
 euch as wounded feelings and insulted honor." 
 
 "Then, I presume," said Ir6ne, "that, since you are both so
 
 24:8 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 well aware of this, you would not suffer from a blow of the 
 kind." 
 
 "That is another thing," said the painter. "I may know 
 that it is my vanity which is wounded, yet the vanity suffers all 
 the same. It will suffer if you refuse to sing for me the next 
 time I come," added he, smiling at her. 
 
 " There is no danger of that," she replied, putting her hand 
 in his as he rose and bade her good-night. 
 
 " I am disappointed that I can not hope to have the pleasure 
 of hearing you sing again to-night," said Waldegrave, as Mr. 
 Neville walked away. "It is so great a pleasure for, as you 
 must be aware, your voice is in all respects exceptional." 
 
 "I know, of course, that it is good," she answered. "If I 
 doubted every one else, I could not doubt my maestro on that 
 point." 
 
 " Not, certainly, if you mean C . I was surprised when 
 
 Mrs. Falconer told me that he had been your teacher ; for, as a 
 general rule, he only trains singers for the stage." 
 
 "He hoped he still hopes to persuade me to go on the 
 stage," she said, quietly. 
 
 "But you" said "Waldegrave, quickly, "you do not think of 
 it?" 
 
 "Why not?" she asked some impulse making her speak. 
 " Perhaps the maestro is right. Perhaps Nature intends me for 
 it." 
 
 " I think," said "Waldegrave, who (as he reflected afterward) 
 had no right to express any thought in the matter, " that Nature 
 intended you for a very different destiny." 
 
 " You know nothing of me," she said, almost curtly. " You 
 can not tell how ambitious I may be ; and what other field for 
 ambition have I ? I may love power and I shall surely find it 
 there." 
 
 "Pardon me," he said. "I do indeed know little of you 
 but that little is enough to make me quite sure that you would 
 choose what is fictitious at the cost of what is really brilliant in 
 life, by taking such a step. People for whom it is the only escape 
 from obscurity, may be tempted by the kind of fame and power 
 that the stage offers ; but you " He paused expressively.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 249 
 
 " Let me remind you again that you know nothing of me of 
 my outward circumstances, or my inward needs," she said. 
 " And it is a happiness to sing to pour out one's own soul, and 
 feel that one is playing on the souls of others as if they formed 
 some great instrument." 
 
 "I do not doubt that it is," he said, smiling at the light which 
 sprang into her eyes. " But since you love music so well, let me 
 ask why you dislike Germans so much who have, at least, the 
 merit of sharing that passion with you? " 
 
 " How do you know that I dislike Germans ? " she inquired. 
 
 " I regret to say, from the best possible authority yourself. 
 I heard you state in the most forcible manner that you 'ab- 
 horred ' them and that being in the order of a blow to one's 
 self-love, you see that I have not forgotten it." 
 
 "I am sorry that you should have overheard my speech," she 
 said, without, however, manifesting any of the embarrassment 
 which might have seemed natural under the circumstances, " but 
 I can not possibly retract the words. I dislike Germans very 
 much ; and if they had a monopoly of music which, fortunately, 
 they have not I should probably dislike that too." 
 
 " And may I be permitted to ask the ground for such an 
 intense aversion?" he said, amused rather than offended by the 
 frankness and decision of her tone. 
 
 Her face changed the mobile face which, with its play of 
 expression and swift lights and shades, he had begun to feel it a 
 fascination to watch. 
 
 " It does not matter what the ground is," she said, coldly. 
 " Nothing can change it nothing can alter my opinion." 
 
 She looked away from him across the room as she had 
 looked across the Oampagna from the terrace of the Villa Albani 
 and, as she did so, her eyes met those of Stanhope. She col- 
 ored suddenly, for something in his expression made her aware 
 that he ,w as regarding her keenly and not approvingly. "Walde- 
 grave saw the color that suffused the white skin, and involunta- 
 rily glanced in the direction of her gaze. At that moment 
 Stanhope detached himself from a group and advanced toward 
 them. 
 
 " I am sent, mademoiselle," he said, " to ask if you will not
 
 250 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 sing a song of which Lady Dorchester is specially fond, and 
 which she would like to hear before she goes." 
 
 " I suppose I can not refuse Lady Dorchester, though I have 
 declined to sing several times," she answered. " But you must 
 ask the name of the song, Mr. Stanhope." 
 
 " You can ask it yourself en route to the piano," said Stanhope, 
 . offering his arm. 
 
 She turned with a glance of apology toward "Waldegrave, who 
 said with a smile, "I am glad that we are to be indebted to Lady 
 Dorchester." 
 
 Nevertheless, as he watched the graceful figure move away, he 
 was conscious of an impression that, let him do what he would, 
 he was not likely to find favor in Miss Lescar's eyes. 
 
 " Well," said Lady Dorchester, as he was taking her down to 
 her carriage half an hour later, " what is the result of this even- 
 ing? Have you discovered whether it was shyness or hauteur? " 
 
 " I have discovered that it was neither," he answered, " bnt a 
 dislike to every one who is unfortunate enough to be of Teutonic 
 birth." 
 
 "Did she tell you so?" 
 
 "Distinctly. There is no doubt of her sentiments on that 
 point." 
 
 "And did she also tell you why she dislikes them? " 
 
 " No that is still left in mystery. But a woman's likes and 
 dislikes have generally a personal basis." 
 
 " Generally speaking, I am afraid they have. So in this in- 
 stance some particular German is no doubt accountable for Miss 
 Lescar's aversion to all Germans." 
 
 " Or some Frenchman, perhaps I suppose you observed the 
 Marquis de Chateaumesnil in attendance on her." 
 
 " Ah, but the Marquis is a suitor of Mrs. Falconer. I know 
 that positively from my friend Lady Falconer, who is his cousin 
 and her sister-in-law.. Therefore, yon can not place the blame 
 of Miss Lescar's dislike to Germans on him." 
 
 "I have no desire to place it anywhere," said Waldegrave, 
 smiling. " ' "What is Hecuba to me, or I to Hecuba ' ? " 
 
 "A good deal, I fancy," thought Lady Dorchester, after her
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 251 
 
 carriage-door was closed and she rolled away. " Unless I am 
 much mistaken, you are more interested than you are willing to 
 acknowledge or believe." 
 
 He was certainly not willing to acknowledge it. For, as he 
 buttoned his overcoat and, lighting a cigar, walked away from the 
 portone, he said to himself: 
 
 " So she wishes she is half resolved to become a professional 
 singer ! It will be desecration if it is allowed, but I am glad she 
 was led to speak of it. If there had been any danger for me of 
 folly such as that exquisite face might lead another man into, this 
 would end it. Now I am safe." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " I AM by no means easy in mind with regard to Irene and 
 Count Waldegrave," said Stanhope, meditatively. 
 
 The person to whom he spoke was, of course, Mrs. Falconer. 
 It was the day after her reception, and they were alone in her 
 drawing-room. Stanhope had asked for Irene, but, having been 
 told that she was gone out with Mrs. Yance, he sat down content- 
 edly to a tete-d-tete with Mrs. Falconer. There was everything 
 in his surroundings to promote contentment. The picturesque 
 room, filled with objects which it delighted the eye to rest upon, 
 was also fragrant with flowers; the long windows opened on a bal- 
 cony set with plants, above which a sapphire sky looked in, and 
 there was a glimpse of towers and domes. A graceful head was 
 also part of the prospect for, in seating herself, Mrs. Falconer had 
 taken a chair near one of these windows, and, after Stanhope's 
 words, she looked at him with an interrogative glance. 
 
 " What have you observed to cause you uneasiness ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " One can hardly describe such things," he answered. " I sup- 
 pose that I have really observed nothing which would strike me 
 with regard to any one else ; but this juxtaposition is so strange 
 that I can not help feeling it unsafe."
 
 252 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Then why not end it ?" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " By telling Count Waldegrave who Irene is." 
 
 " Ah, you see one must have a reason for such a step. The 
 time for the information would have been when he asked an in- 
 troduction to her ; hut that time is past. I can not go to him 
 now and say, ' This young lady is your uncle's daughter,' with- 
 out having some reason for making the disclosure. As yet I have 
 none. He has only talked to her for a few minutes, as any other 
 man might." 
 
 "I observed the manner in which you ended the conversa- 
 tion between them last night." 
 
 " It was time to do so. ffis interest was deepening, and her 
 antagonism of feeling being roused. Yon know how expressive 
 her face is. I could tell the whole progress of the conversation 
 and when she turned from him with an air of disdain, I judged 
 it time to interfere." 
 
 "What had he said to evoke disdain? "When I observe J 
 them, they seemed to be talking very amicably." 
 
 " I fancy it was a surface amicableness at least on Irene's 
 part. But I did not ask what he said. No doubt it was some 
 chance remark which struck her hidden wound. That is the 
 worst of such wounds. Being hidden, they are always likely to 
 be rubbed against." 
 
 " Yes and hers can never be healed. You know she speaks 
 of it very seldom. Only twice has she ever spoken of it to me 
 but on both occasions it was a revelation of deep, bitter, corrod- 
 ing passion. Seeing what the wrong is to her, and what its effect 
 must be on her character and life, I do not wonder at the moth- 
 er's dying request. But she might have spared it. This girl will 
 never forgive. She is not strong enough for that, and she is too 
 strong to ignore what has been done, and content herself with the 
 things life puts within her reach." 
 
 "She is young," said Stanhope. "Her misfortune and her 
 excuse lie in that." 
 
 "I wish all other misfortunes were as easily surmounted," 
 said Mrs. Falconer, smiling. "But what reconciling influence 
 will later life bring? She says that she is resolved not to marry.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 253 
 
 Such a declaration as that means nothing from the lips of most 
 girls ; hut it means something from her." 
 
 "No doubt it does," replied Stanhope. " What led her to say 
 so?" 
 
 " She misunderstood me, and thought that I was going to 
 plead Lionel's suit ; so she anticipated and much surprised me by 
 announcing first her indifference to him which I did not doubt 
 and secondly her resolution never to marry, because I give 
 you her own words she ' will not take voluntarily a lower rauk 
 than that which should be hers, nor allow a king to feel that he 
 stooped to her.' " 
 
 "Poor child!" said Stanhope " poor, proud, foolish child! 
 Yet it is hard ; for in such case a man can make name and rank 
 for himself; but what can a woman do! " 
 
 " Like Madame Lescar, she can ennoble a hard fate by nobly 
 bearing it." 
 
 " True but Prince Waldegrave's daughter has not the quali- 
 ties to fit her for such a role. The ambition she has inherited 
 from him, and the sense of power which comes from the posses- 
 sion of high gifts, make her position in life intolerable to her. 
 It is impossible to foresee what her future will be. She is an 
 enigma." 
 
 "But a charming one." 
 
 "Yes, she is charming to those who see only the brilliant 
 surface, and know nothing of the volcano underneath." 
 
 "Do not speak so. It is not a volcano likely to harm any one 
 but herself." 
 
 " Unless it should burst forth upon Prince Waldegrave. I do 
 not wish to do her injustice even in my thoughts and only to 
 you would I speak of what has occurred to me. But has it oc- 
 curred to you that some such desire may have been the motive 
 for her consent to know Count Waldegrave ? " 
 
 "'Some such desire' you are very obscure. What kind of 
 desire do you mean ? " 
 
 " It is more easily felt than expressed. If I said ' a desire to 
 do him harm,' it would express more than I mean." 
 
 "I hope so," said Mrs. Falconer, warmly. "I am sure you 
 are unjust in entertaining the faintest form of such a thought.
 
 254 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Let her faults be what they will, they are all of a noble order. 
 I know that she would if she could make the author of her 
 mother's wrongs feel what her sufferings were but not by any 
 act of petty revenge, even if knowing Count Waldegrave could 
 bring such an act within her reach." 
 
 " He is probably the only person in the world to whom his 
 uncle is attached," said Stanhope, " and to destroy his peace of 
 mind would be a mode of reprisal." 
 
 "Mr. Stanhope, I will not listen to another word! Never 
 talk again of women's fancies running away with them ! Yours 
 have run quite as far as any woman's could, and outleaped proba- 
 bility as completely. Can even a novelist's imagination conceive 
 Count Waldegrave's peace of mind destroyed? Count Walde- 
 grave, who is simply a reproduction of his heartless, ambitious 
 uncle ! " 
 
 " May a novelist be permitted to remind you, as a matter not 
 of imagination but of fact, that at the outset of his career that 
 ' heartless and ambitious uncle ' committed the folly of marrying 
 a beautiful and charming woman, simply because she was beauti- 
 ful and charming ? And if the nephew is a reproduction of the 
 uncle, it is a reproduction with difference. This man has a side 
 to his character which Prince "Waldegrave if one may judge by 
 his face has not." 
 
 " And that is ? " 
 
 " A side which, if not poetic in itself, is vulnerable to poetic 
 influences. In other words, he has imagination to be roused, and 
 the capability of ideal sympathies. You can tell whether or not 
 Irene's character is likely to possess attraction for such a nature." 
 
 "It is very likely. Her character possesses attraction for 
 every one capable of appreciating it. But however warm Count 
 Waldegrave's appreciation should become, I confess that I 
 could not consider the matter very seriously. ' Men have died 
 and worms have eaten them, but not for love ' and what 
 was true in the sixteenth century is doubly true in the nine- 
 teenth." 
 
 " I know your opinion on that head," said Stanhope, smiling 
 slightly. " I should not like to be the man who came to you with 
 a tale of passion."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 255 
 
 " Tales of passion have gone out of fashion," said she, her 
 lip curling half scornfully, half impatiently. " TVho tells them, 
 who believes in them now ? " 
 
 "I fancy that the world is much as it ever was," said Stan- 
 hope; "and while we grow cynical in drawing-rooms, people 
 below our windows are making love in the old manner." 
 
 " Perhaps so. But in the world in our world people marry, 
 as they do everything else, from motives of interest." 
 
 " That depends upon the people. The majority of the world 
 undoubtedly seek interest in all things. But who knows, or ought 
 to know, better than you, that there are many exceptions." He 
 paused a moment, then went on quietly, " Since we are on the 
 subject of marriage, I wonder if you will permit me to be perhaps 
 a little presumptuous ? " 
 
 She was silent for an instant looking down at her hands, 
 which lay clasped together on the velvet of her dress before 
 answering: 
 
 " I have no fear that you will be presumptuous. You may be 
 as frank as you please." 
 
 But, after the permission was given, he did not seem in haste 
 to avail himself of it. He looked out at the sapphire of the sky, 
 at the soft roundness of a distant dome, and it was plain that it 
 cost him an effort to speak at last. 
 
 "No one is more fully aware than I am how delightful your 
 present life is and no one would feel more deeply any change in 
 it," he said. " But, naturally, there must be a change. I have 
 always looked forward to your making a brilliant marriage, and I 
 have only feared that it might prove more brilliant than happy. 
 But I believe that you have now an opportunity to make a mar- 
 riage which to brilliance would combine as fair a prospect of hap- 
 piness as as is possible in any marriage, I presume," he ended, 
 rather uncheerfully. 
 
 She lifted her eyes and looked at him with an expression which 
 he did not understand. 
 
 " May I beg you to be more clear ? " she said. " What oppor- 
 tunity have I of making a brilliant marriage, with a fair prospect 
 of happiness combined ? " 
 
 " You may have many, for aught I know," he answered, smiling
 
 256 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 a little. " But I imagined you would be aware that I alluded to 
 the Marquis de Chateaumesnil." 
 
 "Has M. de Chateaumesnil asked you to speak for him? " she 
 demanded, with something like a flash in her glance. 
 
 " Certainly not," he replied. " But I am acquainted with his 
 sentiments and hopes the ice was broken one night in Algiers 
 when we smoked our cigars together by the sea, and since then I 
 have heard much of them : so, thinking that my opinion might 
 have a little weight with you, I felt as if I ought to speak. I hope," 
 he added, after another pause, "that you know I have only one 
 end to serve your happiness." 
 
 " And do you think that would be served in what is called ' a 
 brilliant marriage' a marriage for rank?" she asked with the 
 faintest possible shade of bitterness in her voice. 
 
 "No," he answered, "I do not think so, if such a marriage 
 were based only on the advantages it brought. But if united with 
 these advantages were qualities to insure happiness, I certainly 
 think that Nature intended you for a gran.de dame, to fill and 
 adorn a great position." 
 
 " It is the old story," she said ; " you think me very ambi- 
 tious." 
 
 " You can not deny that you are : you can not say that you 
 would be satisfied in obscurity, or that it is not your delight to be 
 on a social pinnacle to surround yourself with distinguished and 
 cultured people." 
 
 "I can do that as I am." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. But it is too much to expect that a woman 
 of your age and with your attractions will remain as you are. 
 Besides, you would like, even better than the freedom and pleasure 
 of your present existence, to unite your life with that of a man 
 capable of winning distinction ; you would like to aid in his suc- 
 cess, and see it reflected back upon yourself." 
 
 "You have certainly paid me the compliment of studying me 
 closely," she said, flushing slightly. 
 
 "Yes, I have studied you closely," he replied, quietly. "I 
 know what will be best for you. I do not wish to be understood 
 as saying that the Marquis de Chateaumesnil is altogether worthy 
 of you. I have never seen a man who was. But with high rank
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 257 
 
 he unites the power to achieve distinction, should circumstances 
 ever be propitious, and a character which, after long and close 
 observation, I can earnestly commend. He is brave, generous, and 
 unselfish in no ordinary degree." 
 
 She did not reply for several minutes, but looked silently at 
 the deep-blue Roman sky. The momentary flush had faded from 
 her face and left it a little paler than usual, and her eyes, when she 
 turned them back on him, seemed deeper and darker from the 
 contrast. 
 
 " You know," she said in a low but distinct voice, " the story of 
 my marriage you know what shipwreck overtook my hopes then. 
 Can you, therefore, advise me to marry a man whose past has been 
 much the same as the past of Ralph Falconer ? Should I not be 
 mad if I did not profit by experience ? Should I deserve com- 
 passion if I found myself a second time at the mercy of a selfish 
 epicurean, a profligate spendthrift ? " 
 
 " There is generally a measure of risk in answering for another 
 person," he said, "but I do not feel that I incur any in declaring 
 that you would have nothing of the kind to fear from M. de 
 Chateaumesnil. The follies of his youth are over over not 
 merely in lapse of time, but in change of character, which makes 
 their recurrence impossible. Of selfishness which is the founda- 
 tion of epicurean indulgence I have found him conspicuously 
 free. His matured taste revolts from any form of profligacy, and 
 he has too much sense to be a spendthrift. Those things which 
 lower him in your opinion were the mere effervescence of youth- 
 ful vitality. Time, trouble, the stern realities of suffering and 
 death which war brought, have wholly changed him. The gen- 
 tilhomme remains keenly sensitive to honor in all forms and 
 with his heart set on high ambitions, though he is not willing to 
 sell his God or his king to gain them." 
 
 "You are an eloquent advocate I have observed that be- 
 fore," she said. '' But M. de Chateaumesnil must plead his own 
 cause. A man who fails to do that does not deserve and should 
 not expect an answer." 
 
 "M. de Chateaumesnil has no other intention," said Stan- 
 hope. " It was because I am aware that he means to do so, that 
 I felt bound to tell you what I have found him to be. I know
 
 258 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 that you have some reliance on my opinion ; and I know also 
 that you have done him some injustice in your estimate of his 
 character." 
 
 " Probably I have," she replied. Her eyes turned through 
 the open window again. " One may be mistaken about many 
 things," she said. "And, after all, what does anything matter? " 
 
 " Such a sentiment is not like you," he said, rising. Perhaps 
 (she thought) now that his friendly task was discharged he was 
 glad to go. There was certainly an air of relief in his movement. 
 But through his bronzed skin he too looked a little pale, like a 
 man who is holding himself in some sort of a tension. " Believe 
 that I have thought that I think only of your happiness," he 
 said, standing before her. "I would not wish you to marry a 
 prince, unless he had qualities to secure that." 
 
 "But what are the qualities to secure it? " she asked, as she 
 rose also and stood before him. " That, Mr. Stanhope, with all 
 your powers of observation, you do not know." Then she held 
 out her hand. " Good-by," she said, with a smile. " You will 
 be satisfied, I suppose, if I promise to consider what you have 
 said but I make no further promise. Understand that." 
 
 " I understand," he replied. And then, leaving a message for 
 Irene, he went away. 
 
 But he carried the memory of that smile with him. It haunt- 
 ed and perplexed him. What did it mean ? It had contained a 
 meaning to which he felt he had not a key, unless Suddenly 
 Godwin's face rose before him and Godwin's words seemed 
 sounding in his ears. "lean not understand how a man who 
 has a chance, can, from faint-heartedness or carelessness, fail to 
 put forth his hand and seize it." But he dismissed the thought 
 as angrily as he had dismissed the original suggestion. "Am I 
 a fool," he thought, " that I should remember such folly ? And 
 even if it were true, what then ? A chance can not be said to 
 exist when a man must forfeit his self-respect to seize it."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 259 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LADY DORCHESTER did not long delay in arranging that din- 
 ner-party which was to be restricted to the number of the Muses. 
 Indeed, it was within that number for it comprised only eight 
 persons, including the hostess. Besides Mrs. Falconer and Irene, 
 there were Colonel and Mrs. Bevis pleasant English people and 
 cousins of Lady Dorchester the Marquis de Chateaumesnil, 
 Count Waldegrave, and Mr. Ffulkes, a young attache of the Brit- 
 ish embassy, brimming over with musical enthusiasm and aesthetic 
 culture. 
 
 " Now, have I not done well? I am sure you can not feel 
 that this is not quiet enough ! " said Lady Dorchester when she 
 met Irene, who replied that there was certainly nothing alarming 
 in the size of the assembly. If she smiled at the same time, it 
 was because she thought the lady's solicitude was solely on ac- 
 count of her singing. But in that she was mistaken. Not even 
 the perfect voice and flawless method, of which all the cognoscenti 
 in Eome were talking, would have wrought upon Lady Dorches- 
 ter, without the beauty and grace which were as remarkable as 
 the voice and the charm that was like a soul to both. Moreover, 
 she had a half-mischievous desire to see what would be the result 
 of feeding the flame of interest which she felt very sure existed 
 in Count Waldegrave's breast. " He is such an icicle, I shall be 
 glad to see him melted a little," she said to herself; and, with no 
 more fear of consequences than a child has in applying a match 
 to gunpowder, she proceeded to subject this icicle to what she 
 conceived to be a melting influence. 
 
 It was rather a freezing one, the icicle himself thought, when 
 Irene acknowledged his presence by a slight bow and then turned 
 with a warm smile to the Marquis. Mr. Ffulkes also received 
 a, share of her sunshine, being evidently on a footing of cordial 
 acquaintance. Indeed, he was one of her most ardent admirers 
 one of those who had done much to waken curiosity with regard 
 to her. Mr. Ffulkes's admiration was always purely aesthetic and 
 abstract, but it had great weight. When he turned from the con- 
 templation of Botticelli and the study of Carpaccio to commend
 
 260 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the beauty of a living woman, people felt that she must, in one 
 way or another, be worth looking at. Frequently his beauties 
 were of a type which did not accord with preconceived standards, 
 but he had been understood to say that Miss Lescar belonged to 
 u the most intellectual type of antique loveliness " ; and those who 
 entered the galleries were happily able to verify this for them- 
 selves. 
 
 Mrs. Bevis, though lately arrived, had already heard of her, and 
 she put up her eye-glass with much curiosity as the slender, stately 
 figure in black, relieved only by white roses, followed Mrs. Fal- 
 coner into the drawing-room. 
 
 " Oh, she is beautiful ! " she exclaimed involuntarily. " What 
 a charming face and what radiant eyes ! One is generally disap- 
 pointed when one has heard so much of anybody, but disappoint- 
 ment is not possible here." 
 
 "Miss Lescar is very beautiful," observed Waldegrave to 
 whom she spoke " and beautiful in an uncommon style." 
 
 "Yes so spirituelle. And she has a phenomenal voice be- 
 sides ? It is really too much for one person 1 " 
 
 " One does not think so when one knows the person," said he. 
 
 The lady looked at him quickly. " I dare say not," she re- 
 plied, with a smile. 
 
 When dinner was announced, Waldegrave, who took in Mrs. 
 Bevis, found himself at table opposite Irene, who had been 
 taken in by Mr. Ffulkes, and was seated between him and the 
 Marquis. Although placed thus advantageously, it was some 
 time before they exchanged even a glance, notwithstanding that 
 each was intensely conscious of the presence of the other. With 
 Irene this consciousness was something to be resented : she 
 would gladly have ignored it in reality as in appearance. With 
 Waldegrave it was something so new that he was surprised by its 
 novelty. When ever before had he found himself listening with 
 eager attention to catch the sound of a voice not addressed to him, 
 or irresistibly impelled to let his gaze wander toward a face that 
 more and more seemed to him the expression of all that was most 
 intellectually delicate and spiritually refined ? 
 
 " That girl has a most fascinating face," said Mrs. Bevis, sud- 
 denlyspeaking, as it were, his thought " it drives one to stare
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 261 
 
 in a very ill-bred manner ; it has such vivid changes that one has 
 a curiosity to see what it will express next." Then in a lower 
 tone : " Does it strike you how well it harmonizes with that fine, 
 high-bred countenance of the Marquis de Chateaumesnil ? Of Mr. 
 Ffulkes's appearance one can not say much. Though an apostle of 
 beauty, he is certainly not beautiful." 
 
 "If Mr. Ffulkes had been allowed to make himself, he would 
 have appeared before the world in a different form," said Walde- 
 grave, smiling. " As it is, he does his best to correct the mistakes 
 of nature. Unless basely slandered, he lives on a most ethereal 
 diet, in order to keep down any possible grossness of form or 
 spirit." 
 
 " A bunch of grapes and a glass of water ? I have heard so 
 though he appears to be devoting himself to the entrees in a very 
 commendable manner now. But what is he saying? " 
 
 Mr. Ffulkes was saying, in reply to some question or assertion 
 of Colonel Bevis, that culture was an imperative duty laid upon 
 every one ; that no one had a right to neglect a single power, to 
 crush a single aspiration ; and that human society would only 
 reach an ideal standard when it was composed of people who, as 
 far as possible, were fully rounded on all sides. 
 
 " Then you must have an ideal state of leisure to accomplish 
 your standard," said Colonel Bevis, " and people must recognize 
 no duty except the duty of culture. If a man does recognize the 
 obligation to do anything else, life is not long enough to grasp all 
 arts, to perfect himself in all accomplishments and in all knowl- 
 edge." 
 
 Mr. Ffulkes was understood to reply that all knowledge was 
 not essential : that much of it was irrelevant and added nothing 
 to the grace and loveliness of life. 
 
 *' Oh, it is only grace and loveliness of which you are think- 
 ing ! " said Colonel Bevis. " But even on that ground I don't see 
 that your position is tenable. The man who paints pictures adds 
 to the grace and loveliness of life, but he is not fully rounded ac- 
 cording to your view, because painting is only one beautifying 
 influence ; and unless he neglects his special art he certainly can 
 not also write books, model statues, or build bridges, like Leo- 
 nardo da Vinci."
 
 262 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "I am glad you have spoken of Leonardo da Vinci," said Mr. 
 Ffulkes, "as he is the great type of many-sided genius, the great 
 proof that it is possible for one man to do many things equally 
 well-" 
 
 " But he can hardly be called a type," interposed Mrs. Falconer. 
 " He stands alone sui generis.' 1 '' 
 
 "And he was a supreme genius," added Lady Dorchester, 
 " whereas your painters and poets and architects generally are 
 clever men of talent no more." 
 
 " I was going to say," went on Mr. Ffulkes, waving these re- 
 marks aside with one slight motion of a lily-like hand, "that 
 Leonardo da Vinci proves what is possible even in the line of 
 achievement, though I was thinking chiefly of appreciation." 
 
 " But somebody must achieve something," said Colonel Bevis. 
 " Even in art you can scarcely propose that the world shall rest 
 on what has been done." 
 
 " The world appears likely to rest on it," said Mr. Ffulkes in a 
 tone of severe significance. "There are few modern works of 
 art worthy of any consideration. We can do nothing better now 
 than devote ourselves to the reverent study of the past." 
 
 " That is not a very bright outlook for the future," Colonel 
 Bevis replied, with an irreverent laugh. 
 
 " Consideration of the future does not play a large part or, in 
 fact, any part at all in Mr. Ffulkes's creed," said the Marquis. 
 " It is a curious and significant fact," he went on, ''that in this 
 feverish nineteenth century, with its war-cries of material prog- 
 ress, a school should arise that preaches absolute indifference to 
 such progress, and counsels its disciples to sit down in a world of 
 beautiful sights and exquisite sounds and regard the struggling 
 mass of humanity with mingled scorn and disgust." 
 
 " Pardon me," replied Mr. Ffulkes, " you are mistaken. As far 
 as we can be said to preach at all, we try to urge upon all men 
 the calming and satisfying influences of beauty." 
 
 " I should like to hear them urged upon a mob of Communists, 
 mad for ' la Revolution Sociale ' which is to put it out of any 
 one's power to surround himself with sights and sounds of beauty," 
 said Count "Waldegrave with the sarcastic smile which made many 
 people declare that his face was disagreeable.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 263 
 
 The apostle of beauty looked at him with something like a 
 flash in his usually serene glance. 
 
 " I think," he said, "that you and I are of one mind with re- 
 gard to what should be done with the gentlemen who cry for ' la 
 Kevolution Sociale.' " 
 
 " Are we ? " said Waldegrave. " My method would be sum- 
 mary, and not at all in the order of the calming and satisfying in- 
 fluences of beauty." 
 
 "No sane man could think that tigers athirst for blood would 
 be amenable to such influences," said Mr. Ffulkes, with dignity. 
 
 Then he turned and addressed himself to Irene ; but he found 
 her attention wandering to what the Marquis was saying to Wal- 
 degrave. 
 
 "Your method would be very summary, I do not doubt," he 
 observed, " and for the leaders I grant you that it could not be 
 too summary. But there are the deluded masses, worked upon 
 through their suffering and ignorance how would you deal with 
 tivmt" 
 
 " There is but one way with the strong hand," replied the 
 other, while Irene, looking at him, saw the resolute expression of 
 power that came into his face. 
 
 The Marquis smiled. " I am little more than a philosophical 
 observer of the political problems that are convulsing modern so- 
 ciety," he said, " but what strikes me chiefly is that, although we 
 are informed that this is an age when for the first time the people 
 have secured or are about to secure certain rights and privileges 
 supposed to be theirs, there has really never been a time when 
 this same people in the sense of the great multitude of mankind 
 are likely to fare worse. For where have they a friend? In 
 the darkest days of the middle ages there was the great power of 
 the Church that took the serf by the hand and bade baron and 
 king see in him a brother; that stood by the throne and said to 
 Caesar, * Thus far shalt thou go and no farther.' But the kings 
 found that power a burden and constraint, so they bade it go forth 
 from their courts. It can not be said that they have gained much, 
 for they are now trembling before the menacing form of Socialism 
 the Frankenstein monster that has been evoked by the doctrine 
 of free thought and free speech. But, meanwhile, how do the
 
 264 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 people fare ? There are rulers like yourself, Count Waldegrave, 
 ready to grind them to powder ; there is a new paganism, which 
 wraps itself in Tyrian purple, preaches sensuous enjoyment, and 
 gives not a thought to anything heyond ; there are visionaries who 
 talk of humanity, hut whose ideas, when translated from the vague 
 phraseology in which they are clothed into plain language, mean 
 only that humanity is to take the place of God, and every man is 
 to do as he likes ; and, lastly, there are designing demagogues who 
 inflame the minds of multitudes with wild declarations of the rights 
 of man ; who incite the people to seize power, through the flatter- 
 ing doctrine that it belongs to them, in order that they may in 
 turn seize it and show the world such corruption and such tyr- 
 anny as only a democracy can produce." 
 
 It was seldom that the Marquis was led to speak in such a 
 strain or at such length, and the only person not surprised was 
 Mrs. Falconer. Irene, who had listened eagerly, looked invol- 
 untarily at Waldegrave for his reply, and as he met the light that 
 shone in her eyes a light of warm approval he found himself 
 suddenly and unaccountably envying the Marquis. 
 
 "I agree with you almost entirely," he said, "though you are 
 so uncomplimentary in your designation of my method of govern- 
 ment. The removal of the spiritual curb, both with regard to 
 rulers and people, must certainly be acknowledged by any thinking 
 man to have been a great misfortune. But we have to face things 
 as they are not as they might have been ; and the severity that 
 averts revolution is better than the temporizing weakness that 
 leads to it." 
 
 " Who should know that better than a Frenchman? " said the 
 Marquis. 
 
 When the ladies were presently alone in the drawing-room, 
 Lady Dorchester said to Mrs. Falconer: "How well M. de CM- 
 teaumesnil spoke, and how well he looked while speaking! I 
 never saw him so animated or so much in earnest before. In- 
 deed, I did not think he could be. He always seemed to me 
 entirely persifleur" 
 
 "I did him that injustice, too," said Mrs. Falconer with a 
 slight smile, " until well, until my eyes were opened by one who 
 knows him well."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 265 
 
 "It is a pity he does not enter public life as far as it is pos- 
 sible for a Legitimist to do so in France," Lady Dorchester 
 went on. " He might at least make a brilliant reputation. Can 
 you not rouse his ambition ? " 
 
 "I doubt if it needs rousing," answered Mrs. Falconer, with 
 self-possession. " Mr. Stanhope says that the secret of his appar- 
 ent indifference lies in the fact that he has a great deal of ambi- 
 tion and no field for its exercise." 
 
 " Mr. Stanhope ! " repeated Lady Dorchester, diverted to a new 
 train of thought. " That is your clever friend who writes social 
 studies full of delicate satire. What an oversight it was on my 
 part not to have had him here this evening! " 
 
 " Your party is very well balanced as it is," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 And to herself she said that she was for once glad of Stanhope's 
 absence. It was within the bounds of possibility that she might 
 have felt some constraint had he been present, his keen glance 
 upon the Marquis and herself; for her intentions were still an 
 enigma which she was not able to solve. 
 
 A few minutes later the gentlemen appeared, and soon after 
 Lady Dorchester crossed the room over to Irene, who was smiling 
 into the broad, good-humored countenance of Colonel Bevis and 
 listening to an account of a fox-hunt on the Campagna. " I am 
 sure you would like it," he was saying in conclusion ; "you look 
 just the sort of girl to ride well and to enjoy riding." 
 
 " Do I ? " she said, with a soft laugh. " But I don't ride at all 
 I have never had the opportunity though I am sure I should 
 like it very much. I think that to gallop over the Campagna 
 which is so wild, so free would be delightful! " 
 
 " Suppose you try it " the Colonel was beginning, when Lady 
 Dorchester interposed : 
 
 " Miss Lescar does something much better than ride, Henry. 
 She sings like an angel or, rather, like a prima donna, for we 
 don't know much about angels and she is going to sing for us 
 now ; are you not, my dear ? " 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it," answered Irene. 
 
 She rose at once and went to the piano, but Colonel Bevis, 
 who accompanied her, said confidentially as he opened the instru- 
 ment : 
 
 12
 
 266 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Singing is very well, and I've no doubt you sing like a thrush 
 which to my mind is better than a prima donna but riding 
 would be good for you ; and, if you feel inclined to try it, we can 
 get up some riding-parties, no doubt. Mrs. Falconer rides, I 
 know, and my wife is very fond of it." 
 
 "It would be charming, if you think I could ride without les- 
 sons," said Ir&ne. 
 
 " Oh, I could teach you all that is essential very soon, and I 
 am sure M. le Marquis would take a hand in conducting your ed- 
 ucation. He is a crack rider, though he is a Frenchman. I have 
 seen him in two or three steeple-chases." 
 
 "It will not do to count on his kindness," said Irene; "but 
 you are very good, and I am going to sing something specially for 
 you. "What do you like best? " 
 
 " "Well, a hunting-song, if you know any." 
 
 She smiled, and struck the ringing chords of a Tyrolean hunt- 
 ing-song, judging that it would please him. It not only pleased 
 him, but it electrified the whole company, for it was astonishing 
 how deep and rich and powerful her voice sounded, with what 
 spirit she sang, and how they seemed to hear the hunters coin- 
 ing in with their spoils, to see the wild glens, the green forests, 
 the far, fair mountain heights. 
 
 " Wunderschon / " said Count Waldegrave when she finished 
 and without a moment's hesitation he walked across the floor 
 to the piano. 
 
 "I am glad to hear that you will sing a German song, Miss 
 Lescar," he said ; and Irene, turning quickly at the sound of his 
 voice, was forced to own to herself that it was a pleasant smile 
 which shone down on her. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she replied in a more natural tone than he had 
 heard from her before, " I sing many German songs. They are 
 very fine, many of them : no one can deny that." 
 
 "I am afraid that you would fain deny it if you could," he 
 said, smiling again. " Yon are evidently a good hater." 
 
 " I can't imagine Miss Lescar hating anything," said Colonel 
 Bevis, regarding her with frank admiration, "unless it very par- 
 ticularly deserved to be anathema and then I fancy she would 
 temper justice largely with mercy."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 267 
 
 "I should not," said Miss Lescar, decidedly. "Do not credit 
 me with any such virtue. Like Count Waldegrave, I believe in 
 an iron hand, and summary justice, for ill-doers. We agree on 
 that point, at least." 
 
 She looked at Waldegrave as she uttered the last words, and 
 what was it that he read in the brilliant glance a gleam of defi- 
 ance? It conveyed that idea to his mind, and puzzled him as he 
 had been puzzled from the first by this girl so gracious and gentle 
 to others, so repellent to him. 
 
 " But I do not believe in an iron hand for all ill-doers," he 
 said; " only for dangerous revolutionaries, to prevent the spread 
 of mischief; to protect as M. de Chateaumesuil put it the ig- 
 norant from their sophistries." 
 
 " A very good thing to attempt, but you can't do it, you know. 
 The more ignorant people are, the more determined they are to 
 be deluded," said Colonel Bevis. 
 
 " We must not drift into another discussion of political prob- 
 lems," said Waldegrave, " for Miss Lescar is here to sing." 
 
 " Yes, I must sing," said Irene. 
 
 She turned back to the key-board and after a moment's 
 thought began the " Lascia cKw pianga" 1 " 1 of Handel. Its noble 
 breadth of harmony suited her voice, which seemed made to ex- 
 press all noble things. There were no displays of vocalization to 
 arrest attention, but a flood of glorious melody that seemed to 
 bear her listeners on its tide in rapt attention. 
 
 When she finished, and the applause more enthusiastic than 
 drawing-room applause, generally had subsided, Waldegrave 
 said : 
 
 " May I beg you to sing a song now for me? I heard you sing 
 ' Che faro sema Euridice ' the other night, and I have desired to 
 hear it again ever since." 
 
 She hesitated averse to acceding to his request, and averse 
 also to singing that particular song. It was so associated to her 
 now with their first meeting in front of the Greek marble of the 
 Villa Albani that she would not have sung it willingly for any 
 one. He saw the hesitation, and said, quickly : 
 
 "Do not let me urge anything that is disagreeable to you. 
 If you do not wish to sing it "
 
 2G8 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Oh," she said, feeling that some explanation was necessary, 
 " it is so sad ! And I realize the sadness more since I saw the 
 bas-relief of the Villa Albani. Irrevocable parting was never 
 expressed more clearly than it is there." 
 
 " But there are sadder things in life than irrevocable parting," 
 he said. 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " for much that is tender and fine may 
 go hand in hand with that, and sweetness as well as bitterness 
 may remain. Of course there are worse many worse things in 
 life; but nevertheless such parting has in it the sadness of death." 
 
 Then, perhaps because it was easier to sing than to continue 
 talking, she began the song for which he asked. It has already 
 been said that her voice acquired an exquisite pathos in its strains. 
 One seemed following Orpheus into the gloomy realm whither 
 he had gone to seek his beloved ; to hear the passion of his voice 
 and the heart-piercing entreaty of the cry that startled even that 
 lower world : 
 
 " Euridice, Euridice, Dio rispondi ! " 
 
 Irene had never sung better, and her voice thrilled the inmost 
 consciousness of those who heard her. " It seems to reach the 
 very center of one's heart," whispered Lady Dorchester to Mrs. 
 Falconer. " I have never heard any other which could compare 
 to it in that sympathetic quality." 
 
 Then the Marquis went to the piano and made his petition. 
 "Would Mademoiselle Lescar sing for him Mignon's song? 
 
 " You must surely ask for that because you know how much 
 I like it," she said, looking at him with a smile. " I always fancy 
 myself in Mignon's place longing, yearning for Italy." 
 
 The next moment she was singing " Know'st thou the land? " 
 And as "Waldegrave listened it seemed to him that he heard the 
 beating of her heart in every cadence. He was afraid to ask 
 himself what it was that he felt stirring at his heart what flood- 
 gate those magic tones might be opening. But he was as sure then 
 as afterward that whoever else might sing this song for him, he 
 should always hear in it the sound of Irene's voice a voice which 
 spoke not only of the real Italy, but of some ideal land of thought 
 and feeling where only the " beloved one " might enter and dwell.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 269 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE day after Lady Dorchester's dinner, Stanhope and Erne 
 dropped in to luncheon at Mrs. Falconer's. Her house was the 
 pleasantest possible for this kind of unpremeditated visiting, and 
 Stanhope had quite fallen back into the position of intimacy 
 which he occupied in Paris, though he had resolved against doing 
 so before coming to Rome. Such a resolution might have been 
 kept more easily, however, if Irene had not made a member of 
 the household. But having this interest, this responsibility in 
 common with Mrs. Falconer, how was it possible to withdraw 
 from an association which had led to her participation in it ? He 
 felt that it was not possible. " After all, there will be time 
 enough to step back when she becomes Madame la Marquise," he 
 now said to himself. " Why should a man anticipate evil by a 
 single day ? " 
 
 He did not. The Roman porter soon knew him as well as the 
 Paris concierge had done, and Antonio welcomed him with the 
 most gracious benignity. But Erne did not share these friendly 
 sentiments. There was a vague jealousy mingled with his reluct- 
 ance to yield the position of ami de la maison, and it was with a 
 sense of decided vexation that on this day he found Stanhope 
 already established when he entered the drawing-room. 
 
 Luncheon, however, was as agreeable as usual, for Mrs. Fal- 
 coner had infinite tact in harmonizing difficult elements, and there 
 was excellent assistance in Stanhope's unconsciousness and good 
 spirits. The occurrences of the evening before were touched 
 upon, and Mrs. Falconer spoke of the riding-parties which Colo- 
 nel Be vis had lost no time in proposing to her. 
 
 " I have only waited for the spring in order to begin riding," 
 she said. " But about Irene of course it is for you to decide, 
 Mr. Stanhope." 
 
 "Is it?" said Stanhope, looking at Irene. "I am afraid I 
 make a very poor guardian : it never occurs to me to assert my 
 rights of authority. But I see no reason why she should not 
 ride. It will be of benefit to her. She is too pale." 
 
 " It is what I proposed long ago ; but no one would listen to 
 me," said Erne, rather injuredly.
 
 270 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " I listened to you," said his cousin. " I told you that 
 later in the season we would ride. It is later in the season 
 now." 
 
 "And I told you that I did not know how to ride which is 
 as true now as it was then," said Irene. 
 
 "It does not seem to weigh with you now as it did then," he 
 ohserved in a quick tone of reproach that tone which it appears 
 impossible for a man in love to avoid (however little right he may 
 have to use it) when he sees, or thinks he sees, others preferred 
 to him. 
 
 "No," she answered, quietly; "because things are different 
 now. You have heard Mr. Stanhope consent to my riding, and 
 Colonel Bevis has kindly promised to teach me the essentials of 
 horsemanship." 
 
 "I might have done that, if you would have allowed me," 
 said Erne, still reproachful. "But I hope that Colonel Bevis, 
 whoever he may be, is not to monopolize you that, at least, I 
 may be permitted to join you sometimes ? " 
 
 " My dear Lionel, you will be always welcome," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. " Indeed, I have set my heart on making some excursions 
 just with yourself and Mr. Stanhope that is, if you would like 
 it ? " she added, turning to Stanhope. 
 
 He met her eyes with a smile in his own. "You know," he 
 said, " that 1 am entirely at your service." 
 
 " That is not the point," she replied, coloring and speaking 
 with slight impatience. " I asked if you would like to go? " 
 
 " There is nothing I should like better," he answered then, 
 with promptitude and evident sincerity. " I fancied that went 
 without saying." 
 
 Meanwhile Erne had glanced at Irene with a flash of pleasure 
 lighting up his face. 
 
 " I shall enjoy that," he said. " I abhor a mob of people, but 
 & parti carre is perfect. It will be like our visit to Versailles. 
 Ah, shall I ever forget that day ! " 
 
 "I am sure that I never shall," said Irene. 
 
 " I have a picture of you in my mind, as you stood on the 
 bridge of the Petit Trianon," the young man went on. " At this 
 moment I can see the water flowing below, the shade arching
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 271 
 
 above, and hear your voice as you sang ' Ton souvenir est toujours 
 Id' 1 I have never heard you sing that since." 
 
 " I will sing it for you whenever you like," she said, smiling. 
 
 They rose from the table soon after this, and returned to the 
 salon, where Irene walked to one of the open windows, followed 
 by Erne. As soon as she showed herself, half a dozen tame 
 pigeons came fluttering to the balcony. " Please get me some 
 crumbs for them ring for Antonio," she said, looking back over 
 her shoulder at her companion. When the crumbs were brought, 
 she stepped outside and stood, her slender figure outlined against 
 the deep-blue sky, with the snowy doves trooping round her feet. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, stand still and let me sketch that scene ! " 
 exclaimed Erne, from the shadow of the window-curtains. "I 
 have just been talking of one picture of you and here is another 
 as perfect! Have yon any drawing-materials? A bit of charcoal 
 and a board will do." 
 
 " You can carry it in your mind as you have carried the other," 
 said she, scattering all her crumbs in one lavish shower, and step- 
 ping back into the room. Then she looked at him with unexpected 
 severity. "You certainly possess the feeling of an artist," she 
 said. " Do you mean to play with it all your life? " 
 
 " I don't know," he replied. " We have talked of it before, 
 and I have told you what I believe that I have feeling, not 
 power." 
 
 "You mean that you have not diligence," she said. "You 
 don't like drudgery ; but you know one must drudge, if one ever 
 means to do anything in art. You have the true artistic percep- 
 tion, but you will not work." 
 
 "You are hard on me," he said, smiling. "I have been work- 
 ing lately. It was my only resource. All our pleasant excursions 
 have been ended, all our agreeable intercourse broken up so I 
 have been trying to console, or at least to distract myself by mod- 
 eling in clay. I came this morning to ask if you and, of course, 
 Mrs. Falconer will pay a visit to my studio ? I should like you 
 to see one thing which I have just finished." 
 
 " I shall be very glad to go, and I am sure Mrs. Falconer will 
 be also. Why don't you ask her ? " 
 
 Thus encouraged, he crossed the floor, and made his request.
 
 272 HEAET OF STEEL. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer agreed at once. "It will be a pleasant occupation 
 for this afternoon," she said. "I presume you mean to ask Mr. 
 Stanhope?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I shall he happy if Mr. Stanhope will come," replied 
 Erne. 
 
 His tone was rather indifferent, but Stanhope only smiled. 
 "Fortunately, I am not thin-skinned," he said to Mrs. Falconer, 
 as the young man went back to Irne, "and I have nothing else 
 to do." Looking out of the window, he added, "When the visit 
 to the studio has been paid, can we not go somewhere else to 
 some villa or ruin?" 
 
 " Certainly we can," she answered. " You have only to select 
 the villa or ruin. Meanwhile, I shall order the carriage." 
 
 The carriage was ordered, and the ladies retired to make some 
 changes of toilet, leaving Stanhope and Erne alone together. Since 
 there was on Stanhope's side at least good-humored tolerance, it 
 was he who spoke first : 
 
 " I have never heard where your studio is." 
 
 "It is in the Eipetta," said Erne. "I should have preferred 
 the Babuino or the Margutta, but there were no studios to be had 
 there especially for the limited space of time for which I wanted 
 one. But, though the Eipetta is not a popular street, I like it 
 especially since I am near the quay, and have a fine outlook over 
 the fields beyond the Tiber." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Stanhope. " Is there not a pleasant walk in those 
 fields behind the Castle San Angelo ? " 
 
 "Of course there is, and one can, if one likes, re-enter the 
 city by the Porta Angelica under the shadow of the Vatican." 
 
 " That, then, is where we will go," said Stanhope, with de- 
 cision, " if the ladies do not object." 
 
 "I imagine there is not much danger of their objecting to 
 anything that you propose," said Erne, somewhat sarcastically. 
 
 " To become a guide and philosopher, as well as friend, is one 
 of the melancholy privileges of advancing years," replied Stan- 
 hope, smiling, as he might have smiled at the petulance of a spoiled 
 child. 
 
 A few minutes later, Mrs. Falconer returned, and was soon 
 followed by Irene, when the party set out.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 273 
 
 They found Erne's studio, as might have been expected, very 
 little of a studio in so far as that term applies to a place of work. 
 An easel was there, and a good many canvases, but on these were 
 only a few hasty sketches or studies of color. The young sybarite 
 had, however, surrounded himself with as many rare and beautiful 
 things as if he intended to become one of the most industrious of 
 painters. Gorgeous Eastern stuffs, rare old hangings of faded 
 tapestry, pieces of armor, bits of mediaeval carving, made a pictur- 
 esque melange of artistic properties. 
 
 " Why, Lionel, you must have ransacked the Ghetto ! " said 
 Mrs. Falconer, looking round. " How very mean of you to have 
 kept all these delightful bargains to yourself! I would have paid 
 almost any price for some of these things." 
 
 " They were not much of bargains if you mean by that term 
 things that one gets for less than their value," said Erne, laughing. 
 " The old Hebrew rascals from whom I bought most of them, 
 made me pay dearly for my inexperience." 
 
 " You must have spent a fortune," said Mrs. Falconer. " The 
 things are worth a good deal, and, of course, you paid three prices. 
 Confess, now, that you have brought us here simply to prove your 
 taste as a collector ! " 
 
 " No, indeed. It has been an amusement and occupation to 
 select these things at intervals during the winter ; but I should 
 never have thought of asking you to come to see them. What I 
 want to show you is of more value at least to me." 
 
 He walked across the room, drew aside a curtain of Algerian 
 stuff, and showed a bas-relief executed in clay a life-size head 
 which made them all start, and Mrs. Falconer exclaim, 
 " Irene ! " 
 
 It was indeed Ir&ne. Being in high relief, the likeness came 
 out perfectly. Every exquisite line of the delicate yet noble face 
 was reproduced, and on the shapely head waa lightly laid so 
 lightly that it seemed as if it might be lifted off by a touch a 
 crown of lotus-leaves. The beautiful neck and shoulders were 
 finished by a few folds of classic drapery, while the oval, con- 
 cave surface on which the whole was modeled was surrounded 
 by a wreath of the same graceful foliage. 
 
 " I am afraid you think that I have taken a great liberty," said
 
 274 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the young man, turning to Irene, who stood silent, with a height- 
 ened color. " But do you remember the day we were at the 
 Villa Albani? The resemblance of your face to the Antinous 
 gave me the idea, and I could not banish it. So I got some clay, 
 shut myself up, and here is the result." 
 
 "Ah, the Antinous!" said Stanhope. "That accounts for 
 the crown of lotus-leaves." 
 
 "Not altogether," replied Erne. "Association suggested it, 
 but the more I thought, the more appropriate it seemed. Genius 
 should always be crowned with the divine tree of the gods." 
 
 "Pray do not make me absurd, Mr. Erne!" said Irene, 
 quickly. 
 
 " There was also another reason which made it appropriate," 
 said he, turning to her and speaking in a lower tone. " The 
 leaves of the lotus closely resemble those of the nettle a plant, 
 as you may be aware, which no man dare touch." 
 
 " That is very revengeful of you," said she, betrayed into a 
 smile ; "but I would much rather be considered a nettle on suf- 
 ficient grounds than a genius on insufficient ones." 
 
 " And is it possible that you had no sitting? " asked Stanhope. 
 " It is an astonishingly good likeness." 
 
 " Miss Lescar can tell whether or not I have had a sitting," 
 answered Erne. " I had only my recollection of her face, and a 
 photograph which I stole." 
 
 " You have succeeded admirably," said Mrs. Falconer. " I 
 really think you had better abandon paint and devote yourself to 
 clay." 
 
 " That is decidedly my opinion," said Stanhope. 
 
 " And mine," said Irene, at whom Erne looked. " I wish 
 you had chosen another subject but this proves your power." 
 
 " I could not have proved it with another subject," said he, in 
 a low tone. 
 
 It was true. Love, the great inspirer, had stood by him as he 
 worked, and the result was due to that inspiration more than to 
 anything else. Talent and technical skill had been the servants 
 to do its bidding but only the servants. Nevertheless, the 
 achievement was so striking that Stanhope felt he had not before 
 done justice to the young man's ability.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 275 
 
 "I have thought him a mere dilettante, dabbling with art; 
 but this shows that he is an artist," he said aside to Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. 
 
 " It is amazingly good," she answered. " I am really as much 
 surprised as you are. It is not only an admirable likeness of 
 Irene, but it is fine ideal work. I should like to see it in marble. 
 "Was it not Thorwaldsen who said that ' clay is birth, plaster death, 
 and marble the resurrection ' ? You will have it executed in mar- 
 ble, will you not, Lionel? " 
 
 " If Miss Lescar does not object," replied Erne, with an ap- 
 pealing glance at Ir&ue. 
 
 " Nonsense! " said Mrs. Falconer. ""Why should she object? 
 If I had such a face, I should be glad to have it wrought into 
 something enduring, something almost imperishable. Do you 
 remember ' Praxiteles to Phryne ' ? 
 
 1 Phryne, thy human lips shall pale, 
 
 Thy rounded limbs decay, 
 Nor love nor prayers can aught avail 
 To bid thy beauty stay ; 
 
 ' But there thy smile for centuries 
 
 On marble lips shall live 
 For Art can grant what Love denies, 
 And fix the fugitive.' " 
 
 Erne's eyes gave a quick flash. " I have thought of that 
 poem often since I have been at work," he said. " Again and 
 again I have repeated to myself : 
 
 ' And there upon that silent face 
 
 Shall unborn ages see 
 Perennial youth, perennial grace, 
 And sealed serenity.' 
 
 Of course, it came with a better grace from Praxiteles than from 
 me," he added with a laugh, "but still I did feel some exultation 
 in perpetuating what so well deserves perpetuation." 
 
 "Put it into marble for me," said Mrs. Falconer. " That will 
 settle Irene's scruples, if she has any. I only wish it were a bust. 
 This has a mortuary suggestion."
 
 276 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "I can not see how or why," said Erne; "but the Antinous 
 is accountable for its being rilievo." 
 
 They talked of it a little longer, then some time was spent in 
 examining the "bric-d-brac which filled the studio, and finally they 
 went out on a narrow balcony which commanded a view of the 
 open fields beyond the Tiber, and of the massive walls of the 
 Castle of San Angelo, which seemed almost to overshadow them. 
 
 " Do you know," said Stanhope to Mrs. Falconer, " that those 
 fields are the Prata Quinctia of Cincinnatus the site of his farm, 
 the spot where the messengers from Eome found him leaning on 
 his spade and requested him to put on his toga to receive a mes- 
 sage from the senate ? If you care to wander over a spot of such 
 historic interest, we can cross the ferry here and walk round to 
 the Porta Angelica." 
 
 "I should like it very much," she answered. "But what 
 shall be done with the carriage? " 
 
 " Send it to St. Peter's to meet you." 
 
 She turned to Irene. "Do you hear, my dear? Do you 
 think you would like it ? " 
 
 " Oh, very much," replied Irene, eagerly. "I have been long- 
 ing to cross the river and get out into the country this lovely day 
 even before I knew about the farm of Cincinnatus." 
 
 " Very well," said Mrs. Falconer, " we will go." 
 
 It was, indeed, a lovely day, and after they had crossed the 
 ferry from the picturesque Quay of the Eipetta, and found them- 
 selves in what remains of the " Quinctian meadows," all the 
 sweetness of spring spring in Italy seemed to meet them. The 
 limpid sky, the soft fitful wind that came from remote distance 
 from the far blue hills and over the wide grassy sweep of the 
 Campagna, laden with faint odors of the blossoms it had kissed 
 in passing the fresh turf which their feet pressed, the flowers 
 that starred the fields sloping down to the river, the ineffable 
 charm of the atmosphere, all touched them as Nature can touch 
 those only who are alive to her influence. 
 
 Erne smiled at the expression of enjoyment on Irene's face. 
 " How happy you look ! " he said. " And how little it takes to 
 make you happy ! " 
 
 " Do you call this little? " she asked with a glance of surprise.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 277 
 
 "What could one have more? The only trouble is that there is 
 too much one can not take it all in. But it is divine ! " 
 
 She paused, and, resting her arms on a low stone wall, looked 
 across the fields to " the noble river that rolls by the towers of 
 Kome," to the great mediaeval walls of San Angelo, to the mighty 
 dome which rose beyond, then let her gaze wander over the 
 wide scene of rolling plain and villa-crested hills, of the gray -green 
 of distant olive-woods, of far, snowy peaks, of almond-trees blos- 
 soming near at hand. 
 
 " I am glad that it is I who have brought you here," said Erne. 
 " At least, if you had not gone to my studio, we should not have 
 thought of this walk." 
 
 " So I owe you two pleasures," she said, tnrning her eyes on 
 him with a smile but a smile which even in its sweetness seemed 
 to set him at a distance. " The visit to the studio was a great 
 pleasure. I am sure now that you will be a famous sculptor some 
 day." 
 
 " If I ever am, it will be owing entirely to yon," he said "to 
 those words of yours in the Villa Albani and to my desire to 
 copy your face in a manner worthy of it. Do you know I have 
 failed entirely with paint? I could never make any likeness of 
 you which satisfied me at all. But the clay lent itself to my fin- 
 gers. I worked at fever-heat as I saw your features coming out 
 under my touch. It was like creation. I felt myself almost a 
 Pygmalion," he ended, with a slight laugh. 
 
 She took no notice of the allusion, but, looking away to where 
 the golden sunlight was falling on the cypresses of Monte Mario, 
 said : 
 
 " I am glad if I have had anything to do with it, but I think 
 you must be exaggerating in order to give me pleasure to make 
 me feel of importance." She glanced at him again with another 
 swift, sweet smile. " One likes to feel one's self of importance, 
 you know." 
 
 " Then, Heaven knows, you ought to be satisfied with your 
 importance to me ! " said the young man, impulsively. " You fill 
 my life it seems to me that the thought of you is like the breath 
 I draw. I know that I could sooner stop breathing than cease to 
 think of you to love you ! "
 
 278 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 It was done and a moment's dreadful pause followed. 
 Whether he felt most relief at having at last uttered what had so 
 long burned for utterance, or most apprehension of what Irene 
 would reply, Erne did not know. It was an awful second ; but 
 he was not prepared for her turning silently and commencing to 
 walk on again rapidly. 
 
 " Have I offended you ? " he asked one long step carrying him 
 to her side. " 1 am sorry but at least you might give me one 
 word." 
 
 " What word can I give that you will care to hear ? " she 
 asked, coldly. "I think you have forgotten yourself; that 
 is all." 
 
 " Forgotten myself ! " he repeated. " What is there to forget ? 
 I have loved you from the first hour we met if you have not 
 known it, you are unlike all other women and you have so en- 
 tered into my life, so colored, so swayed it, so revealed not only 
 yourself but myself to me, that I can not go back even in memory 
 to the time when I did not love you, any more than I can imagine 
 that I shall ever cease to love you." 
 
 " Oh, but you will ! " said the girl, stopping abruptly and turn- 
 ing her face toward him, her eyes full of an expression which he 
 had never seen in them before an expression of one who sud- 
 denly wakes to startling knowledge. It had been one thing to 
 put this love aside before it had been offered, to think lightly, even 
 contemptuously, of it but it was quite another thing to see a 
 man's passionate heart unveiled, to hear his tones such tones as 
 had never before fallen on her ear, or stirred the calm of her 
 spirit. The first words of love spoken to a woman are always an 
 era and sometimes an awakening in her life. But to Irene they 
 were a revelation. She had read, heard, sung of it this strange, 
 strong passion of humanity but she had not realized it until she 
 met Erne's eyes and heard in his voice the echo of that which 
 filled his heart. 
 
 " Oh, but you will ! " she repeated, in a tone of earnest asser- 
 tion. " It would be terrible if I, who care nothing for you, should 
 be forced to make you unhappy." 
 
 " I who care nothing for you ! " It was impossible for words 
 to be more positive than these, as Erne felt, with his heart sink-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 279 
 
 ing even lower than it had sunk before. He had known it oh, 
 yes, he had certainly known it ; but to tell one's self a thing of 
 this kind, and to have it told by the lips of the person beloved, 
 are different matters. 
 
 "It is true, then," he said, despairingly; "you care nothing 
 for me ! " 
 
 "Not in the way that you care for me," she answered. "I 
 thought you would have known it." 
 
 "I did know it I have always felt it," he said. "Instinct 
 told me from the first that you would never think of me. But 
 there have been hours I was mad, I suppose when I have said 
 to myself, ' She is a woman therefore to be won ! ' " 
 
 " But that is what I am not to be neither by you nor any 
 one else," she said, haughtily. " Understand that once for all. I 
 have heard I have read," she went on, a little wistfully, " that a 
 hopeless passion must die. The best kindness I can do you, there- 
 fore, is to make you believe that yours is absolutely hopeless. 
 You have been my good friend, and I am grateful to you but 
 you can never, while we two live upon the earth, be to me any- 
 thing more." 
 
 If there had been aoy vanity in the young man to be morti- 
 fied, this speech would certainly have stung it in a salutary man- 
 ner. But on this point there was none. His love was deep 
 enough to be humble, and these words in their pitiless de- 
 cision only seemed to him like the death-knell of all hope. He 
 had fancied that he indulged none but he knew his mistake 
 now. 
 
 " And so," he said, huskily, "it is over. I never really looked 
 for anything else ; and yet my God ! can it be that I am to go on 
 living all my life without you ? " 
 
 The passionate, painful vehemence of his tone touched the 
 girl to the heart. She made a step nearer to him, her eyes shin- 
 ing like stars in the pale, beautiful face. 
 
 " Is it not a common lot ? " she said, her voice full of infinite 
 gentleness. " See ! have not I to live all my life, whether it be 
 long or short, without the creature I love best ? What am / com- 
 pared to my mother ? And I have lost her for this world ut- 
 terly, hopelessly."
 
 280 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 It was a singular form of consolation ; but Erne never looked 
 for Irene to say the things which other people said, nor would 
 she have been Irene if she had. He could not point out to her 
 that his eager passion was different in its demands from the love 
 of which she spoke. He could only say : 
 
 " Death is different. One must resign one's self to that. But 
 to know that you are living, and that some day you will you 
 mus t love some other man " 
 
 A change came over her face that almost startled him. It 
 seemed in an instant to harden, to grow cold. 
 
 " Did I not tell you a moment ago that such a thing is not 
 possible ? " she demanded. " Do you imagine that I am talking 
 idly ; that I have not reason for what I say ? " 
 
 " I imagine that you do not know yourself," he answered ; 
 " that your heart is not yet awakened, and that you have no idea 
 of the power of love." 
 
 " It is you who are talking of something which you do not 
 understand," she replied, coldly. And then she turned once more 
 and walked on. 
 
 He walked silently by her side, moving as in a dream through 
 the scene that had been so full of charm a little while before. 
 Now all the sunny beauty of the day was wholly eclipsed for him. 
 He put out his hand mechanically and broke off a branch of al- 
 mond-blossom that hung over a wall. To the end of his life he 
 will abhor the sight of an almond-tree in bloom. Far ahead Mrs. 
 Falconer and Stanhope were loitering along. It was like, yet 
 how unlike, that day at Versailles of which he had spoken ! 
 
 " Ton souvenir est tovjours Id," he said at last, abruptly. "It 
 seemed a prophecy. " 
 
 Irene looked at him. Her anger had been short-lived, for her 
 eyes now expressed only compassionate regret. " I hope that it 
 will not prove a prophecy," she said. " Why should you remem- 
 ber me ? I have played a very small part in your life." 
 
 " I do not seem to have known any other life," he answered. 
 " "What did I tell you a moment ago ? You have been a revelation 
 to me. I have amused myself with sentiment and even passion 
 many times, but I never before knew what it was to have my 
 days and nights filled with the memory of one face, the sound of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 281 
 
 one voice. "When I am with you, I feel that I could accomplish 
 anything. Every faculty that I have is quickened, every power 
 intensified. You are a perpetual inspiration. "With you I could 
 rise to any height. But without you " he snapped the almond- 
 branch in two and flung it away " I shall be like that," he said, 
 " broken and useless." 
 
 " You exaggerate," she said, earnestly. " I hope and trust 
 that you exaggerate, for it would be terrible and " she hesitated, 
 she had almost said "contemptible" "unworthy, if a man's 
 achievement in life depended on whether or not a woman loved 
 him." 
 
 "You are not like any other woman," he said. "Have you 
 not learned that ? "When one has known you, all other women 
 have lost their charm. And so " he looked at the walls of the 
 Leonine City, which they were approaching " I am willing to bo 
 anything you will permit, rather than lose you utterly. Except 
 in moments of madness, I have never dreamed of winning you ; 
 so I shall try to be content if you will let me remain your friend 
 see you, be with you, as I have been." 
 
 " I should be sorry if there were any change in our inter- 
 course," she answered ; " but if I promise to forget all this, you 
 must promise on your part to forget also never to speak of it 
 again." 
 
 He shook his head. " I can not promise the first," he said. 
 " It would be as easy to forget that I exist. But not to speak of it 
 again well, that is in my power. I promise that, if you in- 
 sist." 
 
 " I do insist," she srad, quickly. "And oh I I do beg you, try 
 to forget! Believe me when I tell you that you are wasting 
 every thought which you give me." 
 
 The passionate earnestness of her manner carried conviction 
 with it. Erne was no more disposed, than most men would have 
 been in his place, to believe that a young and beautiful woman 
 meant what she said when she talked of love as a possibility hav- 
 ing no place in her life. But he could not doubt Irene. What- 
 ever revelation the future might bring to her, she meant all that 
 she said now. 
 
 There was no opportunity for further conversation, since
 
 282 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer and Stanhope were waiting for them, lingering 
 outside the Porta Angelica. A few words were exchanged, and, 
 when they entered the city, the division of the party whether 
 by accident or design was not clearly apparent altered. Erne 
 walked on with his cousin ; Stanhope fell back with Irene. 
 
 She thought that she had never before appreciated what a 
 pleasant companion he was. He made no demand upon her atten- 
 tion, for his keen glance detected that something had moved her 
 and it was not difficult to imagine what it had been. " The 
 young fool has spoken," he thought; but he went on talking 
 easily, and in a manner which needed no reply, about the pictur- 
 esque antiquity of the Borgo, through which they were passing, 
 beneath the walls of the Vatican garden. 
 
 " Do you know," he said, " the meaning of the name ' Borgo ' ? 
 There was a Saxon settlement here called Burgus Saxonum, 
 founded by a certain Ina, King of Wessex in the eighth century. 
 When Pope Leo IV inclosed this part of the city, it obtained the 
 name of Borgo, from the Burgus Saxonum and holds it to this 
 day." 
 
 "What a place it is this city of Rome! " said Irene. "Is 
 there a foot of its earth which has not some far-reaching his- 
 tory ? " 
 
 Stanhope smiled ; and, not unwilling to divert her mind, began 
 it was something very unusual with him to quote : 
 
 " ' Rome ! what a scroll of history thine has been ! 
 In the first days thy sword republican 
 Ruled the whole world for many an age's span : 
 
 Then of thy peoples thou wert crowned queen, 
 
 Till in thy streets the bearded Goth was seen ; 
 And now upon thy walls the breezes fan 
 (Ah, city crowned by God, discrowned by man !) 
 
 The hated flag of red and white and green. 
 
 When was thy glory ? When in search for power 
 Thine eagles flew to greet the double sun, 
 And all the nations trembled at thy rod ? 
 
 Nay, but thy glory tarried for this hour, 
 When pilgrims kneel before the Holy One, 
 The prisoned shepherd of the Church of God.' "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 233 
 
 "How beautiful! " said the girl, glancing up at him with eyes 
 into which quick tears had sprung. " And how true ! Who wrote 
 it, Mr. Stanhope ? I wish I could think that you did." 
 
 " I never wrote, or attempted to write, a sonnet in my life," 
 said Stanhope, " though I should not have been sorry to write 
 that. I am not a Catholic, but I hope I have some idea of justice, 
 and there has never been a more unjust outrage since the world 
 began, than the occupation of Borne by the Italian Government." 
 
 "I am glad that you think so," said Ire"ne, "for many people 
 Anglo-Saxon people, I mean seem blinded to the plain justice 
 of the matter by an inheritance of prejudice. But it does not 
 trouble Catholics. We feel, indeed, all the insults and indignities 
 and dangers to which the Holy Father is subjected, but we know, 
 with absolute certainty, what will be the result. If we had not 
 faith, history would tell us. Do you remember the Ion-mot of M. 
 Thiers, when the Empress Eugenie asked him what he thought 
 of the Roman question ? ' I confess that I am not a good Catho- 
 lic,' he said, ' but I am a papist because I have read history and 
 have learned there that all who have eaten of the Pope hate died 
 of it." 1 For me," she went on, " I have only to look from the 
 Janiculum to the Palatine, to feel that, when Csesar matches him- 
 self against God, the end whether delayed for a longer or a 
 shorter time is certain. No scepter is strong enough to break 
 the staff of Peter." 
 
 " You remind me of a passage from the great French preacher 
 Lacordaire, which M. de Chateaumesnil is fond of quoting," said 
 Stanhope. " You may probably know it. He describes how 
 Caesar, having failed to overthrow the papacy by force, comes and 
 offers to share his purple with it ; and the answer is : ' Keep thy 
 purple, O Csesar! To-morrow we will bury thee in it, and chant 
 over thee the Alleluia and the De Profundw, which never change.' 
 Ages hence, when the kingdom of Italy is a forgotten name in 
 history, I doubt not the Pope will still be reigning in this Eternal 
 City." 
 
 As he uttered the last words, they turned into the great Piazza 
 of St. Peter's, with its wide-spreading colonnades and springing 
 fountains, and the tall obelisk, like a tongue of flame, bearing the 
 cross upon its summit. A few carriages were scattered over its
 
 284 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 wide expanse, a few figures could be seen, like ants, ascending or 
 descending the steps of the church. But these served to increase 
 rather than diminish the sense of majestic space. As they ad- 
 vanced up this noble court, with the soft murmur of the flashing 
 fountains growing more distinct, and from the sweeping colon- 
 nades colossal statues of saints and apostles looking down, it was 
 impossible not to feel that this was a worthy approach to the 
 grandest temple ever raised by man for the worship of God. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 To stand on the steps of St. Peter's for the first time; to give 
 a glance back over the magnificent court up which one has ap- 
 proached, then to cross the wide portico, to enter the vestibule, 
 where fitly stand statues of Constantino and Charlemagne he- 
 roic figures of the Church's great political benefactors then, with 
 a beating heart, to lift the heavy leathern curtain and gaze on the 
 glory of the interior this is a moment in life never to be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Yet it seemed to IrSne as if , in a measure, this moment was 
 renewed for her whenever she put that curtain aside, and the 
 splendor of the great church burst on her sightr-for it is no more 
 possible to carry St. Peter's in the memory than to realize its 
 vastness when within it. Each time the resplendent beauty, 
 which is like nothing else earthly, dazzled her afresh. Light, 
 majesty of space, richness of color, magnificence of decoration sur- 
 passing description these are the things that strike the eye as 
 soon as the threshold is passed. And with every step the scene 
 of awe and wonder deepens. The floor spreads away, a sea of 
 glistening marble. Massive pillars, rich with sculptured entabla- 
 ture, support the lofty arches which disclose the broad aisles be- 
 yond the nave and the chapels opening into them, with their 
 sumptuous altars and solemn tombs and pictures of imperishable 
 mosaic. Far under the center of the soaring dome, a circle of 
 gleaming stars marks the heart of the great temple. Those are 
 the never-dying lamps before the tomb of the Apostles. And 
 farther still, beyond the baldacchino of bronze which, though high
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 285 
 
 as the roof of the Farnese Palace, looks a mere ordinary canopy 
 in this stupendous edifice, the eye discerns a distant glory of 
 golden light as if heaven itself were opening into this, its earthly 
 portal. " L 1 architecture de St. Pierre est une musique fixee" said 
 Madame de Stael, and its effect may indeed be likened to a burst 
 of triumphant harmony. But it is more than that ft is an em- 
 bodiment of the Christian idea. It is architecture inspired by 
 faith and adapted to the needs of Catholic worship. Taking the 
 ancient basilica for a basis, the noble arches, which open such 
 glorious vistas to the eye, have been substituted for the long rows 
 of pillars, in order to reveal more fully the chapels and side-altars 
 which in some of the older churches notably in Santa Maria 
 Maggiore are partially concealed and lose their dignity. The 
 dome, which rises like the canopy of heaven and suggests as 
 little the thought of space or limitation, is a sublime and exult- 
 ing expression of faith in the immortality that lies beyond the 
 tomb ; while the diffusion of light, the glory of art, the rich- 
 ness of wealth brought to adorn the sanctuary of God, together 
 with the exquisite proportion, the wonderful blending of parts 
 into one perfect whole, all conspire to make it a symbol of the 
 faith which has produced it. 
 
 Walking up the grand nave, with its beautiful pavement of 
 colored marble inlaid from designs of Giacomo della Porta and 
 Bernini, with its vaulted roof coppered and gilded, our party ad- 
 vanced under the dome, round which, in letters of purple-blue 
 mosaic, runs the inscription, "Tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram 
 
 esdificabo ecclesiam meam, et tibi dabo claves regni crelorum " 
 
 and beneath which lies the body of the apostle to whom those 
 words were spoken. Here burn the golden lamps, like faithful 
 hearts, here stands the altar where only the living successor of 
 Peter can officiate, and here cluster the most glorious memories 
 as well as the most sacred traditions of faith. This is the site of 
 the oratory founded by Anacletus, Bishop of Rome, who was or- 
 dained by St. Peter himself, to mark the spot where countless 
 Christian martyrs suffered in the circus of Nero, and where St. 
 Peter was buried after his crucifixion on the Janiculum. Here 
 Constantine, at the request of Pope Sylvester, began the erection 
 of a basilica, laboring, we are told, with his own hands at the
 
 286 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 work, and carrying away twelve loads of earth in honor of the 
 twelve apostles. It was at this time that the body of the great 
 apostle was exhumed and reinterred in a sumptuous shrine. To 
 the basilica thus founded came pilgrims from the (then) uttermost 
 parts of the earth. There came the proud Emperors of the East, 
 TheodosiuS and Valentinian; there came Cedwalla, fair-haired 
 King of the West-Saxons, praying for baptism ; there came Ina of 
 Wessex and Carloman of France, and many another royal pil- 
 grim, until the greatest of all, Charlemagne, knelt to be crowned 
 by Christ's vicar. And there, in the last year of the reign of Leo 
 IV, Ethelwolf, King of the Anglo - Saxons, came also to be 
 crowned, having with him his son of six years old, a child who 
 carried from the apostle's tomb grace to make him blessed in his 
 land as Alfred the Great of England. 
 
 And it is a significant fact that in all the storms which have 
 shaken Koine, in all the invasions to which it has been subjected, 
 this ancient and sacred basilica has never suffered. The Goth, 
 the Saracen, fierce mediaeval baron, and ruthless emperor, have 
 done their worst on the Eternal City, but their footsteps trembled 
 and paused at the shrine of him to whom was given the awful 
 keys. Hence the peace that broods here has in it something 
 majestic as well as serene something which elevates as well as 
 soothes the spirit. One feels the steadfastness of the everlasting 
 rock. What does one more storm matter to the Church founded 
 upon it? "Et super hanc petram aedificabo ecclesiam meain." 
 Centuries have paseed, unnumbered storms of human passion 
 have raged, since that word was spoken, but lo! the old, old 
 Church stands firm. " The gates of hell " have not prevailed, 
 though they have had even as to-day many a brief, seeming 
 triumph. 
 
 Irene sank on her knees by the balustrade where the deep- 
 diving stair leads down to the crypt below, and where swing tho 
 shining lamps. The others, after lingering for a little, passed on 
 and left her Erne had parted with them on the portico, having 
 excused himself from entering. She was glad to be alone. When 
 she entered, her heart had been heavy with the realization of the 
 pain she had been forced to inflict, with a penetrating sense of the 
 unavoidable sorrow and difficulty of life, with the memory of an
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 287 
 
 old yet ever new wound, and of her own lasting bereavement. 
 But, as she knelt, her heart grew still, her inind serene. It is diffi- 
 cult for any words to express the influence of the spot. Peace 
 seemed to wrap her like a veil. Now and then a light foot-fall 
 went by ; some one came, knelt, rose, and passed away. She rose 
 also, after a while, stood for an instant gazing up into the vast, 
 solemn space above, from which the great figures of the evangel- 
 ists look down, then turned and moved away to the left, aware 
 that Mrs. Falconer would know where to seek her. 
 
 And half an hour later, as twilight shadows began to gather in 
 the mighty transepts and under the lofty arches, Mrs. Falconer 
 touched her shoulder as she knelt on the pavement before the 
 chapel of the Blessed Sacrament. 
 
 She rose at once and they went again into the nave. The 
 lamps around the shrine were more like stars than ever in the 
 dusk the vast church stretched away until lost in obscurity. It 
 seemed a solemn world of ineffable repose. Presently from the 
 shadow of one of the immense pillars, near the tomb of the 
 Stuart kings, a figure emerged and joined them. It was the Mar- 
 quis de Chateaumesnil. He had spent the afternoon in the church, 
 had been down in the crypt and up in the dome. " I feel as if I 
 had been exploring a city," he said, with a smile. 
 
 " I have never been on the roof," said Mrs. Falconer. " Some 
 day I must really go ; but I dislike such exertion." 
 
 "You will be well repaid," he said. "The view from the top 
 of the dome is fine beyond description. One can liken it only to 
 the pinnacle of a mountain ; but what mountain has Borne at its 
 feet, ancient Latium around it, the Mediterranean on one hand, 
 and the Apennines on the other ! " 
 
 He lifted the leathern curtain of the door as he spoke, and a 
 flood of light met them. They crossed the vestibule, and what a 
 sight dazzled their eyes as they paused in the portico at the head 
 of the great steps ! The sun had gone down, and a reflection from 
 the splendor of its setting was flung upon the sky in front of them. 
 A number of floating clouds had caught the glory, and formed 
 resplendent golden masses upon the deep-blue ether. Against 
 this stood out in bold relief the battlements of the Castle of San 
 Angelo, while the superb angel poised upon its summit looked as
 
 288 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 if he had at that instant descended from the open heaven as if 
 its radiance shone still on his outspread wings and flashed along 
 his gleaming sword. 
 
 " Oh, what a picture ! " cried Irene, with such an expression 
 of voice that the Marquis turned to look at her. She was gazing 
 at the scene with shining eyes and parted lips herself a picture 
 in her delight. 
 
 " It is not often, even from the steps of St. Peter's, that one 
 can see anything like it," said Stanhope. " One might fancy all 
 the heavenly host upon those clouds." 
 
 " The one of the heavenly host whom we see on San Angelo 
 is glorious enough," said Mrs. Falconer. " What a figure of maj- 
 esty ! " 
 
 " What a scene altogether ! " said Stanhope, letting his gaze 
 wander over the piazza at their feet, with its iris-tinted fountains 
 and sweeping colonnades. " A fit close for a delightful afternoon." 
 
 " What have you been doing to make the afternoon specially 
 delightful ? " asked the Marquis. 
 
 " Nothing of importance," replied Mrs. Falconer. " We went 
 to Lionel Erne's studio to see a riliew of Irene's face which he 
 has just finished a very good hit of work ; then we walked from 
 the Quay of the Kipetta to the Porta Angelica, and then we wan- 
 dered into St. Peter's. Voild tout! " 
 
 "But the 'tout" 1 comprised several very pleasant hours for 
 me, 1 ' said Stanhope ; " therefore I insist upon heing permitted to 
 consider the afternoon delightful." 
 
 "I am sure Mademoiselle Lescar, with her interest in every- 
 thing natural and historical, has found it so," said the Marquis, 
 turning to Irene. 
 
 He was surprised at the change that had come over her face 
 since he looked at it hefore. The radiance had faded out of her 
 eyes : there was an expression of pain in them. She was thinking 
 how far from delightful the afternoon had proved to one person 
 how little his spirit was likely to be attuned to this sunset 
 glory ! 
 
 "Yes," she said, "it has been very pleasant; but this is glori- 
 ous ! I think I should like to live on the roof of St. Peter's," she 
 added, glancing at the Marquis with a smile.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 289 
 
 " I wish you had been there with me," he said. " Yon would 
 have enjoyed it greatly, I am sure. And you know there are 
 many people living on the roof." 
 
 "Yes; how strange, is it not? Fancy having one's dwelling 
 on the roof of St. Peter's ! But probably the people who live there 
 never think of it as strange at all." 
 
 " The force of habit accustoms people to anything," said Stan- 
 hope. " There are very few things that long retain the sense of 
 strangeness, and certainly a residence on the roof of St. Peter's 
 need not be one of them." 
 
 " I am sure it is large enough for a village," said Mrs. Falcon- 
 er. " Some day we will go and see it, but now we must go home. 
 M. le Marquis, there is a vacant seat in my carriage if you care to 
 take it." 
 
 " Many thanks, madame," answered the Marquis, " but I have 
 a voiture waiting. I suppose I can not tempt you, mon cher, to 
 share it with me ? " he added, turning to Stanhope. 
 
 "Yes, you can," answered Stanhope, "since our destination 
 is probably the same, and I should only take Mrs. Falconer out 
 of her way." 
 
 "Very little," said Mrs. Falconer. But she made no demur; 
 so the ladies were put into their carriage and drove off alone. 
 
 Both were silent for some time. It was not until they were 
 crossing the bridge of San Angelo and, glancing back, caught the 
 last gleam of ligbt on the angel's sword, that Mrs. Falconer said, 
 " And so you have consigned poor Lionel to despair ! " 
 
 "Did he tell you? " asked Irene, looking up with wistful eyes. 
 " I never thought it would be so hard ! I feel as sad and guilty as 
 if I had willfully injured him and so sorry for him ! " 
 
 " Yes, I am sorry for him, too," said Mrs Falconer. " He is 
 very unhappy, poor fellow ! But, as for your feeling guilty, that 
 is nonsense. Never did a man rush on his fate with more cer- 
 tainty of what it would be. If any idiocy in love could surprise 
 me, I should be surprised by his conduct for he knew that you 
 cared nothing for him." 
 
 " He said so ; but I fancy he must have had some hope, or he 
 could not have been so disappointed," replied Ir6ne. " It is dread- 
 ful to see a man look heart-broken and he did." 
 13
 
 290 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " No doubt he did," said Mrs. Falconer, smiling; "but bis 
 beart will mend I have never known a broken heart that did 
 not. The first man one refuses especially if he be very much in 
 love and very much in earnest tries one's feelings deeply. But 
 one grows accustomed to it after a while, and learns that the 
 wound one inflicts is only skin-deep, and frequently to the vanity 
 rather than the heart." 
 
 "I should be sorry to wound even vanity," said Irne. 
 
 " I am sure you would, though I do not mean to imply any- 
 thing of the kind about poor Lionel. His passion is genuine, and 
 his unhappiness, I doubt not, very keen. But he will get over it." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Irene, " I suppose one gets over everything in 
 time. But that does not make it less hard to feel that he is suf- 
 fering now through me" 
 
 " Why, are you to blame for his suffering? " 
 
 " Certainly not ; but the consciousness of being blameless can 
 not make one feel less the sadness of giving pain." 
 
 " Ah, child," said the elder woman, " I wish I could harden 
 your heart. Not enough to make you cruel ; only enough to 
 make you indifferent. There is nothing so much to be desired 
 so safe, so pleasant as indifference 1 " 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Falconer, have you gained it yourself? " asked the 
 girl, smiling. 
 
 " Not entirely. I wish I had. But I tremble for what lies be- 
 fore you in life, with such a heart. Sooner or later it will cause 
 you misery." 
 
 " I think not," said Irdne, as they drew up under the portone. 
 " But if so, I shall only follow in my mother's footsteps." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "I THINK," said M. de Chateaumesnil, settling his shoulders 
 comfortably against the back of the small open carriage in which 
 Stanhope and himself drove out of the piazza of St. Peter's, " that 
 Mademoiselle Lescar is the most interesting person I have ever
 
 HEART OF SIEEL. 291 
 
 Stanhope gave him a quick look. " Indeed ! " he said. " How- 
 has she proved so interesting ? " 
 
 " It is impossible for her to prove anything else," said the 
 Marquis. " Even when she says nothing, the expressions of her 
 face are a study, they are so full of thought and feeling," 
 
 " Humph ! " said Stanhope. 
 
 Besides this significant sound he uttered nothing more for a 
 minute. He would, indeed, have found it difficult to express his 
 feelings chief among which was a sense of irritation that Mrs. 
 Falconer should he, as it were, overshadowed by this girl she had 
 so kindly taken under her charge. Such overshadowing would 
 have been trying enough in any case, but with the man who was 
 her avowed suitor, and probably her future husband some recol- 
 lection of Lady Falconer's warning came to Stanhope and deep- 
 ened his annoyance. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Lescar is certainly not an ordinary person," 
 he said, after a moment ; " but whether the expressions of her 
 face are sufficiently interesting to repay your study of them, I do 
 not know." 
 
 Now, he is a master of social dissimulation who, being annoyed, 
 can keep all sign of it out of his voice. Stanhope, on the present 
 occasion at least, was not able to do so. His tone betrayed his 
 feeling, and made the Marquis glance at him with keen scrutiny. 
 
 " I did not mean to imply that I had made a study of Made- 
 moiselle Lescar's expressions of face," he said. "They would 
 strike any one." Then, after a short pause, and with a slight 
 smile : " It is as I suspected, mon ami. She is more to you than 
 you are willing to admit. Nothing proves love like jealousy." 
 
 It was a very natural inference ; but, being so wide of the 
 mark, it only served to increase Stanhope's irritation. 
 
 " Why is it," he demanded, "that nothing I can say has any 
 effect to disabuse you of this absurd hypothesis which you have 
 adopted ? IrSne is to me simply a girl in whom I feel deep inter- 
 est, but for whom I have no shade of the kind of feeling you im- 
 agine. If I have betrayed any jealousy," he went on, forced by 
 his irritation into candor, " it was for Mrs. Falconer. Do you 
 think that, as her friend, I can hear a man who holds the position 
 toward' her that you do, declaring the most enthusiastic admira-
 
 292 , HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 tion for another woman, and not feel that he ia not worthy of 
 this woman, unless she is in every sense supreme to him ? " 
 
 For an instant the Marquis was too much amazed to reply. 
 Never before had he seen the usually imperturbable Stanhope so 
 moved. It was a revelation to him, as well as an astonishment. 
 A suspicion, which he had once or twice entertained before, but 
 which had of late faded away, returned now with renewed force. 
 But he made no allusion to this when he answered, quietly : 
 
 " You have forgotten one or two things. The first is that only 
 the unreason of a woman ever requires that even a man in love 
 shall cease to find attraction in other women ; the second is that 
 I have never professed myself in love with Mrs. Falconer. Ac- 
 cording to our French view, that sentiment is not necessary to 
 the happiness of marriage, as you are aware. I have the highest 
 admiration, the deepest respect for her ; but that passion, which 
 quickens the pulse and mists the brain, I have not. Nevertheless, 
 I am ready to offer her my honor and my name. In that sense 
 she is supreme to me ; but does it prevent my having eyes to see 
 the exceeding beauty, the spirituelle charm of Mademoiselle 
 Lescar? " 
 
 It was now Stanhope's turn to be silent. What was there to 
 reply to this ? Had he not known it before ? No doubt he had : 
 but there is a great difference between knowing and realizing a 
 thing. It is doubtful if he had before thoroughly realized the 
 calmness of the sentiment with which the Marquis approached 
 Mrs. Falconer. In fact, it had seemed impossible to him that any 
 man who knew her well could regard her with indifference, and 
 he had taken for granted in M. de Ohateaumesnil's suit a degree 
 of warmth which it now seemed did not exist. 
 
 "If I had known," he said at last in a tone of suppressed 
 indignation, " that it was so entirely a mariage de convenance 
 which you wished to make, I should never have interested myself 
 to speak to Mrs. Falconer in your behalf." 
 
 The Marquis started a little. "You have done so?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes," answered Stanhope. u After you gave me your con- 
 fidence, it seemed only a matter of friendly justice that I should 
 remove from Mrs. Falconer's mind certain prejudices against you
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 293 
 
 which I knew to exist there, and which I thought I could re- 
 move. It was simply clearing the way for you I said nothing 
 which could be interpreted as pleading your cause ; nor did she 
 give any hint or sign how she would receive your suit. But I 
 am sorry now that I did so much. It is offering an indignity to 
 such a woman to regard her simply as a figure on which her for- 
 tune is hung." 
 
 There was a deep note of anger in his voice as he uttered the 
 last words ; but the Marquis turned to him with a light in his 
 eyes which was by no means a reflection of it. 
 
 " You are a friend indeed, man cJier Stanhope 1 " he said, 
 warmly. " What a friend you have proved to me ! "What a friend 
 to Mrs. Falconer you are proving yourself now ! You are right : 
 it would be an indignity to such a woman to regard her simply 
 as the figure on which her fortune is hung. But, believe me, I 
 do not so regard her. "Were her fortune trebled, it would not 
 tempt me if she were not the woman she is. But you know my 
 position you know that I could not marry a goddess if she were 
 without fortune." 
 
 " And Irene Lescar has nothing which deserves the name," 
 said Stanhope, looking at him keenly. 
 
 The other shrugged his shoulders. " Ma foi, I have never, 
 for an instant, thought of her in such a connection. She seems 
 to me like some rare, beautiful creature, quite 
 
 ' . . . too bright and good 
 For human nature's daily food.' 
 
 But, whatever her attraction, whatever her rank of which I 
 know nothing or her wealth, if she possessed any, I am none 
 the less bound in honor the more since you have spoken to 
 offer myself to Mrs. Falconer. I am here for that purpose, and I 
 shall not delay it longer." 
 
 He spoke with decision; and, as the carriage at that moment 
 drew up before their hotel, Stanhope was spared the necessity of 
 reply. If he did not feel very cheerful over the prospect of Mrs. 
 Falconer's probable acceptance of the Marquis especially since 
 he had heard such an exposition of the sentiments of the latter 
 he had at least a sense of relief in feeling that, in one way or an-
 
 294: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 other, the matter would soon be settled. He had been conscious 
 of a weight of responsibility since he had taken upon himself the 
 duty of speaking to Mrs. Falconer, and of uneasiness in watching 
 the laggard wooing of her suitor, which pride pride for Tier 
 had prevented his quickening by a word. He said to himself now 
 that he should probably soon be able to offer his congratulations 
 to the future Marquise, and find some excuse for leaving Home ; 
 since the place in her salon, of which he had once spoken to Ma- 
 dame Lescar, began to appear less attractive to him. 
 
 The Marquis did not fail to prove himself a man of his word. 
 The next morning his card was brought to Mrs. Falconer, and, as 
 she read the name, she felt an instant conviction of what was be- 
 fore her, coupled with a dismaying sense that even yet her mind 
 was not made up. " I suppose if one thought for ever, one never 
 could make up one's mind in a case of this kind," she said to her- 
 self, u unless unless one were in love, and that is not to be hoped 
 for." Then she turned to Antonio, who stood respectfully wait- 
 ing. " Show M. le Marquis in," she said. 
 
 A moment later the Marquis was shown into the inner salon 
 where she sat. Even more than the larger drawing-room, it was 
 filled with the evidences of her individual taste and the beauty 
 which only great wealth can command not magnificence, but an 
 exquisite luxury, the costliness of which was veiled by delicate 
 refinement. Flowers in bountiful profusion filled the jardinieres 
 and the balcony ; a deep sky of sapphire looked in between folds 
 of sweeping silken drapery. The graceful figure that rose from a 
 writing-table seemed made for such surroundings. 
 
 There was not a trace of consciousness in her manner as she 
 received him, yet her heart was beating as it had not done before 
 since her girlhood. "Was she really again on the brink of the 
 awful experiment of matrimony ? She did not ask herself what 
 force it was that was driving her on: she only felt that she was 
 driven, yet that she was reluctant. Never had her liberty seemed 
 to her more alluring than at this moment when she was almost 
 prepared to resign it. 
 
 "I hope that you have not suffered me to disturb you," said 
 the Marquis, with a glance at her writing materials and the open 
 page of an evidently unfinished letter.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 295 
 
 " Oh, no," she answered. " My epistolary labors are rarely so 
 great that I can not very well hear to be disturbed in them. I 
 have been writing to Lady Falconer ; and, by leaving my letter 
 open, I can add that I have seen you, that you are very well, and 
 any other item of information you are good enough to furnish me." 
 
 If M. de Chateaumesnil had been in the Castle of Truth, he 
 would have replied that he hoped before his visit ended to be able 
 to furnish an item of information which would certainly prove 
 very agreeable to Lady Falconer ; but since such frankness did 
 not commend itself to his approval, he replied instead that his 
 cousin, hearing of his presence in Eome, would argue everything 
 that was good for him. 
 
 "I am not sure of that," said Mrs. Falconer, smiling. "One 
 does not always argue well of a Parisian out of Paris. Do you 
 not begin to think of the Boulevards and the Champs-Ely s6ea 
 now that spring has come? " 
 
 " Ton are thinking of the average Parisian," he answered, " for 
 whom the Boulevards and the Champs-Elysees make the world. 
 But I am not a Parisian of that type if, indeed, I am a Parisian 
 at all. I am a Frenchman, rather, for whom Paris has now little 
 attraction." 
 
 " But, whatever her misfortunes, Paris always has attrac- 
 tions," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " To foreigners and to some classes of her own people yes. 
 But not to those who know her well enough to see the great 
 social deterioration steadily going on, to be pained by her decad- 
 ence in every respect. Even her prosperity at the present time 
 is hollow a bubble that will end in revolution." 
 
 " And revolution may end in bringing about what you desire 
 the restoration of stable government." 
 
 "It may; but, as I think I have said to you before, I am not 
 sanguine. It is difficult to see how any government is possible 
 with a people educated as the present race of Frenchmen have 
 been, in infidel doctrine and social revolt." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer never liked the Marquis so well as when he was 
 stirred to serious feeling and serious speech. At such moments 
 she recognized what his friends meant when they spoke of his 
 abilities and deplored his forced inaction.
 
 296 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "If you are right," she said, "it is sad to think what dark 
 and evil days are before France. But it seems to me," she added, 
 with a quick impulse, " that, however dark and evil they may be, 
 no man who sees as clearly and speaks as forcibly as you should 
 fail to do all that lies in him to avert them. Forgive me " the 
 color came into her face "for saying this. It has been in my 
 mind a long time." 
 
 " Nay," he answered, " you must let me thank you for saying 
 it." Then, after a brief pause, he added : " If you will help me, 
 much may be possible to me. Mine has been at best but a useless 
 existence. If you will give it meaning by giving me yourself, I 
 may accomplish something yet." 
 
 It was a happy inspiration which prompted him to choose that 
 form of speech. No other could have touched the woman to 
 whom he spoke so deeply. Indeed, it is doubtful if any other 
 would have touched her at all. Certainly no offer of devotion 
 could have done so. But to be asked for the help she knew that 
 she could give, in herself as well as in her fortune to know that 
 it rested with her to give meaning and usefulness to a life that 
 even yet might be brilliant in the eyes of the world she would 
 not have been the generous, impulsive woman she was, if this 
 had not moved her. 
 
 But her self-possession did not fail. She met his gaze gravely ; 
 only the soft flush which had risen into her cheek remained there 
 and added to her loveliness. 
 
 " I am flattered," she said, " that you think me capable of so 
 much. Frankly, I am sure that your life contains many possibili- 
 ties of honor and usefulness; but pardon me if I am frank 
 also in this how can I tell that my influence would give the 
 definiteness, heretofore lacking, to your aims and purposes ? " 
 
 "You may be sure that it would," he answered, seriously, for 
 he understood her. " Will you permit me to indulge a little ego- 
 tism ? It is well that you should know thoroughly what manner 
 of man is asking you to share his life. You have often charged 
 me with being ennuye. It is true enough. How can I be other- 
 wise, when the days come and go, and I have nothing with which 
 to fill them save a routine of motiveless pleasures? My wander- 
 ings were pleasant while they lasted; but I am not a savant to
 
 HEART OF STEEL, 297 
 
 bury myself in antiquities, nor a philosophical student of human 
 nature like our friend Stanhope. I grew weary : I said to my- 
 self, ' I will go home and take up life again.' I went, and what 
 was there to take up ? The pleasures I had exhausted were empty 
 and tasteless to me. The country I had left was moving faster 
 and faster toward socialistic revolution. I did not find it easy to 
 look on at such a drama. Day by day it grew more hard to me. 
 Old fires of ambition kindled, while above all was bitter pain for 
 France pain for her degradation, pain in the realization of my 
 own powerlessness to avert the evils that so darkly threatened 
 her! Yow know how the fashion of one's life is to ignore all 
 deep emotion. One smile?, one shrugs one's shoulders, one utters 
 a biting epigram, perhaps ; but under this one may feel mafoi, 
 what may not one feel ! " 
 
 These words, with their concentrated yet controlled force, 
 would have been no surprise to Stanhope, who knew accurately 
 enough the real temper of the man, the overmastering bent 
 of his mind and desire of his spirit. But they were a revela- 
 tion to Mrs. Falconer and knowledge warmed to keenest 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Believe me," she said, " I feel for you and for France. 
 You miss a field for power, a career for ambition ; but she misses 
 one who would serve her with the heart of a patriot and the 
 mind of a statesman." 
 
 With a gesture as graceful as it was respectful, he took her 
 hand and kissed it. 
 
 "You would be," he said, "an inspiration to a patriot, a help 
 to a statesman. And you are right every man who can, should 
 make himself a breakwater against the tide of revolution. Will 
 you. then, take this poor France for your country, and help me to 
 work for her ; will you, if the turn of the tide should ever come, 
 give value to any distinction I may gain by sharing it 1 " 
 
 There was no lack of earnest feeling in his tone and, there- 
 fore, it stirred Mrs. Falconer. It was not the distinction offered, 
 so much as the help demanded, which appealed to her. Stanhope 
 was right enough within certain limits, she was an ambitious 
 woman ; but, even more than that, she was a woman who longed 
 to give freely of the abundance which was hers. Not mere ma-
 
 298 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 terial abundance only, but that of sympathy, of intellect, of heart. 
 She was wise enough to distrust her own impulses, however, and, 
 after a short hesitation, she answered gravely yet graciously : 
 
 " This is not a matter which should be decided without deeper 
 thought than I have given it. The happiness of both our lives is 
 at stake and I realize it clearly. I confess that I am touched I 
 -confess, also, that I am tempted by much that you have said. 
 But I must have time to consider." 
 
 " I beg that you will take as much time as you desire," said the 
 Marquis. " Only believe that, if your decision is what I hope, I 
 shall feel the full value of all that you grant and remember that 
 I am in your hands." 
 
 He rose as he spoke, with the evident intention of taking 
 leave ; but at that moment the portiere was lifted, and a radiant 
 presence stood in the doorway. It was Irene, with her hands full 
 of flowers. 
 
 "See, dear Mrs. Falconer, how lovely! " she cried. "I am so 
 fond of wild-flowers ! Ah, M. le Marquis, Ion jour are you fond 
 of wild-flowers, too ? " 
 
 "I am fond of everything beautiful, mademoiselle," answered 
 the Marquis, smiling. " May I ask where you found those ? " 
 
 " Outside the Porta San Giovanni. Mrs. Vance kindly went 
 with me to Santa Maria Maggiore this morning. Then, after hear- 
 ing a mass, we went to Santa Croce by the beautiful Yia di Santa 
 Croce. Do you know it? along vista, with such glorious dis- 
 tances the Campagna,the aqueducts, the mountains, seen through 
 foliage and between the castellated towers of the old walls! It 
 was like a poem, which deepened in beauty the nearer we ap- 
 proached the basilica. Then I begged to go outside the Porta, 
 and I gathered these flowers under the arches of the aque- 
 ducts after which we came back by St. John Lateran. And 
 there is nothing in Eome like the view from the front of the 
 Lateran! " 
 
 Mrs. Falconer smiled. " I think," she said, " that you change 
 your mind every day with regard to what is finest in Home." 
 
 "Oh, no!" said Irdne, quickly. "I admire each thing in a 
 different way, with a different feeling. But I have always thought 
 that the view from the Lateran is unequaled. Even if it had no
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 299 
 
 history, it would be glorious ; but when to the majestic picture 
 is added the thought of all its memories, I feel, when I am there, 
 as if I were listening to the noblest music ! " 
 
 It seemed" as if she had brought a strain of it with her. The 
 light in her eyes, the quick thrill in her voice what were they 
 but an echo of the great harmony to which she had been lis- 
 tening? She appeared suddenly to remember herself, however, 
 and, with a blush, moved away. 
 
 "My flowers will fade if I do not put them in water," she 
 said. " But " turning again to Mrs. Falconer " I had almost 
 forgotten that we met Colonel Bevis, and he is coming this 
 afternoon to arrange a riding-party for to-morrow. I told him 
 that it was quite impossible for me to go, since I know nothing of 
 riding ; but he insists that, with his instruction, I can. Do you 
 think I ought to venture ? " 
 
 " Perhaps M. de Chateaumesnil will tell us whether you ought 
 or not," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 "If Mademoiselle Lescar does not attempt to go too far, her 
 first lesson might be taken in a riding-party as well as in any other 
 way," replied the Marquis; "and," he added, looking at the girl 
 with a smile, " I beg to offer my services as instructor, if at any 
 time Colonel Bevis should be otherwise engaged." 
 
 " You are very kind," she answered. " Colonel Bevis himself 
 proposed some such arrangement. He says that you are a ' crack 
 rider.' " 
 
 " Which is no light compliment from an Englishman to a 
 Frenchman," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 "He is probably aware that my education in horsemanship 
 was English, rather than French," replied the Marquis. " But I 
 shall say good-morning, madame, with the hope that I may be 
 permitted to join the riding-party to-morrow." 
 
 " It is Colonel Bevis's party, not mine," she answered, as she 
 gave him her hand ; " but no doubt he will include you in it."
 
 300 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE Marquis was included in the party, and some one else 
 whom Colonel Bevid consulted no one about inviting. This was 
 Count Waldegrave, whom he encountered after leaving Mrs. Fal- 
 coner and asked to join them, with a comfortable assurance that 
 such an addition could not fail to be agreeable to every one. He 
 would have been surprised if he could have looked into the minds 
 of three of the party and seen how far from agreeable it proved 
 to them these three being Mrs. Falconer, Stanhope, and Irene. 
 But conventionalities are admirable things to restrain the exhibi- 
 tion of awkward feeling, and no one would have imagined that 
 the party was not thoroughly harmonious in all its elements, as 
 they rode out of the Porta del Popolo en route for the villa of 
 Livia this having been decided upon as a good objective point 
 for the first excursion, which it was desired should be short. 
 
 " We must not take Miss Lescar too far on her first ride," said 
 Colonel Bevis ; and, although Irdne had protested against being 
 made a weight, his motion was unanimously seconded. " Our 
 next excursion shall be to Ostia or the hills," he said. 
 
 So, to the Villa Livia, seven miles beyond the walls of Rome, 
 the party turned their horses' heads. In setting out, Colonel 
 Bevis, according to his promise, constituted himself Irene's escort, 
 and the ride at first meant for her little besides a succession of brief 
 instructions. "Sit square in the saddle, Miss Lescar " "right 
 shoulder too far forward " " left rein too short " " keep your 
 hand low " u curve your wrist easily " " lean slightly forward 
 for the trot" "rise in your saddle" "so!" But riding, no 
 more than any other accomplishment, can be learned in an hour, 
 and like every other its first steps are difficult and fatiguing ; so it 
 was a pale and rather wearied face that Count "Waldegrave saw 
 when he presently fell back and joined the last pair of equestri- 
 ans. 
 
 " I am afraid you are tired, Miss Lescar," he said, with such 
 a tone of kindliness that Irene looked at him gratefully. She was 
 tired, and in her instinctive acknowledgment of the sympathy she 
 forgot who offered it.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 301 
 
 " It is harder work, learning to ride, than I imagined it would 
 be," she said. 
 
 " I am afraid I have fatigued you," said Colonel Bevis, full of 
 self-reproach at once. " It is fatiguing to be kept too long under 
 steady drill. Well, we will take things easily now at a walk, and 
 all you need do is to keep your shoulders square and your reins 
 properly adjusted." 
 
 " That means a good deal," said Irene, " since my reins appear 
 to have a remarkable faculty for adjusting themselves improperly, 
 and the worst of it is that I can not tell when my right or left rein 
 is shorter than the other." 
 
 " Your right rein needs attention now," said Waldegrave, smil- 
 ing a little. 
 
 Then, as she hesitated, he leaned over, and saying, " Allow me," 
 took the loose end and drew it an inch or two through her fin- 
 gers. It was a very simple act, and one which Colonel Bevis had 
 already several times performed ; but from Waldegrave it acquired 
 a new meaning. Though his hand did not touch hers, there was 
 something in the momentary closeness of contact which made the 
 girl flush. It seemed to bring more vividly to her consciousness 
 who and what the man was who offered this friendly, familiar at- 
 tention. 
 
 After this they walked their horses down to the Ponte Molle, 
 and the talk became something besides a monologue of instruction. 
 Colonel Bevis still had a vigilant eye for any departure from the 
 right position of body or the slightest laxity of either rein ; but 
 his admonitions were only interjections in the conversation. Their 
 way was now along the old classic road which leads from Kome 
 to Northern Italy, and the boundless expanse of the Campagna 
 spread around them as far as the eye could reach, crossed by the 
 varying lights and shadows of the fair spring day. Except at cer- 
 tain seasons of the year, there is no look of desolation about this 
 wonderful tract of country unless such a look is given by the 
 lack of habitations but a beauty peculiar to itself and almost in- 
 describable. Mount one of the turfy hillocks which abound, and see 
 what a picture is spread before the gaze a grassy sweep of lux- 
 uriant green, golden with the flower of the broom, bright with 
 " flame-born anemones " and glowing poppies, starred with myr-
 
 302 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 iads of daisies, buttercups, narcissi, and wild convolvuli. The 
 ground is broken by long, swelling ridges, which rise now and then 
 into those rocky cliffs that formed the natural strength of the cita- 
 dels and towns of ancient Latium. In the hollows wander streams 
 fringed by green osiers. Solitary mediaeval towers are scattered 
 here and there remnants, for the most part, of the feuds of the 
 Orsini and Colonna. Yonder a deserted castle occupies the site 
 of an old Etruscan stronghold ; there is a shepherd's hut, built of 
 reeds, such as Virgil describes. Afar, the great aqueducts, in 
 giant arches, lead the eye to the violet beauty of the mountains 
 which bound this strange, wild, glorious plain, where unnumbered 
 armies have marched, where battles have been fought of which 
 history has forgotten the very names, and where great cities have 
 risen, flourished for a time, then fallen so ntterly to decay that 
 not even one stone upon another remains to tell where they stood 
 in their strength and beauty alternately the friends and rivals of 
 mighty Koine. 
 
 "I am never on the Campagna," said Irene, " without thinking 
 of that striking phrase of Madame de Stael, ' Cette terre fatiguee 
 de gloire qui semble dedaigner de produire? I am glad that it can 
 not be cultivated. I should not like to see it other than it is." 
 
 " If it were cultivated, Rome would lose an impressive set- 
 ting," said Waldegrave. "Nothing could be more appropriate to 
 the Eternal City than this great plain with its ruins and tombs." 
 
 "I believe," said Colonel Bevis, " that we are in the neighbor- 
 hood of the place where the battle between Constantino and Max- 
 entius was fought." 
 
 " We are very near it," said "Waldegrave. " This earth be- 
 neath our feet heard the thunder of the legions. If we had time 
 to examine, we might find some of the red volcanic rock which 
 gave its name to the battle-field." * 
 
 " ' In hoc signo vinces,' " said Irene, glancing up at the sky, as 
 if expecting to see the fiery cross outlined there. " I should like 
 to have been one of the legions that day." 
 
 " You would have fought well," said Colonel Bevis, regarding 
 the clear, noble line of her profile, the quick radiance of her 
 look. " There is warlike stuff in you." 
 * Saxa Kubra.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 303 
 
 The radiance had not left her glance when she turued it on 
 him. "Why do you say that?" she asked. "Have I betrayed 
 any warlike taste ? " 
 
 " You betray it all the time," he answered. " Your eyes glow, 
 your color rises at the mere name of some old battle ; and, when 
 you sing a song that tells of bloodshed and fighting, your voice has 
 the ring of a trumpet. I'm sure that you would like to lead an 
 army." 
 
 " Perhaps I would," she said, smiling. " But it should be an 
 army inspired with some heroic purpose and ready for noble 
 deeds. Bloodshed and fighting, in themselves, are terrible but 
 for a noble end they become glorious. If it were not for war, we 
 should not know of what human nature is capable what it can 
 dare, endure, sacrifice." 
 
 Colonel Bevis nodded approvingly. " I am glad to hear you 
 talk so," he said. " One grows sick of the cant about the mil- 
 lennium of peace which is to dawn upon the world. War has its 
 horrors who knows them better than a soldier? but it has its 
 glories too; and, in my opinion, the world will have lost rather 
 than gained, when a man is not ready to drop the pursuit of 
 wealth, to leave home and wife and child, to take up arms for the 
 cause of his fatherland. For, ' it is appointed unto all men once 
 to die.' " 
 
 " ' And how should man die better 
 
 Than facing fearful odds, 
 For the ashes of his fathers 
 
 And the temples of his gods ? ' " 
 
 said Irene quickly, with the ring in her voice of which he had 
 spoken. 
 
 "If war had always a noble end," said Waldegrave, "it would 
 certainly be easy to face the death it might bring. But the end 
 is often unworthy in the extreme and the gloom of defeat has 
 overtaken many a righteous cause. You might not always be 
 able to twine laurels around the brows of your heroes," he added, 
 with a smile at Irene. 
 
 "They would bo none the less heroes to me," she replied. 
 " Indeed, they would be more heroic, more worthy of love and
 
 304: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 reverence, in defeat than in triumph. If there is anything I desire 
 it is to reach the soul of things not their mere outer shell of ap- 
 pearance. And I have a peculiar sympathy for the defeated and 
 unfortunate provided that their cause was just and their shield 
 stainless. Even in social life I do not care for people who are too 
 prosperous. They are always a little often greatly hardened. 
 The fineness of their sympathy is blunted. The world goes too 
 well with them, for them to hear the sorrowful heating of other 
 hearts, or to see a martyr in the victim of defeat and scorn." 
 
 She had gone on speaking, without knowing where she would 
 end; her voice had taken its deepest chord, her eyes were full of 
 luster. It did not occur to her at the moment that Waldegrave 
 might suppose that he was classed under the head of the too pros- 
 perous people. 
 
 "Those are very fine sentiments, my dear Miss Lescar," said 
 Colonel Bevis, " but a trifle unpractical. In this excellent world 
 of ours we take off our hats to success." 
 
 " I know that you do," she answered, with a touch of scorn. 
 "But I shall never make the world's standard mine. I do not 
 care to follow any triumphal chariot. I would rather stay with 
 those who have fallen on the battle-field and bind up their 
 wounds." 
 
 One of the two men who were looking at her pale, beautiful 
 face, her shining eyes, thought, with the quickness and intensity 
 of a leaping flame, that he would be glad to be wounded if her 
 hands would bind up his wounds. But there was no echo of this 
 thought in his voice when he spoke. 
 
 " You have just said that you desire to reach the soul of things 
 and do you not see that tho soul of heroism might as well be in 
 the triumphal chariot as in the dust of the battle-field ? It was 
 Constantine, not Maxentius, who conquered here." 
 
 "I remember," she said; "but this is my feeling the hero 
 in the chariot has enough in his success, in the praise and honor 
 of the world. I should like to bestow what is mine to give, on 
 one who needs it more." 
 
 " So we must be defeated in order to obtain your smiles," said 
 Colonel Bevis. " Yet I have never seen any one better fitted to 
 grace a triumphal chariot than yourself."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 305 
 
 Waldegrave agreed with the speaker yet felt a sense of irri- 
 tation at the personal character of the speech. He was pleased 
 that Irene did not answer it ; she only said, as she slowly stroked 
 the neck of her horse with a slender, gloved hand : 
 
 " I can sympathize with ambition ; but the success which the 
 world glorifies is often such a vulgar and ignoble thing that I have 
 little sympathy with that. But now " she looked at the Eng- 
 lishman with a smile " do you not think that I might trot a lit- 
 tle more ? I shall never learn if I do not try." 
 
 When they reached the villa of Livia they found that the rest 
 of the party had been there for some time. The Marquis came 
 forward quickly to dismount Irene before either of her attend- 
 ants could do so. Mrs. Bevis observed his movement, and turned 
 to Stanhope with a smile. " You are the only cavalier who does 
 not fly to the service of the beautiful Miss Lescar," she said. 
 
 " Miss Lescar is sufficiently attended," he answered ; but there 
 was a shade of gravity on his face as he glanced from the Marquis 
 to Waldegrave. 
 
 They explored the ruins, and descended into those lately ex- 
 cavated chambers which opened to the modern mind a wonderful 
 revelation of the beauty which surrounded ancient Roman life, 
 and the excellence of ancient Roman art. For here the frescoes 
 glow with surpassing freshness, in tints as brilliant as if laid on 
 yesterday such an exquisite trellis-work of fruits and flowers, 
 such delicate foliage of oleander, orange, and myrtle, with birds 
 of bright-hued plumage sporting among the branches, as fills the 
 mind with the most delightful visions. 
 
 " It is incarnate summer the summer of Italy," said Irene, as 
 she stood in the center of one of the chambers, holding up the 
 folds of her habit and gazing round. She looked at M. de Cha- 
 teaumesnil, who was near her. "It makes one think that the 
 Empress Livia must have been a very charming person," she said. 
 
 " She was charming enough to retain the affection of Augustus 
 to the last," he answered. " But it is not always a safe rule to 
 argue from the decoration of a house to the character of its pos- 
 sessor." 
 
 " Do you not think so ? It seems to me that few things are 
 more indicative of character. For instance, whoever chose this
 
 306 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 decoration must have loved nature must have felt all the sweet- 
 ness of its skies, of its trees, of its flowers and birds; and have 
 you ever known a person of bad or petty character who felt and 
 loved the influence of these things ? " 
 
 He smiled. "I am not sure," he said. " The answer to that 
 question would require consideration though in a broad sense I 
 am inclined to think that you are right. But the paintings of this 
 villa were probably done by order of the Emperor, and may be 
 read as a token of his great and tender love." 
 
 "That gives them added beauty," she said, looking round 
 again with soft, bright eagerness. "They ought to be imperish- 
 able like the love which has come down to us, a wafted sweet- 
 ness from that far-off time." 
 
 What was there in this girl's voice which seemed to impart 
 such deep and exquisite meaning to her simplest words ? The 
 Marquis was a man of the world, but he was also a man of refined 
 nature, and he felt, when listening to her, like one who looks into 
 an ideal world full of images as beautiful as those pictured on 
 the walls before them. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Falconer, finding herself alone in one of the 
 chambers with Stanhope, said to him, "What is the matter, that 
 you look so grave? " 
 
 " Am I looking grave ? " he asked. 
 
 "Not enough so to attract the attention of others," she an- 
 swered, " but I know your face. Is it about Irene ? " 
 
 "Yes." He paused then after a moment went on: "I do not 
 like this association with Count Waldegrave ; and still less do I 
 like his evident interest in her." 
 
 "But it is .natural," she said. "Who could fail to be inter- 
 ested in one so attractive ? " 
 
 He looked at her with sudden keenness. She was trifling 
 with the tassel of her riding-whip, and, if her words had any 
 deeper meaning than appeared, there was no sign of it in her 
 face. She met his gaze quietly, and added : 
 
 " We should not wonder if others are conscious of the charm 
 that both you and I have felt." 
 
 "Ah," he said, "but I fear a different kind of interest from 
 yours and mine ; and I perceive signs of it in Count Waldegravo
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 307 
 
 which make me think that the time has come when I must tell 
 him who she is." 
 
 " I am sorry. She will dislike it." 
 
 " That can not be helped. Their position toward each other 
 is a false one, so far as he is concerned. It is not right that he 
 should be kept in ignorance of the truth." 
 
 " Would it not be better for us to leave Rome ? I am willing 
 to do so." 
 
 He shook his head. " No. Who could guard against another 
 meeting elsewhere? I think that his interest is deeper than he is 
 himself aware, and that the sooner he is made acquainted with 
 the existence of the barrier between Irene and himself, the better." 
 
 "You do not think," she said, quickly, "that he would desire 
 to marry her? " 
 
 Stanhope shrugged his shoulders. "How cnn I tell? Who 
 can answer for the folly of a man in love ? and this man is in 
 love, though probably he does not know it." 
 
 " What a strange caprice of fate their meeting has been ! " said 
 Mrs. Falconer. " But pray wait a little pray do not be precipi- 
 tate! He may only admire her, as every one does and must." 
 
 Again he glanced at her. 
 
 " Do you know," he said, " it strikes me, as it often has struck 
 me before, how few women there are who in your position would 
 care to be to this girl what you have been and are ? " 
 
 "Why not? " she asked. " Ought I to be afraid of being over- 
 shadowed? But you see I am too certain of my own charm that 
 golden charm which is never eclipsed save by one more golden." 
 
 " Do you think that you are just to your friends when you 
 speak in that manner ? " he asked, in a low tone. 
 
 " It is not unjust to state a manifest fact," she answered, calm- 
 ly. " The consciousness that my wealth is my chief claim to con- 
 sideration does not make me cynical or bitter. I flatter myself 
 I am too much a woman of the world for that. I accept the fact 
 with composure and philosophy. I fancy that it is only very vain 
 people who resent being valued for what they possess rather than 
 for what they are. I used to be vain enough to believe that I had 
 something in myself apart from my wealth something which 
 might win for me affection and esteem. But I have learned other-
 
 308 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 wise, since even my friends think that I can do no better, expect 
 -no more, than to strike a bargain and exchange my wealth for 
 rank." 
 
 She spoke without the faintest excitement, the least trace of 
 bitterness ; but her very quietness cut Stanhope like a sword. He 
 had literally not a word to reply ; and, indeed, with the entrance 
 of the rest of the party a moment later, he lost the opportunity to 
 reply at all. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT is doubtful if Stanhope had ever in his life been more moved 
 than by Mrs. Falconer's words. They rang in his ears like the 
 voice of an accusing angel. If there had been an accent of re- 
 proach in them he might have defended himself better from the 
 self-reproach he felt; but her calm acceptance of what she called 
 " a manifest fact" that her friends held her fortune of more ac- 
 count than herself had a confounding effect upon him. She was 
 so reasonable that it had never occurred to him that she would 
 misinterpret his motive in advocating a brilliant marriage for her, 
 or draw the conclusion that he considered her not worthy of the 
 highest love and honor. But now he began to ask himself if she 
 was not justified in such an inference. Had he not, in his deter- 
 mination to ignore his own feelings to put them entirely aside 
 rushed fiercely to the extreme of deciding what would be best for 
 her? Was there not something of presumption in his positive and 
 oft-repeated opinion that her ambition demanded a field which 
 only a great marriage would give? A certain emphasis was lent 
 to this questioning by his recent realization of the motives of M. 
 de Chateaumesnil. Since it had been made clear to him that the 
 Marquis was simply intent upon making a mariage de convenance, 
 he had endeavored to console himself, to silence his sense of in- 
 dignation by thinking that, after all, such a marriage might suit 
 Mrs. Falconer better than another, and that at least she was a free 
 agent in accepting it. But now these consolatory reflections 
 seemed to vanish and leave him face to face with the fact that this 
 woman, with all her capabilities for giving and receiving happi-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 309 
 
 ness, was about to enter into a worldly contract with which hearts 
 have naught to do. 
 
 He found time for these meditations after his return to Eome. 
 He had shaken off the society of the Marquis and gone out alone. 
 Having dined at a cafe, where he met no one whom he knew, he 
 strolled into the streets and almost unconsciously took his way 
 toward the heart of ancient Rome. There was no moon at least, 
 there was no moonlight but the sky was of a sSft, velvety pur- 
 ple, like the petal of a pansy, out of which the stars shone great 
 and glorious in golden beauty. As he passed along, many pictures 
 met his eye which at another time would have interested and de- 
 lighted him. Now it was the arched portone of some stately pal- 
 ace which gave a glimpse of the spacious court within, where the 
 musical plash of falling water was heard that sound which per- 
 vades Rome and where there was a glimpse of lofty columns, 
 sculptured heads, and armorial bearings. Then came the entrance 
 of some deep, narrow street, spanned by a feudal arch from un- 
 der which a cavalier of the middle ages might have emerged. 
 Next, with the sound of laughter and the tinkling of a musical 
 instrument, a wine-shop threw a flood of crimson light across the 
 way, revealing a scene of Rembrandt lights and shades. Here 
 was a piazza filled with the cheerful tread of feet, the roll of pass- 
 ing carriages, the glare of brilliant windows. Yonder a campa- 
 nile lifted its graceful outlines against the wonderful sky ; there 
 the rich drapery over the door of a church showed that the devo- 
 tion of the Forty Hours was being celebrated within, and as some 
 hand drew back the leathern curtain there was a glimpse through 
 a vista of pillars of the high altar ablaze with light. 
 
 A strange contrast to these scenes the Forum presented when 
 he reached it a picture of death in the midst of life. The star- 
 light filled the great open space with a mild radiance which made 
 sufficiently clear the fragments of ruin with which it is strewed, 
 and the groups of delicate columns that stand in mournful, isolated 
 beauty. The lamps along the roadway shone like terrestrial stars, 
 while above them the somber Palatine lifted its dark crown of 
 pines and cypresses. Turning toward the west, Stanhope saw 
 hanging over the roofs and towers of Rome the golden crescent 
 of the moon in her first quarter a young queen of night just
 
 310 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 stepped upon her throne, whence she would soon rule the whole 
 vast firmament, and quench with her light the myriad stars that 
 now, "like patines of bright gold," embroidered the sky. 
 
 It was a place and a time to wake all the poetry of any nature 
 not wholly commonplace. And generally no one would have 
 been quicker than Stanhope to be thrilled by the associations and 
 the beauty of the scene. But to-night a strong personal emotion 
 had laid its hold upon him, and, for once, he was comparatively 
 insensible to the most august memories, the most beautiful effects. 
 He descended into the excavated space, and, taking his way care- 
 fully among the confusion of fallen shafts and scattered blocks of 
 marble, reached the solitary column of Phocas, and sat down on its 
 no-longer-buried base. Here, with quiet all around him, and the 
 serene glory of heaven above, he felt able to confront a knowledge 
 which he had long endeavored to hide from himself. 
 
 Yes, he loved her. There could not be a doubt of that. The 
 mask of friendship could no longer conceal the face of love. He 
 had nattered himself that he was impervious to this passion which 
 made fools of other men, that what he felt was only the most 
 sympathetic friendship, the most admiring affection ; but he knew 
 now that he had deceived himself, and that the winged arrow was 
 buried in his heart. She had said that he did not think her worthy 
 of love, and all the time he was offering her a devotion the greater 
 in that it asked for no return. For he clearly regarded and ac- 
 cepted the position the fact that her wealth made an obstacle he 
 could never overcome. To go to this woman, dowered like a 
 princess, and say, "I love you, but I have nothing to offer besides 
 my heart and an obscure name," was something from which every 
 instinct of pride revolted. And, moreover, he had no reason to 
 change his opinion that she was fitted for a great position, a 
 social rank of assured power. He knew her so well no one else 
 could ever know her as well, he thought, with a pang that he 
 appreciated all her capabilities for filling such a position, all that 
 she would be to a man whose life she would consent to share, 
 whose career she would aid. But, then, that man should give her 
 the devotion that she deserved. He should think less of her splen- 
 did fortune than of herself. His eyes should not leave her to 
 wander toward any rare, brilliant creature like Irdne.
 
 HEART Of STEEL. 311 
 
 He rose suddenly to his feet. He remembered how De Cha- 
 teamnesnil had looked, had spoken, as he rode by Irene's side that 
 afternoon. " If I had known ! " he said, taking off his hat to a soft 
 breeze that came wandering by. " I believe that but for my influ- 
 ence she would not have entertained his suit and what if in my 
 blind presumption I have induced her to wreck her life a second 
 time ? It shall not be ! I will tell him" He paused. " What 
 can I tell him? He has spoken: she has promised to answer. 
 There is nothing more to be said. But if but if" He looked 
 up at the great constellations burning so steadily overhead. " Ah, 
 madness and folly ! If I could grasp one of those shining stars, 
 would it be well with me? The star would not be content down 
 here ; and I feeling that I had plucked it from where it should 
 have shone I should be miserable! No man can possess self- 
 respect who, without some brilliant counterbalancing advantage, 
 seeks to marry a woman of great fortune. No she must marry 
 a man of high rank I have always felt that but I hope now that 
 it may not be De Chateaumesnil." 
 
 While Stanhope thus communed with himself in the Forum, 
 and derived little comfort therefrom, Mrs. Falconer, stepping out 
 on the balcony of her salon, called Irene to come and look at the 
 new moon. 
 
 The girl went out, letting the soft drapery of the window fall 
 behind her, and stood for a moment motionless. The beauty of 
 the night penetrated her like a charm. The flowers with which 
 the balcony was filled were exhaling their fragrance on the air. 
 The city lay at her feet, a mass of shadow, braided with lines of 
 light, here and there sharp silhouettes of roofs and towers cut 
 against the sky, which seemed to throb with the glory of its myr- 
 iad stars, while afar toward St. Peter's the moon was lying like a 
 fairy boat in the great infinity of purple ether. 
 
 " Is it not beautiful ? " said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " Oh, it is more than that," answered Irene. She advanced 
 and stood by the balustrade, looking out over the scene. " It is 
 so exquisite that it hushes speech. It is like a great church full 
 of the thought of God. That is the Paschal moon," she added, 
 softly.
 
 312 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Tes, Easter is not far off," answered Mrs. Falconer. " Next 
 Sunday is Passion-Sunday. And you know that during the last 
 two weeks of Lent nothing social goes on in Rome. I am not 
 sorry. It will give one time to draw breath to think. One has 
 need to think now and then," she said, dropping her voice a 
 little. 
 
 They were both silent for some time. Then Mrs. Falconer 
 said : " Let us sit down. Night is a good time for confidence. 
 And I have something to say something, also, to ask." 
 
 There was a light chair in a nook of the balcony, on which 
 she sat, while Irene knelt on a silk cushion near her feet, and, 
 leaning against the balustrade, still looked on the picture of city 
 and sky. Several minutes passed, and then Mrs. Falconer said : 
 
 "Are you not tired? That was a long ride this afternoon for 
 your first." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose I am tired," Irene answered, "but I do not 
 feel it now. It is delightful to be here alone with you and the 
 night. I am glad you told Antonio to deny you to any one who 
 called." 
 
 " I, too, am tired a little. It has been some time since I rode 
 before. And one needs practice in such exercise. Did you en- 
 joy it?" 
 
 " I found the instruction the attempt to do something which 
 I did not understand fatiguing at first. But the rest at the villa 
 refreshed me, and on our return .1 felt more at ease in the 
 saddle." 
 
 " And perhaps you found M. de Chateaumesnil a pleasanter 
 instructor than Colonel Bevis." 
 
 " I did," answered the girl, frankly. " There was a grace even 
 in his mode of instructing. How true it is that there is a pleasant 
 and an unpleasant way to do everything ! M. de Chateaumesnil's 
 way is always pleasant." 
 
 " He is very charming," said Mrs. Falconer, half absently. 
 Then she roused herself, and laughed softly. " Perhaps you will 
 be surprised," she said, " that I am hesitating whether or not to 
 marry him." 
 
 " Are you ? " asked Ir&ne, in a tone of quick interest. She 
 looked up, and by the starlight tried to read the face above her,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 313 
 
 but the obscurity baffled the attempt. Her voice changed when 
 she spoke again. "No," she said. " I am not surprised. How- 
 ever charming a man may be as an acquaintance, a woman must 
 hesitate when it is a question of uniting her life to his. Indeed, 
 it seems to me that he would cease to be charming when he tried 
 to draw so near to one." 
 
 "Is that your feeling?" asked Mrs. Falconer. "But you 
 know that if one lives in the world one must face this question of 
 marriage. The world will not let one alone," she said, with a 
 slight accent of impatience. " People will not realize that one 
 may wish to be free, that one may enjoy freedom. And if one 
 has a large fortune, then there is no peace suitors come in mul- 
 titudes ; each of those whom one calls one's friends has a candi- 
 date to propose. It becomes very wearying at last." 
 
 " But you are not a person to do a thing because your friends 
 wish you to do it," said Irene. She was still on her knees, but 
 she had turned away from the city and sky to look eagerly into 
 the face that only showed its outlines and kept its expression like 
 a secret veiled by the night. " You are proud and steadfast, and 
 able to stand alone. What right has any one to dictate what is 
 best for your life?" 
 
 " No right, certainly," said the other ; " but friendship has 
 some privileges, and to offer advice is held to be one of them. I 
 do not hear a great deal, because I am rich and it is one of the 
 advantages of riches that people do not presume to offer one ad- 
 vice. But there are a few people who speak to me freely, and 
 the burden of their counsel is the same make a brilliant mar- 
 riage, use your wealth to purchase higher rank, more assured po- 
 sition." 
 
 " But you do not mean to heed them ? " cried the girl, with a 
 quiver of indignation in her voice. 
 
 " Not exactly," answered Mrs. Falconer. " I would not enter- 
 tain the suit of a prince if his personal character did not com- 
 mand my liking and respect. But, after all, there are other 
 things in life besides love, and when one has been cheated " 
 
 " But because one has been cheated by base metal, one does 
 not doubt the existence of gold," said the proud young voice. 
 
 "Does one not?" was the slightly sad reply. "One is at 
 14
 
 314: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 least inclined to do so. And, as I have said, the passion which 
 plays so large a part in novels really plays a very small part in 
 actual life. There are many other things to be considered. One 
 must think of one's future to grow old alone will be melancholy. 
 Another thing which is melancholy is to have no great controlling 
 interest in life. What is mine? To amuse myself, to enjoy 
 society, to draw around me cultivated and delightful people. 
 But I should enjoy all this more if I felt that I was directing it to 
 some end and that end the ambition of a man whom I admire." 
 
 "I can imagine that," said Irene, musingly. il That would bo 
 noble to merge one's self in a great career but could one do it 
 if one did not love the man ? " 
 
 "I thought that you did not believe in love," said the other, 
 looking down at her and trying in turn to read the starlit counte- 
 nance. " I thought that you repelled the idea of such a thing ? " 
 
 "So I do for myself," was the calm reply, " because I should 
 like to be always free, and whoever loves another deeply is not 
 free but bound. It is in the power of that other to render you 
 happy or miserable, to make or mar your life. Now I " she 
 lifted her head " wish to hold my life in my own hand. But 
 why do I speak of myself? I told you once before what I feel 
 on this subject. We are talking of yourself. Could you merge 
 your life in that of another if you cared nothing for him? " 
 
 " Certainly not if I cared nothing. But there are many de- 
 grees of caring short of passion. Here is the Marquis de Cha- 
 teaumesnil : can you not fancy that a woman might find pleasure 
 in aiding his career, in opening, perhaps, a field for his ambition? " 
 
 " Yes, if she loved him, I can imagine no higher pleasure." 
 
 " We are not talking of love," said Mrs. Falconer, impatiently. 
 "Put it out of your mind. You have heard of mariage de con- 
 venance it is that I shall make if I marry the Marquis. He offers 
 me the distinction of high rank. I can give him wealth, sym- 
 pathy, aid." 
 
 "And is the distinction of rank all that he offers you ? " asked 
 Irene, with a vibrating thrill in her tone. " If so, I can only say 
 this : I am poor, I am almost nameless ; but if the Marquis de 
 Chuteaumesnil, or any other man on earth, came and offered me 
 his rank and not his heart, I should tell him that I was far too
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 315 
 
 proud to accept it that I knew myself worthy of love, and would 
 have that or nothing ! " 
 
 Even in the starlight the flash of her eyes could be seen, and 
 the ring of her voice had in it something magnetic. Mrs. Fal- 
 coner caught her hand and held it firmly. 
 
 "But rememher," she said, "that I have no love for him. 
 "\Vhen a man offers a heart, he wishes a heart in return." 
 
 " And would marriage be other than a hideous mockery, un- 
 less one's heart and all one's heart were in it ? " asked the girl. 
 " Perhaps I am what worldly people call romantic, but I can 
 only judge by my own feelings. And when I look at you you 
 so worthy of love I can not believe that you think of this dese- 
 cration. There is one person who I am sure will agree with me. 
 Does Mr. Stanhope know what you think of doing ? " 
 
 Involuntarily Mrs. Falconer drew her hand back. Irene could 
 not perceive whether her face altered, but her voice had alto- 
 gether changed it was cooler and harder when she said : 
 
 "Mr. Stanhope not only knows, but he is one of the friends, 
 of whom I spoke a moment ago, who urge me to accept M. de 
 Chateaumesnil." 
 
 " Mr. Stanhope ! " repeated Irene in an amazed voice. " Can 
 you be in earnest? Forgive me, but I have always been sure 
 that he loves you himself." 
 
 "Many people have thought so because we are such good 
 friends," said Mrs. Falconer, in the same tone ; " but it is a mis- 
 take. Mr. Stanhope is not a man who will ever love, in the sense 
 of exclusive passion ; and he certainly is not a man who will ever 
 think of marrying, for he does not wish to place any fetter upon 
 his life. Besides, you forget, what he never forgets, that I am 
 very rich, therefore I must make a great marriage." 
 
 " On the contrary, because you are so rich, it seems to me 
 that you are free to do what you will," said Ir&ne, almost hotly ; 
 "that there is no reason why you should sacrifice yourself in a 
 mariage de convenance." 
 
 " Does it seem to you a sacrifice? I thought that you admired 
 M. de Chateaumesnil very much." 
 
 " So I do ; and if you cared for him and he adored you for 
 a man ought to^ove much more than a woman I should be glad
 
 316 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 to see you Madame la Marquise. But not even M. de Chateaumes- 
 nil is worthy of you unless he brings his heart, as well as his 
 name and rank, to lay at your feet." 
 
 "Men like the Marquis de Chateaumesnil have not often a 
 heart left by the time they have reached his age," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. " Nothing wears out all freshness of emotion like a life of 
 pleasure. One should not expect more than a man can give." 
 
 "But you have a right not only to expect but to demand all 
 that a man can give," said Irene, with the proud accent that had 
 been in her voice before. " I like the Marquis, and I admire even 
 more than I like him. He seems made for the court of a king ; 
 but were he a king himself I should still say to you : "Wait ! Life 
 must hold many chances for one so young, so beautiful, so rich as 
 you are. It must be that at last the hour and the man will 
 come." 
 
 " I do not think so," said Mrs. Falconer. " One does not 
 readily recover from such a disappointment as I had in my mar- 
 riage. I thought then that I should never believe in, never ex- 
 pect anything from, a man again. Such a revelation of coldness 
 and hardness, of selfishness and self-indulgence, was enough to 
 turn a woman's heart to stone." 
 
 " But are all men like that ? " 
 
 " All men are not, but the vast majority are. "Whether it is 
 ambition, or self-indulgence, or pride, they are alike selfish in it. 
 I have never seen a man who thought more of another than of 
 himself. Therefore, it is useless to hope for the impossible ; and 
 if anything is to be gained by a mariage de convenance, why 
 should one not make it ? At least, it will be frank and open this 
 time. There will be no pretense of devotion offered or required." 
 
 Irene did not answer. She was indeed struck dumb by this 
 calm cynicism. She could not tell how the woman's heart and 
 pride were writhing under it how her mood was that which 
 finds pleasure in a desperate deed. Had the Marquis de Chateau- 
 mesnil been there at that moment, she would probably have held 
 out her hand and said, " I will marry you." 
 
 There was silence for some time ; then Mrs. Falconer said : 
 " I did not mean to talk so much about myself. I meant to speak 
 of other things. Do you know " she hesitated " I am a little
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 317 
 
 troubled by the association into which we have drifted with Couut 
 Waldegrave ? " 
 
 " What is there to be troubled about ? " asked Irene and now 
 it was Tier voice that changed "have we drifted into any associa- 
 tion with him ? It seems to me that we have only met him now 
 and then, when it has been impossible to avoid doing so." 
 
 This was true, and Mrs. Falconer paused. There was appar- 
 ently nothing more to say. Yet she felt that something more 
 must be said. After a moment she asked : 
 
 " What do you think of him on further acquaintance ? " 
 
 "I have thought of him as little as possible," was the reply. 
 " His presence wakes such bitter recollection, that I try to ignore 
 it. Yet I wish to be just, and if one could conceive him other 
 than he is I mean, with another name, another birth I might 
 think him not a disagreeable person." 
 
 " That is surely damning him with faint praise," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, smiling. 
 
 " It is high praise from me, of /*," said Irene. 
 
 Then there was silence again, during which Mrs. Falconer 
 nerved herself to say ! 
 
 " I am afraid you will be sorry to hear that Mr. Stanhope 
 thinks Count Waldegrave should be told who you are. 1 ' 
 
 "What ! " cried Irene, in a sharp, quick tone. She lifted her- 
 self suddenly to an erect position, like one who hears a sound of 
 danger. "If Mr. Stanhope does that, I will never forgive him! " 
 she said, passionately. " I will tell him so ; I will not permit it. 
 The matter is my affair. He has no right to interfere." 
 
 She uttered these sentences with proud impetuosity. Her 
 whole nature was in arms. At that moment nothing seemed 
 to her so intolerable as that Waldegrave should know the 
 truth. 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Falconer, quietly, " I think that you for- 
 get that Mr. Stanhope has every right to interfere indeed, he has 
 more than a right. He has an obligation to do so." 
 
 "He has nothing of the kind," said Irene, still passionate and 
 proud. " This is something which does not belong to his prov- 
 ince. It is / who have a right to say what shall or shall not be 
 done in a matter which affects myself alone."
 
 318 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "The question is," said the other, "does it affect yourself 
 alone ? " 
 
 " "Whom else could it affect ? " she asked, haughtily. 
 
 " Is it possible you do not see that it affects Count Walde- 
 grave ? His interest in you has been evident from the first and 
 it is also evident that it increases. Is it, therefore, honorable to 
 leave him in ignorance on such a point as this? " 
 
 " What right has he, or any one of his name, to expect any 
 consideration from me ? " 
 
 " Such a question is not like you. It is not what others have 
 a right to expect from us that we are to think of, so much as what 
 is worthy of one's self." 
 
 " And why is this not worthy of me ? " 
 
 "Because no concealment is worthy of a noble nature ; and 
 because, if you wiD look closely into your motives, you will find, I 
 am sure, that they are not worthy. Answer me one question : 
 Do yon think that your mother would approve of your course ? " 
 
 Irene was silent for a moment. She was apparently struggling 
 with herself; and when she finally spoke, it was to say in a tone 
 of bitterness : 
 
 " What have I told you before ? My mother was an angel. 
 But I am not like her. You can not expect me to be like her, 
 when you remember who is my father." 
 
 " But I do expect it," said Mrs. Falconer. " You have her ex- 
 ample, and, if there is greater strength of passion in your nature 
 than there was in hers, that strength can be turned to good 
 as well as evil. Indeed, all your future depends upon how you 
 use it." 
 
 Irene could almost have fancied it was her mother who spoke 
 but to rouse that association, in order to overcome her bitter- 
 ness toward Waldegrave, was like fighting fire with fire. It re- 
 mained to be seen which would prove strongest, love or hatred. 
 Just now it was hatred which seemed in the ascendant. 
 
 "If fate has forced into my hand a weapon, am I to blame? " 
 she asked, presently. " I have done nothing. I have never given 
 Count Waldegrave a kind look, hardly a civil word. But if he 
 laid his heart down at my feet I should not be sorry I should 
 put my foot on it and say, ' So my mother's fared ! ' "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 319 
 
 " Irene ! " exclaimed Mrs. Falconer, startled and shocked. " I 
 would not have believed this ! My child, you are ruining your 
 nature. Do you not know that the harm you may do others is as- 
 nothing compared to the harm you are doing yourself? " 
 
 " Am I ? " said the girl, wearily. She rose and stood for a mo- 
 ment with her tall, graceful figure outlined against the starry soft- 
 ness of the sky. Then she bent suddenly and left a light caress 
 on her companion's cheek. " Do not let us talk of this," she said. 
 "I can only struggle and pray. Good-night." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "Ir is as you feared," said Mrs. Falconer the next time that 
 she saw Stanhope. " Irene has perceived Count Waldegrave's 
 admiration, and, although she is too proud to take one step to en- 
 courage it, she is evidently entertaining the thought of some dra- 
 matic finale when he will lay his heart at her feet and she will 
 put her foot upon it and say that ' so her mother's fared ! ' " 
 
 Stanhope frowned impatiently. The result of being in pain 
 one's self is not always to make one more sympathetic with an- 
 other's pain. 
 
 "The girl is mad," he said. "She has brooded over one 
 thought until it has almost taken the form of a mania. Since her 
 devotion to her mother is so great, it is a pity she would not re- 
 call her counsels especially her dying request. But nothing is, 
 happily, more unlikely than that Count Waldegrave will lay his 
 heart at her feet." 
 
 " I thought you fancied that there was danger of it," said Mrs. 
 Falconer. 
 
 " There is danger, but not probability. However much he may 
 be attracted by her and he is evidently very much attracted he 
 is not likely to forget what is demanded of a man in his position ; 
 he is not likely to do more than admire a nameless, portionless 
 American girl." 
 
 " I remember expressing that opinion once, and you spoke of 
 the marriage of his uncle. But I thought then of the great dif- 
 ference between Irene's position and that of her mother."
 
 320 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "You were right, there is a decided difference. Madame 
 Lescar was not only a great heiress and a famous beauty, but she 
 was the daughter of one of the most distinguished of American 
 statesmen. It was no very unequal marriage for him who was 
 Count "Waldegrave in those days. But her daughter is to all in- 
 tents and purposes nobody." 
 
 " There I think you are mistaken. A person so beautiful and 
 interesting makes a rank for herself." 
 
 He shook his head. " You are mistaken. Her rare gifts 
 would only draw attention to the fact that she has no rank if you 
 did not throw the mantle of your protection around her. But, 
 although her social position would prevent Count Waldegrave 
 from thinking of marrying her, it does not prevent him from find- 
 ing her very attractive ; therefore, since I do not hold him ac- 
 countable for his uncle's wrong-doing, I think it right that he 
 should know who she is. I will speak to her and frankly tell her 
 so." 
 
 " I can see no good that your speaking to her will effect. She 
 is not to be influenced on this point, however docile she may be 
 in other matters." 
 
 "I shall not attempt to influence her," he said, quietly. "I 
 shall simply tell her what I mean to do." 
 
 " Here is your opportunity, then," said Mrs. Falconer " for 
 yonder she comes." 
 
 Stanhope turned. She was coming down the long suite of 
 apartments, and he was struck afresh by the grace of her bearing, 
 by the manner in which the spacious rooms and lofty ceilings, the 
 wide doorways hung with Oriental stuffs, the great spaces filled 
 with mirrors, seemed fit surroundings for her noble beauty. '' She 
 was certainly born to be a princess ! " he said to himself as he 
 advanced to meet her. 
 
 She gave him her hand and said, "I heard that you were here, 
 so I thought I should like to speak to you if you have no ob- 
 jection." 
 
 " Could I possibly have an objection ? " he answered, smiling. 
 " And, as it chances, I was just remarking that I wished to speak 
 to you." 
 
 She looked at him with a flash of intuition, as she sat down in
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 321 
 
 a chair that he drew forward. " Perhaps we both have the samo 
 thing on our minds," she said. " Mrs. Falconer has told me that 
 you are about to do something to which I have a right to object. 
 You are thinking of telling Count "Waldegrave who I am is it 
 not so ? " 
 
 44 Yes," he answered, " I am thinking of telling him because 
 I believe it is the right thing to do ; because 1 feel that he should 
 know the true position in which you stand to one another." 
 
 " We stand in the position of mere acquaintances," she said, 
 " and no revelation of yours could make us stand in any other. 
 But I am not a child, Mr. Stanhope I must insist that my wishes 
 be regarded in this matter and I do not wish him to be told any- 
 thing concerning me." 
 
 "If you are not speaking as a child," said Stanhope, "you 
 must have a reason for such a wish. "What is it? " 
 
 A tide of color suffused her face, then left it white as marble. 
 " Do you need to ask what it is ? " she said, in a low tone. " There 
 ia no one in the world who should know the truth if I could help it. 
 But, above all, not he not any one belonging to the man who 
 has cast " 
 
 She suddenly paused and put her hand to her throat as if she 
 were choking a gesture which reminded Mrs. Falconer of the 
 day she first mentioned Count Waldegrave's name to her. But 
 her eyes did not lose their proud luster, and after a moment she 
 went on : 
 
 " It is not as if any end were to be gained by the revelation. 
 What right has Count Waldegrave to know anything of me? 
 What possible reason have you, Mr. Stanhope, for desiring to tell 
 him ? " 
 
 Stanhope hesitated an instant, then answered : 
 
 " Concealments are not only dishonorable they are almost 
 always unwise." 
 
 " But," said Irene, quickly, "how can concealment be dishon- 
 orable, when a person from whom a matter is concealed has no 
 claim to know it ? " 
 
 " Let us then say only that it is unwise. Chance may at any 
 time reveal to Count Waldegrave who you are when the fact 
 that the truth has been withheld from him will look very badly."
 
 322 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "How is that possible," she insisted, "when I have made no 
 false pretenses ? I bear my own name my mother's name. I 
 repeat that he, of all people, has no right to know anything more 
 about me." 
 
 Stanhope felt that he had no alternative but to speak plainly. 
 
 " He has a right," he said, " when through ignorance he is be- 
 ing led into an interest which you must recognize." 
 
 Her lip curled in haughty scorn. " What then ? " she asked. 
 " Is his interest of so much importance that you should rush to 
 put him on his guard and say to him that I am his uncle's dis- 
 owned daughter? If you do, Mr. Stanhope " she rose, pale and 
 looking like a queen in her anger " I can only say that I will 
 never forgive it, never as long as I live ! " 
 
 She quitted the room as she uttered the last word, leaving 
 Stanhope and Mrs. Falconer looking at one another. The latter 
 spoke first : 
 
 " Are you much surprised ? I told you how she felt on this 
 subject." 
 
 "I can hardly say that I am surprised at all," he replied, 
 calmly. " Her mother's warning is verified. But that does not 
 alter my intention to do what is right." 
 
 " You still intend to tell Count Waldegrave who she is ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly as soon as chance affords me a good oppor- 
 tunity. I do not think that the matter is, as yet, of so much 
 importance that I should make a formal visit in order to commu- 
 nicate it to him." 
 
 She reflected for a moment; then said: "If you will wait a 
 little, I can promise you a good opportunity. After Easter we 
 shall make some excursions to the hills, and probably Count Wal- 
 degrave will be of the party at least, one can easily arrange that 
 he shall be. In the mean time, it is not likely that he will see 
 Irdne. I mean to discontinue my receptions during the two com- 
 ing weeks, and make a kind of retreat. It is not necessary to 
 enter a convent for the purpose. One need only close one's 
 doors." 
 
 "I hope you do not mean to close them in the faces of all your 
 friends," said he. 
 
 She looked at him wita a faint smile. "You know that they
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 323 
 
 are never closed in yours" she said. " But I confess that I should 
 like to close them to every one else." 
 
 " Even " he hesitated a moment" to M. de Chateaumes- 
 nil ? " 
 
 "To M. de Chateaumesnil most of all," she replied; "because, 
 as you are probably aware, I have promised to answer him, and 
 I am not yet decided what my answer shall be. His presence, 
 therefore, though he is the most considerate of suitors, is like a 
 reproach to my delay." 
 
 She paused, and Stanhope did not speak. He was, in truth, 
 struggling with a mighty temptation the temptation to beg her 
 not to throw away her life in a loveless marriage ; to tell her that 
 one heart, at least, was passionately devoted to her. But this 
 seemed to him like disloyalty, almost like treachery, to his friend ; 
 and while he struggled, doubted, well-nigh yielded, she rose ab- 
 ruptly from her chair. 
 
 " Do not think that I mean to ask your advice," she said. " I 
 am well aware that one must decide for one's self in a matter of 
 this kind. Come, now, and tell me what you think of a picture 
 which I bought yesterday. I had not Lionel to assist me in the 
 purchase, for you know that he has gone with some artist friends 
 to the hills so I do not know whether or not I have been 
 cheated." 
 
 To answer for others is not often safe ; but to answer for that 
 chance which depends on the accidents of life is most conspicu- 
 ously unsafe. Mrs. Falconer had said that it was not likely that 
 Count Waldegrave would see Irene again until it should please 
 herself to allow a meeting ; but the perverse fate which had pre- 
 sided over their meetings from the first stepped in, and brought 
 them face to face in St. John Lateran on Palm-Sunday. 
 
 Accompanied by Mrs. Vance, Irene went there for high mass; 
 but, apart from the great dignity and historic renown of the Lat- 
 eran, the beautiful singing of its choir always attracts a crowd ; 
 so they found, on their arrival, a throng already gathered around 
 the tribune. The impregnable English chiefly represented by 
 women in seal-skin jackets, who plant their camp-stools with an 
 air of taking a redoubt were established many file deep. An
 
 324 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 American gentleman, however, courteously surrendered to Mrs. 
 Vance one of the few available seats, and Irene contentedly knelt 
 down behind her on the marble pavement, near one of the great 
 pillars. They had not long to wait until the celebrant with his 
 train of acolytes appeared before the altar, the canons in their 
 purple robes and white capes filed into their stalls, and the solemn 
 mass of Palm-Sunday began. 
 
 If it is impressive everywhere even in the humblest chapel 
 of the New World what was it in this august basilica, the Pope's 
 cathedral, the ''Mother and Head of all Churches,"* with its 
 host of glorious memories ? When the ceremony of blessing the 
 palms was over, and the procession bearing them moved down the 
 grand nave to the magnificent anthems which tell how " The He- 
 brew children carrying palm-branches met our Lord, crying out 
 and saying, ' Hosanna in the highest 1 ' The Hebrew children 
 spread their garments in the way and cried out, saying, ' Hosanna 
 to the Son of David 1 Blessed is he that cometh in the name of 
 the Lord ! ' " Irene felt as if the great Lateran walls expanded in 
 direct vista to Jerusalem, where the multitude went forth to meet 
 the King who came to mount his awful throne of love. The sol- 
 emn vastness of the church, spreading on all sides into dim ob- 
 scurity, made a noble background for the stately forms, the robes 
 of splendid colors, the starry lights, the clouds of incense, the 
 massive golden cross borne aloft as a standard. From tomb and 
 chapel and shrine, the ages that had passed and in passing wit- 
 nessed how many repetitions of this scene ! seemed looking on 
 with the steadfast calm of eternity, while the silver voices rang 
 through nave and aisle and transept, telling the old, old story in a 
 series of strophes which increase in beauty until they cry with 
 inspired fervor, " In faith we be united with the angels, and those 
 children crying to the triumpher over death, ' Hosanna in the 
 highest!'" 
 
 Far and yet farther these voices recede. The procession grows 
 indistinguishable to the sight then disappears. It has passed into 
 the great portico, and when it returns it finds the doors closed, to 
 
 * The ancient west front of the Lateran bears the inscription, " Sacro- 
 sancta Lateranensis ecclesia omnium urbis et orbis ecclesiarum mater et 
 captit."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 325 
 
 represent how heaven's gates were barred against lost man. A 
 semi-chorus within sings the first two verses of the hymn, " Gloria, 
 laus, et honor," and the full chorus replies from without sounds 
 that seem infinitely remote and of the most solemn pathos. At 
 the conclusion, the sub-deacon strikes the door with the staff of 
 the cross which he bears, to denote that through the redemption 
 of the cross the gates of heaven were unbarred. Then the doors 
 are thrown open and the procession enters, the chorus with a 
 burst of harmony recounting the final entry of our Lord's trium- 
 phal procession into the holy city. 
 
 Irene felt herself thrilled in every fiber. Past and present 
 seemed merged for her into one glorious whole. It was a splendid 
 burst of color, as well as of harmony, which the opening of those 
 massive doors revealed. A vision of blue hills and tender sky, far 
 away, threw out the gleaming robes, the burnished cross, all the 
 majestic form of homage which man has been offering to God in 
 this old sanctuary of faith for fifteen centuries. She looked at the 
 procession advancing, with its standard borne in front, its palms, 
 the emblems of victory; its glad, jubilant song and then she 
 glanced up to where, over the arch of the tribune, a grand mosaic 
 head of oar Lord, attributed to the time of Constantino, and evi- 
 dently of the fourth century, looks down. Around it are the six- 
 winged seraphim; afar, the New Jerusalem, the entrance into 
 which this mysterioiis procession typified, as did that other pro- 
 cession of eighteen centuries ago. 
 
 The long train having re-entered the sanctuary, the canons 
 being again in their stalls, the celebrant, with his attendants, be- 
 fore the altar, the mass proceeded. On this day the entire history 
 of the Passion forms a part of it, and was chanted by three voices 
 of exquisite beauty. The one which sustained the narrative was 
 a tenor of rare sweetness ; the words of our Saviour were given 
 in a deep, rich bass, and those of any other persons in a high con- 
 tralto. No music could be worthy of such a theme save that in 
 which it was sung the noble, simple chant born of Catholic wor- 
 ship, and belonging essentially to it. The voices carried a pene- 
 trating sense of what they expressed, even to those who did not 
 follow the text. Long as it is, monotonous as it might have 
 seemed, not a movement was heard in all the throng while the
 
 326 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 touching cadences rose and fell in the sorrowful history given by 
 St. Matthew. 
 
 As Irene leaned against the pillar, in her black draperies, her 
 eye fastened on the spot in the sanctuary whence the voices 
 proceeded, she seemed to Waldegrave, who stood near, but on 
 whom as yet her glance had not fallen, to be absorbed in listening. 
 In truth, her thoughts were taking a wide sweep. She heard the 
 shouts of the Jewish multitude, she saw the temporizing Roman 
 governor, the indifferent Roman soldiers, the divine figure of the 
 Victim, beaten with many stripes and crowned with thorns, bear- 
 ing his cross to the height of Calvary. And then she saw how, 
 in all ages, this tragedy has been repeated how, in the person of 
 his Church, of his faithful servants, of his vicar, Christ is con- 
 tinually being led forth by a furious rabble to be crucified afresh, 
 while the temporizing or indifferent world looks on. Certain 
 words of solemn warning recurred to her : " The servant is not 
 greater than his master. If they have persecuted ME, they will 
 also persecute you." 
 
 She had forgotten possible weariness in these thoughts, when 
 her drapery was lightly touched, and she turned, to see Waldegrave 
 standing by her with a camp-stool in his hand. 
 
 u I have been watching you for some time," he said, in a low 
 tone, " and I am sure you must be very tired. "Will you not take 
 this and sit down? " 
 
 " Thank you ; but I am not tired,'' she answered. " I will not 
 deprive you " 
 
 " You will not be depriving me," he interposed. " I do not 
 use such a seat. I thought you looked weary, so I obtained it for 
 you." 
 
 After this it was impossible to refuse, and Irene sat down. 
 She was conscious that Waldegrave stood by her, leaning against 
 the pillar as she had done before. Once she looked toward him. 
 He was standing like a statue, with that absolute quietude which 
 is rightly held to belong to high-breeding, yet which is rare, even 
 in the most high-bred. And, as he stood uncovered, the hand 
 which held his hat hanging by his side, it struck her suddenly, 
 with the force of a new discovery, that he was a singularly hand- 
 some man. But it was a severe type of beauty clear-cut, pale,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 327 
 
 and cold. The broad, perpendicular brow expressed intellectual 
 force; the deep eyes had a penetrating power that seemed made 
 to find Truth at the bottom of her deepest well ; while the mouth 
 and chin, if fit for Antinous, were also without a trace of soften- 
 ing weakness. He looked like one on whom Nature had set her 
 seal of ruler, but set it with so much nobility and loftiness that it 
 was impossible to imagine him descending to anything petty or 
 base. Involuntarily Irdne found herself thinking, "Would he 
 use his strength to crush a woman if she stood in the path of his 
 ambition ? " 
 
 But it was only for a moment that glance or thought lasted. 
 She quickly turned both her eyes and mind away. The long 
 Gospel was now ending, and the solemn part of the mass com- 
 mencing. Not until all was over, and she rose from her knees, 
 did she look toward Waldegrave again. Then, when she turned 
 to thank him for the seat he had provided, he quietly joined Mrs. 
 Vance and herself as they walked down the nave, instead of fol- 
 lowing the greater part of the crowd in their exit by the transept. 
 Near the door they met the gentleman a well-known acquaint- 
 ance who had surrendered his seat to Mrs. Vance, and they 
 emerged together into the portico, where the warm, soft air met 
 them like a caress, and the tender beauty of the spring day burst 
 upon them with a sense of freshly revealed charm. 
 
 There are many beautiful views to be seen in the seven-hilled 
 city, many a majestic picture to be imprinted on the mind and 
 heart, but among them all there is none more glorious than this 
 view from the great west front of the Lateran. Immediately be- 
 fore it is that open grassy sweep which was the favorite prome- 
 nade of the mediaeval popes during the thousand years of their 
 residence in the old palace of the Lateran. What sumptuous 
 pictures of those warlike and heroic ages this space recalls ! The 
 sunlight, which lies so quietly on the green turf and the long ave- 
 nue of mulberry-trees stretching away to Santa Croce, has lit up 
 glancing steel and floating banners, splendid processions flashing 
 with light and color, as emperors, kings, ernbassadors, and prel- 
 ates came hither in state, when all nations owned a Father and 
 an Arbiter in the Vicar of Christ. Five general councils have 
 met here and passed into the basilica to deliberate on questions
 
 328 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 as wide as the world and stretching beyond the world into eter- 
 nity. Here St. Francis, coming from Assisi to obtain permission 
 to found the great Franciscan order, flung himself at the feet of 
 Innocent III ; and in this church he met St. Dominic for the first 
 time. Here treachery opened the Lateran gate to Henry IV of 
 Germany, after a siege of three years ; and here Kobert Guiscard, 
 with his mailed chivalry at his back, came to punish the venal city 
 with fire and sword. Here Gregory VII lifted up his voice for 
 the last time in public, in the council convoked to denounce these 
 outrages that voice which was to say in dying, "I have loved 
 justice and hated iniquity ; therefore I die in exile." And to 
 whom the majestic reply was uttered, " Because God has given 
 thee the heathen for thine inheritance and the uttermost parts of 
 the earth for thy possession, Vicar of Christ, in exile thou canst 
 not die." 
 
 Such are the memories which in this spot crowd upon the 
 mind. And meanwhile the world has no lovelier picture than 
 that which lies before the gaze. The old Aurelian wall with its 
 rich tones of color ; the many-hued Campagna spreading beyond, 
 and crossed by the massive broken arches of the Claudian aque- 
 duct, which stretch over the vast plain until lost in the magic 
 haze of distance ; the Alban heights, swimming in light and sown 
 with spots of pearl, like a vision of celestial mountains rather 
 than steeps which mortal feet can climb ; the exquisite Sabine 
 Hills, with Monte Genaro lifting his stately crest to greet the far- 
 ther Apennines ; and near at hand, seen across the wide, open 
 common set with avenues of trees, the basilica of Santa Croce 
 with its memories of Santa Helena and the Holy Sepulchre, the 
 ruins of an ancient temple, and the groves and gardens of the 
 Villa "Wolkonski, bright with masses of delicate-tinted bloom and 
 dark with the shade of ilex and cypress. 
 
 Irene, on whom this scene had always an effect even deeper 
 than the music to which she had likened it, uttered a low ex- 
 clamation when they emerged from the church and its full radi- 
 ance burst on them a vision of luminous distance, of Titan 
 arches, of blue, soft hills on the far horizon. "Waldegrave turned 
 to her with a smile. " It makes a noble conclusion, does it not? " 
 he said.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 329 
 
 She looked at Mm with a quick flash of comprehension. 
 "Yes," she answered, " and a conclusion in perfect harmony. It 
 is a fit end for all that we have seen and heard." 
 
 " I am glad we came," observed Mrs. Vance. " The services 
 have been most interesting and the music magnificent. But if it 
 had not been that Mr. Merry was kind enough to give me his 
 seat, I should have been very tired," she added, turning to that 
 gentleman. 
 
 " I think that when we next go to a long ceremony, we must 
 take camp-stools like the English," said Irene, laughing. " They 
 have their use, though they do not seem appropriate to the spirit 
 of devotion which fills the air of a Roman basilica." 
 
 " But you are made of body as well as of spirit," said Walde- 
 grave, " and therefore no amount of devotion can support you in 
 kneeling for hours on a hard marble floor." 
 
 " It does seem to support people, however," said Mr. Merry. 
 " In wandering about the churches I am constantly struck with 
 wonder and admiration at the devotion exhibited in this manner. 
 I am a strong man, but I do not think I could kneel on a cold 
 pavement for the length of time that I see many delicate women 
 doing." 
 
 " You have not the inward fire to warm and support you that 
 they have," said Irene, glancing at him with a smile. 
 
 " I suppose not," he answered, returning the smile, and think- 
 ing more of the beauty of the face thus revealed than of the in- 
 ward fire which he lacked. 
 
 Mrs. Vance was meanwhile looking anxiously around the large 
 empty piazza. " The carriage does not seem to have arrived," 
 she said, " though I told Giovanni to be sure and return for us." 
 
 " Coachmen sometimes need a little grace as well as other 
 people," said Mr. Merry. " Since yon have to wait, let us enjoy 
 this delicious air and sunlight by walking to the wall yonder." 
 
 Every one assenting, they descended the steps of the portico 
 and walked slowly across the open grassy space to the wall, which 
 the height of the ground on the inner side renders low enough to 
 be overlooked, even when standing immediately beside it. And 
 as Irene so stood and gazed over the beautiful scene, its radiance 
 seemed reflected in her face. All was peace and stillness around
 
 330 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 them. A bright carpet of flowers spread to the foot of the old 
 wall, where such carnage has often raged. Out in the plain a 
 lark rose up suddenly singing as it soared ; a distant cloud- 
 shadow fell over Tusculum and Frascati ; the fair blue sky bent 
 down to kiss the hills as if in an everlasting covenant of amity, 
 and the soft, fitful breeze was laden with the odor of countless 
 blossoms. 
 
 " How beautiful it is! " said Irene, speaking at length, softly, 
 and unaware that only Waldegrave was within sound of her voice. 
 " And how hard it seems to return to the petty things of life after 
 one has been stirred by noble thoughts and far-reaching emo- 
 tions ! " She paused a moment, then went on : "It is like stand- 
 ing on a mountain one never wants to go down to the plain 
 again." 
 
 " But is it not a good thing to be able to stand on a mountain 
 now and then?" asked Waldegrave. "There are many people 
 unable to leave the plain people to whom high thought or ex- 
 alted emotion is impossible ? " 
 
 She turned her face toward him its radiance slightly touched 
 with wistfulness. " Perhaps, after all, they are happiest," she 
 said. " They live on a dead-level, and never know the longing of 
 the spirit to spread its wings, the aversion to descending from 
 some height of feeling." 
 
 "That aversion is the penalty which must be paid for exalta- 
 tion," he answered. " And do you not see that it is well ? If the 
 feet which are ' beautiful upon the mountains ' did not sometimes 
 come down to those in the plain, life would be a duller, a more 
 sordid, a more commonplace thing than it is. And you can carry 
 the noble thoughts with you like a fragrance of incense from the 
 altar." 
 
 "I wish that I could," she said, simply, looking away again 
 toward the heavenly hills. 
 
 " I can answer that you do," he replied ; " and, more than that, 
 you waken them in others." 
 
 The words were not words of compliment, but spoken in a 
 tone of quiet sincerity, and they pierced her with a quick sense of 
 compunction. If he had read her heart, could the bitterness with 
 which it overflowed have awakened noble thoughts in him?
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 331 
 
 Standing here on this Palm-Sunday, with the songs of unearthly 
 triumph still ringing in her ears, and the story of divine forgive- 
 ness fresh in her memory, she seemed for a moment of time to be 
 lifted to the height on which her mother had stood when she said 
 that no wrong was worth resentment ; and the light of this thought 
 was in her eyes when she turned them hack to Waldegrave. 
 
 "I have not deserved for you to feel in that way about me," 
 she said, low yet quickly. " I do not think I could ever have 
 wakened noble thoughts in you for my own have not been noble 
 when I have been with you." 
 
 " I know that," he said, with the same quietness. " But, though 
 a cloud may pass over a beautiful landscape and darken it, we feel 
 that it is beautiful notwithstanding the shadow. So it is with you. 
 Whenever I have been near you, a cloud has thrown its shadow 
 over you, but I saw the landscape underneath. And I have seen 
 it smile for others." 
 
 The last words touched her : the sense of compunction grew 
 stronger. The thought came again to her, Was this man to blame 
 for the wrong which had blasted her mother's life and darkened 
 her own ? And was there not something of stupidity as well as 
 of malice in hating one not accountable for the wrong-doing of 
 another? She looked at him again with her candid eyes. 
 
 " I am sorry," she said, gently, " that we can never be friends 
 things of which you know nothing forbid it but the landscape 
 can at least smile for you as for others. There is no harm in 
 that." 
 
 "I feel the sunshine to-day and I am grateful for it," he re- 
 plied. " But will you let me ask why I can never hope to obtain 
 any friendly consideration from you? It is surely not only be- 
 cause I am a German ? " 
 
 " No," she answered. " It is not because you are a German." 
 
 "It is something personal to myself, then," he said, with a 
 slight smile. " It is less flattering to be disliked on personal than 
 on national grounds ; but there is more hope of overcoming such 
 a dislike. One may perhaps change what is obnoxious in one's 
 self, though one can not change one's country." 
 
 " I have said nothing of disliking you," she said, quickly for 
 Mrs. Vance and Mr. Merry, who had walked toward the Porta,
 
 332 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 were now returning " I have no cause ; it would be unjust and 
 foolish in me. But there is a wide ground between dislike and 
 friendship, and on that ground we must remain. Friendship is no 
 more possible between you and me, Count Waldegrave, than it is 
 possible for you to make yourself over again and disown your 
 name and your country! " 
 
 Despite herself, something of the repressed passion within her 
 made itself manifest in those words ; and it seemed to Waldegrave 
 that he had never met anything like the proud fire of her glance. 
 There was no time to remonstrate or demand an explanation, had 
 he been disposed to do so. But, in truth, he was more astonished 
 than offended. The sense of surprise and mystery excluded any 
 thought of mortified self-love. There was no room to doubt 
 her earnestness ; and since his nationality was not the mot de 
 Venigme, he felt unable to conjecture what it could be. One thing 
 only was plain there was no need for the defensive armor he 
 had been inclined to assume. Why should he put himself on his 
 guard against interest in a girl who told him that even friendship 
 was impossible between them ? 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MKS. FALCONER found that it was not altogether possible to 
 close her doors, as she had told Stanhope that she desired to do. 
 There were others beside himself who had established a familiar 
 right of entrance into her salon, who were in the habit of dropping 
 in for a cup of tea and an hour of pleasant talk in the evening, 
 whether she was formally at home or not. And there was no 
 part of the agreeable freedom of her life which she enjoyed more 
 than these informal gatherings of people, whose conversation gen- 
 erally ranged over the highest topics the discussion of great 
 questions, brightened now and then by gay bits of social satire or 
 light persiflage. 
 
 A group of this kind had assembled one evening in Holy Week. 
 Lady Dorchester came first with the Bevises, who were just re- 
 turned from a visit to Naples. Stanhope and the Marquis de
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 333 
 
 Chateamnesnil soon followed. After which appeared Erne and 
 Mr. Neville with a portfolio of sketches the result of a fortnight's 
 wandering among the Volscian Hills. It was the first time that 
 Ir&ne had seen Erne since their memorable walk in the Quinctian 
 meadows, and she met him with the eager cordiality of one who 
 wishes to efface a painful reminiscence. Indeed, there was some- 
 thing almost appealing in her manner something which seemed 
 begging him to forget and be friends again. 
 
 It was an appeal to which the young man was ready enough 
 to respond. There was in him none of the vanity which finds it 
 impossible to forgive such a wound. Though he had rushed away 
 in his first sore pain, he soon reminded himself that he had no one 
 to blame, no right to feel injury or disappointment. He had will- 
 fully courted rejection, and the result was his own fault. "I 
 have been a fool that is all! " he thought ; and when a man has 
 this basis of sound knowledge, much may be hoped from him. 
 
 The sketches naturally suggested the subject of conversation 
 for some time. Every one examined and commented upon them, 
 while Irene expressed an eager desire to see some of the places 
 represented especially Cori and Norba. 
 
 "But we have not yet been to Albano or Tivoli," said Mrs. 
 Falconer. " Let us begin by making excursions which are within 
 reasonable distance." 
 
 "Tivoli is considered the most attractive of all the places in 
 the immediate neighborhood of Rome," said Mrs. Bevis. "If 
 none of us have been there, why should we not begin with that ? " 
 
 "There is no reason why we should not," answered her hus- 
 band. " Of course, no one wishes to leave Rome this week ; but 
 on the first convenient day after Easter we can go to Tivoli if 
 Mrs. Falconer approves." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer expressed her approval. " And who will be 
 of the party ? " she asked. 
 
 Lady Dorchester, at whom she looked, smiled and shook her 
 head. " I have no great liking for rocks and water-falls," she said. 
 " ' I pray thee hold me excused.' " 
 
 Mr. Neville also declined pleading want of time and the fact 
 that he had once spent a month at Tivoli, and therefore knew it 
 well.
 
 334: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Then I should think you would be all the more anxious to 
 go," said Irene, turning to him. "Surely, familiarity with a 
 beautiful place does not lessen its charm for you ? " 
 
 " I am not so stupid," he answered, with a smile. " And if I 
 were a man of leisure I should like nothing better than to go 
 especially if I might claim the privilege of being your guide but 
 I have just spent ten days in rambling. Now I must shut myself 
 up in my studio and work." 
 
 " And you ? " said Irene, looking at Erne. " Surely you will 
 come with us? " 
 
 "If I were wise," he answered with a slightly melancholy 
 smile, " I should feel bound also to shut myself up in my studio 
 and work." 
 
 "But your tone implies that you will not be wise," she said. 
 " So I hope you will go to Tivoli. And after that you must help 
 me to carry the point about Cori and Norba. I shall not be satis- 
 fied until I have seen this " taking up, as she spoke, a sketch of 
 the cyclopean citadel of Norba. 
 
 " That is grand," said Mr. Neville ; " but what will enchant 
 you most is Ninfa ' the Pompeii of the middle ages.' Imagine 
 a city deserted by its inhabitants and converted by Nature into a 
 capital of Flora, where castles, walls, convents, and churches are 
 buried in flowers of countless variety and boundless profusion. 
 These flowers fill the streets, they form the congregations of the 
 churches, they sentinel the towers and ramparts. It is the wild- 
 est, the strangest, the most beautiful and most fairy-like scene I 
 have ever beheld 1 " 
 
 "But what is the meaning of it? " asked Irene. "Why was 
 the city deserted by its inhabitants? " 
 
 "Nobody knows. It is a mystery. Perhaps they are there 
 under a spell of enchantment, as flowers. It is not difficult to be- 
 lieve in fairies and their spells in Ninfa." 
 
 " "What an enchanting as well as enchanted place it must be ! " 
 said the girl. " I shall' certainly go there ! " 
 
 " Take care when you go," said the painter, " for the real spell 
 of enchantment is the fever. Even the shepherds dare not pass 
 a night within the walls. Under every flower there lurks the dart 
 of death."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 335 
 
 "And, as the season advances, the danger is greater," said 
 Erne. " On that account I wish it were possible for you to go at 
 once. For, as Mr. Neville says, it is unique there is nothing like 
 it in the world. The massive feudal architecture is covered with a 
 sea of flowers. The walls of the city are like a green rampart ivy 
 overspreads every inch of them, and flowers wave triumphantly, like 
 banners, from them. Hans Andersen ought to have gone to Ninfa. 
 It makes one think of just such wild, exquisite fancies as his." 
 
 " And can it never be reclaimed and inhabited again ? " asked 
 Irene. 
 
 Mr. Neville shook his head. " Never," he answered. " The 
 marvel is that it ever should have been inhabited. The Pontine 
 marshes lie at its door. The Nymphseus a beautiful foaming 
 stream which flows past it falls into a lake which is the very 
 haunt of fever, and just outside the. walls is a pool covered with 
 water-lilies and fringed with forget-me-nots, from which the 
 deadly miasma rises constantly." 
 
 "It was into this pool that the maiden from whom, according 
 to tradition, the town received its name, flung herself in order to 
 escape marrying an unsympathetic partito," said Erne. " And 
 in the lake into which the Nymphasus empties, Pliny mentions 
 that in his time there were floating islands called Saltuares, be- 
 cause they were said to move to the measure of dancing feet. So 
 you see Ninfa is decidedly an enchanted place." 
 
 "I never heard anything like it ! " said Ir6ne. " Have you a 
 picture of it ? " 
 
 Erne turned over the sheets in the portfolio, and presently 
 drew forth a sketch of a tower rising above an ivy-buried wall, 
 and reflected in a sheet of water fringed with all manner of flow- 
 ers and surrounded by tall reeds. 
 
 "It was from this tower that 'la bella Ninfa' flung herself," 
 he said. " It stands at the entrance of the town. I can not im- 
 agine anything more impressive than its appearance, especially to- 
 ward sunset. One thinks then of Virgil and Dante of souls be- 
 ing ferried over to Hades or Purgatory. One can fancy no figure 
 except that of Charon on the glittering, death-bearing expanse, 
 around which the tall reeds rustle mournfully, and only the sob- 
 bing cry of the water-hen comes at intervals."
 
 336 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " It reminds one of the tower that Dante described, where the 
 souls waited," said Irene, with her eyes fastened on the sketch. 
 " And such ideas are appropriate to a place of which Death is the 
 supreme ruler." 
 
 " That fact gives it the last touch of charm and mystery," said 
 Mr. Neville. "Death is there Death triumphant and crowned 
 with flowers." 
 
 " I am sure I shall dream of it to-night," said Irdne, putting 
 the sketch down. "I have never been so much impressed by the 
 mere description of any place. I should like to go there directly, 
 without waiting to see Tivoli or Albano, or any other place." 
 
 Meanwhile Colonel Bevis, in talking of Tivoli, had mentioned 
 Count Waldegrave's name. " He would be a pleasant addition to 
 the party," he observed. 
 
 " Oh, we must ask him by. all means," said Mrs. Falconer. " I 
 feel that we are in a manner bound to do so." 
 
 " He is not in Eome just now," said Lady Dorchester. " I met 
 him a few days ago, and he told me that he was on the point of 
 leaving for Nice. You know Prince Waldegrave is there at pres- 
 ent for his health." 
 
 "Yes. I saw his arrival there announced some time ago," said 
 Mrs. Falconer, with a quick glance toward Irene, who, she was 
 glad to perceive, was absorbed in the subject of Ninfa. 
 
 "He had just arrived when we were in Nice a month ago," 
 said Colonel Bevis. "I saw him driving once or twice, and 
 thought him looking very badly." 
 
 "People always look badly after severe illness," said Lady 
 Dorchester. " I hope he is not failing. Europe has not so many 
 statesmen that she can afford to lose one." 
 
 "Prince Waldegrave is more fortunate than most men, inas- 
 much as his mantle will fall on a worthy successor," said M. de 
 Chateaumesnil. "Count Waldegrave has already shown that he 
 possesses remarkable ability." 
 
 "He is very clever," said Lady Dorchester, "and has distin- 
 guished himself, I believe, in political affairs; but it remains to be 
 seen whether he will prove as great a man as his uncle." 
 
 " He will have to prove a greater, in order not to be over- 
 shadowed by his uncle's fame," said Stanhope. " That is the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 337 
 
 misfortune of inheriting a mantle people are always disposed to 
 aggrandize the dead at the expense of the living. My own ac- 
 quaintance with Count Waldegrave is very slight," he added, after 
 a moment, " but I should say that he differs in one important re- 
 spect from his uncle. He has a conscience." 
 
 " And will that difference make him a greater man ? " asked 
 Lady Dorchester. 
 
 "It will make him essentially a greater man, but it may make 
 him a less successful one. Prince Waldegrave has allowed no 
 obstacle to stand in his path. He has seen his end clearly, and 
 walked to it with that hard determination which is not trammeled 
 by any considerations of right or wrong." 
 
 "You are very severe," said Colonel Bevis. 
 
 "I am perfectly just," answered Stanhope, "as any one who 
 is familiar with his history is aware/' 
 
 "Oh, for that matter," said Lady Dorchester, "there is the 
 least possible amount of true greatness in the world. What we 
 have to put up with is mostly a counterfeit not greatness but 
 success." 
 
 " A distinction well made," said the Marquis, " but a distinc- 
 tion which unfortunately does not exist for the majority of peo- 
 ple. To them a man who has succeeded a man who has put his 
 foot on the necks of his fellow-beings, howsoever the feat was 
 accomplished is one who has achieved greatness. Let him have 
 been guilty of what falsity, what cruelty, what injustice he will, 
 there are thousands ready to do him honor." 
 
 "And to envy and imitate him," said Mrs. Falconer. "The 
 effect of example is to me one of the most terrible things in life." 
 
 " It is one of the most pervading," said Stanhope. " No one 
 can possibly tell how far it extends. One man's life or one man's 
 thought influencing in turn a multitude of others may go down 
 through ages, gathering its tremendous harvest of good or evil." 
 
 " It ought to make one tremble," said Lady Dorchester ; "only 
 we have got past trembling at anything." 
 
 " And our standard of good or evil, as far as one can make 
 out, is simply success or failure," said Colonel Bevis. 
 
 " True," said Stanhope. " It is an absolutely brutal standard ; 
 but no other appears to have weight or meaning to the modern 
 15
 
 338 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 mind. For example, we are told repeatedly told until our ears 
 are weary with the sound that prosperity is the standard by 
 which we are to measure the worth of a nation. Let a country 
 abound with material wealth, let the earth tremble under the 
 sound of its manufactures, and the sea be white with its ships, let 
 it build great cities and impose its rule on reluctant myriads, and 
 whatever virtues have perished in the consuming flame of that 
 love of riches, which we are emphatically told in an antiquated 
 volume is 'the root of all evil,' there is no p^an too lofty to be 
 sung in its praise. But take another country, where there is no 
 such triumphant prosperity, but where the people are brave, hon- 
 est, virtuous, and, above all, contented let it be anathema ! What, 
 no factories, no mines, no ships, no gamblers on a stock-exchange, 
 no extremes of immense wealth and poverty such as cries to Heaven 
 for vengeance really, it is doubtful if such a country can be said 
 to be civilized ! " 
 
 " But," said Colonel Bevis, "you surely do not think it neces- 
 sarily follows that the virtues of which you speak must perish in 
 the midst of material prosperity ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," answered Stanhope, unhesitatingly. " In the 
 race for wealth, which soon becomes the controlling passion of 
 such a nation, there is no place for them. It is the most debasing 
 of all the ideals that have ever been set before mankind." 
 
 "And it is that," said the Marquis, " which is the foundation 
 of the movement that is threatening Europe with social and polit- 
 ical anarchy to-day. "When you put material prosperity before 
 men as the only end of human effort when you say to them, 
 4 You are of worth only as you possess the goods of the world ' 
 and when you add that there is no God to fear and no heaven to 
 compensate for the injustices of time, what can be expected save 
 that which is sounding in our ears the mad cry of socialistic re- 
 volt? For the revolution, as we know it, is simply Materialism 
 carried to its logical conclusion. If the only facts in the world 
 are the properties and products of matter, and if the only test of 
 right and wrong is the will of a majority, what answer can be 
 made to the movement which displays itself as Communism, as 
 Socialism, or even as Nihilism? What can be expected of men 
 who have for their evangel the Bill of Eights of the French Revo-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 339 
 
 Intion, and for their war-cry ' Ni Dieu, ni maitre ! ' bat the nega- 
 tion of every bond which holds society together and makes gov- 
 ernment possible?" .. 
 
 " It is a terrible outlook," said Colonel Bevis. " But I think 
 there is some protection in the common sense of human nature." 
 
 " Did the common sense of human nature save France from 
 the Eeign of Terror ? " asked the Marquis. " Common sense is 
 like straw before the flame of human passion. I do not say that 
 such a gigantic tyranny as the socialists will inaugurate when they 
 get the upper hand can last, but it will certainly be tried. What 
 else is going on in France now ? Every step is toward concen- 
 trating all power in the state which is the ideal of Communism. 
 They have struck at the rights of paternity in making education 
 public and compulsory; they will strike next at- the rights of 
 property. ' La, propriete <?est le vol!' 1 is one of the first articles 
 of their creed. No man is to be allowed to accumulate or to in- 
 herit. The state is to be tbe sole inheritor. In that way they 
 mean to secure the visionary equality which has never been, and 
 can never be, realized." 
 
 "A more monstrous idea was never conceived," said Colonel 
 Bevis. " Its palpable injustice lies in the fact that it would drag 
 the industrious down to the level of the thriftless, and that, in- 
 stead of elevating human nature, it would degrade it to absolute 
 savagery." 
 
 " That is plain to you and to me, 1 ' said the Marquis, " but it 
 contains no argument for the multitude whose will, according to 
 the revolutionary creed, is the last reason of power. ' Since we 
 can not rise to your level, you shall come down to ours ! ' they 
 cry, in rage against all wealth, all prosperity, all distinction of 
 rank. And what appeal have you ? That was a wise saying of a 
 great ruler, ' You can not govern a people who have forgotten the 
 life eternal.' Eliminate the idea of God as modern thought has 
 eliminated it and the source of all justice, the sanction of all 
 moral law, is gone. Nothing on earth can stand without a basis, 
 and, when there is no basis of acknowledged right, when the un- 
 derlying principle of civil power is simply brute force, as repre- 
 sented in the will of a dominant multitude, political tyranny and 
 social chaos must inevitably follow."
 
 340 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " The tyranny, undoubtedly," said Lady Dorchester. " I saw, 
 by-the-by, a capital jeu d'esprit in one of the Paris papers the 
 other day a discussion between two politicians. Said Number 
 One, ' So you are still fixed in your aspirations toward republican- 
 ism?' Answered Number Two : 'That I am. I stand for com- 
 pulsory education, the obligatory ballot in short, for the regime 
 of complete and absolute liberty ! ' " 
 
 After the general laugh which followed this, Mrs. Falconer 
 said, " Now, in order to give a more cheerful turn to our thoughts, 
 we will have some tea, and make Irene sing for us." 
 
 Irene was very willing to sing, but that the drawings she had 
 been looking at were still in her mind was evident, for, as she 
 went to the piano, she asked the Marquis, who accompanied her, 
 if he had ever been to Ninfa. 
 
 " I am fascinated, possessed by the thought of it," she said. 
 " I should like to go there to-morrow." 
 
 " And why should you not, if you wish to do so ? " he asked, 
 having the vaguest possible idea of where Ninfa might be. 
 
 " Oh, I fancy it is some distance away, though I do not know 
 exactly how far," she answered ; " and of course I was only jest- 
 ing when I spoke of to-morrow. I would not, on any account, 
 leave Kome this week. But, do you not think you would like to 
 see a town of the middle ages, covered with ivy and inhabited 
 only by flowers ? Mr. Neville says that it is the most fairy-like 
 place he has ever seen or conceived." 
 
 " I should like it very much," answered the Marquis, to whom 
 her enthusiasm was always charming. " How is it reached, and 
 when shall we go ? " 
 
 "I do not know how it is reached or when we shall go," she 
 answered, smiling ; " but I wanted to be sure that, when I propose 
 it as an objective point for an excursion, you will be on my side." 
 
 "And are you not sure of that? " he asked, smiling also. "Am 
 I not always on your side ? I should be on your side, whatever 
 you proposed." 
 
 She was so accustomed to his kind words and admiring regard 
 that neither his tone nor the glance which accompanied it sur- 
 prised her. But Mrs. Falconer, who at the moment chanced to 
 look toward them, was struck by the expression of the last. There
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 341 
 
 was in it a caressing warmth a glow of feeling real and deep 
 which startled her. She had often before seen the Marquis look 
 at Irene with admiration, and thought no more of it than that 
 every one must admire such a beautiful and noble creature ; but 
 now she felt that there was more than admiration in this glance. 
 Not even when he had asked her to bear his name and share his 
 life had there been any such look in his eyes for her. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Stanhope, seeing the change 
 that came over her face. 
 
 There was a moment's pause before she answered. Then she 
 turned to him with a slight smile. 
 
 " Nothing," she said. " It might have been something some- 
 thing very serious but it is nothing." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE band was playing on the Pincio, the air was filled with 
 the fragrance of flowering trees and shrubs, the atmosphere 
 seemed dissolving into gold as the sun sank toward the west, the 
 revolving procession of equipages was like a kaleidoscope in the 
 contrasts and alternations of toilet which it displayed for Eas- 
 ter was just passed and Rome had not yet thinned in the least 
 the Piazzale was full of the murmur of voices, and from the great 
 terrace the city seemed swimming in radiant mist, out of which 
 its cupolas, towers, and campanili rose. 
 
 " After all, this is better than the Promenade des Anglais," said 
 the younger of two ladies, whose carriage drew up where they 
 could survey the whole wide scene of glorified city and sunset 
 sky, the great dome of St. Peter's and the pines of Monte Mario. 
 But it was not on this noble panorama that the gaze of either ot 
 them rested. Their glances were for the crowd for the carriages 
 in which ladies in beautiful toilets leaned back with an air of 
 graceful languor, and for the cavaliers of various nationalities who 
 with uncovered heads stood by them to exchange a few remarks 
 or utter a few compliments. " It might have been better if we 
 had come here earlier," the young lady proceeded. " Nice is very
 
 342 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 gay, but unless one is careful it is easy to be drawn into doubtful 
 associations. There would be more to gain by being well launched 
 here. I wish I had known " 
 
 She paused, and her companion a richly dressed woman of 
 that age which the French call uncertain, and of whom it was 
 also uncertain how much of her was natural and how much artifi- 
 cial, for she was plainly indebted to art for her figure, her com- 
 plexion, her hair, and her eyebrows observed that she had 
 always found Eome dull. 
 
 u All places are dull when you don't know people that is, 
 the right kind of people," answered the first speaker, who was 
 none other than Miss Dysart. " But I have so many English ac- 
 quaintances of rank that I could soon have made my place good 
 in Anglo-Roman society." 
 
 " Then why did you not propose that we should come ? " asked 
 the other, a little sharply. 
 
 Miss Dysart shrugged her shoulders. " We were very well 
 satisfied at Nice," she said. 
 
 " And we should have been satisfied still, if you had not met 
 Count Waldegrave," said her companion. 
 
 " I think you liked him as well as I did, my dear Baroness," 
 observed Miss Dysart, serenely ; " and thought him as well worth 
 cultivating. But, whether he will be likely to notice us in Eome 
 because we met him once or twice in Nice, is a matter of doubt. 
 I am sure, from what I have heard of him, that he will not step 
 out of his way to do so. But if one meets him in the society 
 where he moves that will be another thing." 
 
 " Ah, but that is the very highest, of course," said the Baron- 
 ess. " How do you propose to enter it? " 
 
 " As I have entered many others," was the reply. " "What 
 does one need > a little patience, a great deal of tact, and the 
 knowledge how to use every advantage. Those three things 
 have given me my success, and you will admit that it has been 
 great." 
 
 " But you have not yet accomplished your end you have not 
 yet married a man of rank," said the Baroness, a little maliciously. 
 It is quite possible that she wished her young friend to under- 
 stand that being patronized by princesses, and presented at court
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 343 
 
 by countesses, and flirted with by Lords Blank, were, after all, 
 very empty distinctions as compared with being the wife of a Ger- 
 man baron, however objectionable and impossible to live with 
 that baron might be. 
 
 "Not yet," said Miss Dysart, calmly ; "but, of course, I could 
 long ago have married a title, if I had cared merely for that. 
 Vauriens, with nothing else to offer, abound in Europe, as we 
 know well." 
 
 How the Baroness would have replied to this barbed arrow is 
 doubtful; but, fortunately, these amenities were interrupted by 
 the approach of Lionel Erne, who, from where he stood leaning 
 against a tree near the music, had been observing the occupants 
 of the carriage for some time with an air of amusement. Now he 
 advanced to its side. 
 
 " I am delighted to have the pleasure of welcoming you to 
 Borne, Miss Dysart," he said. 
 
 Violet started at the sound of the familiar voice, and turned 
 with a radiant smile. 
 
 " So it is you ! " she cried. " How charmed I am to find you 
 here! You see I have proved that 'all roads lead to Borne.' 
 Nice is growing dull and quite warm. Even Monte Carlo began 
 to lose its attractions especially since you did not come to help 
 me break the bank! " 
 
 " I had no idea that you were expecting me to assist in that 
 very laudable undertaking," he replied, with a laugh. 
 
 " I told you when we parted in Paris that I should expect 
 you," she said. " The time has been when you would have re- 
 membered such an intimation ; mais nous avons change tout cela ! 
 But I believe you do not know the Baroness Bodensteiu. Bar- 
 oness, let me introduce Mr. Erne." 
 
 The Baroness acknowledged the introduction very graciously. 
 She was an American, who at a period of exceedingly mature 
 maidenhood had inherited a fortune, come abroad, and captured, 
 or, more properly speaking, been captured by, Baron Bodenstein 
 at a German spa. Erne's name was familiar to her, and had a 
 golden association which made her bestow her best smile on the 
 handsome young fellow. But she was not allowed opportunity 
 for more than this, since Violet went eagerly on :
 
 3i4 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "You are not looking well are you aware of that? Koman 
 air can not agree with you. Now, if you had come to Nice and 
 gone yachting with me in Lord Blank's charming Siren, you would 
 look very differently." 
 
 " It is quite possible that under such circumstances I might 
 have listened to the song of another siren, and my last state have 
 been worse than my first," he replied. " But did Lord Blank put 
 his yacht at your disposal ? " 
 
 "It amounted to that," she said "did it not, Baroness? " 
 
 " Decidedly," answered the Baroness, who, in the alliance offen- 
 sive and defensive into which she had entered with Miss Dysart, 
 never failed to sound that young lady's trumpet as loudly as desired. 
 " Lord Blank appeared to think that bis yacht simply existed for 
 your service until he went to Sicily." 
 
 " Ah, one grows tired even of a yacht after a while," said Miss 
 Dysart, with an air which intimated that she was to be held account- 
 able for Lord Blank's departure to Sicily. " But we will not talk 
 of Nice that is over and done with ! I want to talk of Rome 
 to hear everything about everybody. You have been here all 
 winter, Mr. Erne you must know all the social gossip. Now tell 
 it all to me. To begin with, who is that beautiful woman in an 
 exquisite toilet, whose carriage has just drawn tip? " 
 
 Erne replied that the person spoken of was the Duchessa , 
 
 one of the greatest ladies in Eome. " But you will hear no gossip 
 about her," he added. " She is like untouched snow as pure as 
 she is stately." 
 
 " Then tell me about some one less perfect and more interest- 
 ing," said Miss Dysart. 
 
 Erne laughed and obeyed recounting many histories more or 
 less edifying of the crowd which defiled in the golden sunshine. 
 But presently a carriage drove up from the Piazza del Popolo and 
 stopped not very far from them, which at once engaged Miss Dy- 
 sart's liveliest attention. 
 
 " So there is Mrs. Falconer! " she said. " How very well she 
 is looking! But who is the young lady with her? " 
 
 "That," answered Erne, "is Miss Lescar." 
 
 " Miss Lescar ! " repeated Violet. Her eyes gave a great flash 
 of interest. "Is that the girl of whom I heard in Paris whom
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 345 
 
 Mr. Stanhope was interested in, and Mrs. Falconer was to take 
 charge of Madame Lescar's daughter ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Erne, with a manner which in its very quiet- 
 ness was full of warning, "that is Madame Lescar's daughter 
 and I am sure you do not need to be reminded that Madame 
 Lescar was one of the noblest as well as one of the most unfortu- 
 nate of women." 
 
 " Oh, every one knows that," was the indifferent reply. " We 
 are not talking of Madame Lescar, but of her daughter. She has 
 a beautiful face and a very distinguished air. It is almost a pity 
 under the circumstances that she should be so striking. It must 
 have required a great deal of social courage in Mrs. Falconer to 
 take up a girl with such a story and such an appearance." 
 
 "What are you talking about, my dear Violet? " inquired the 
 Baroness, who was by this time as curious as Erne was indignant. 
 
 "Neither Mrs. Falconer nor her friends thought that her con- 
 duct required any social courage," he said, haughtily. " No shadow 
 of the wrong done Madame Lescar rested on herself or her daugh- 
 ter. It all fell on the author of the wrong." 
 
 " Yes, I believe that was what people thought in America," 
 said Miss Dysart. " In Europe, however, the matter would prob- 
 ably be regarded differently. But your position is very chival- 
 rous, and it helps me to understand various things why you 
 found no attraction at Nice, for example." 
 
 She gave him a glance in which the diablerie was tinctured 
 unmistakably with malice for there is nothing which a woman 
 of this order resents so deeply as desertion from her standard. 
 A man may do what he will, may be what he will, so long as he 
 pays her vanity the tribute of superficial homage ; but when be 
 withdraws or transfers that homage, he may be sure of evoking 
 one keen sentiment at least that of enmity. 
 
 " But you have not yet told me what you are talking about ! " 
 said the Baroness, whose curiosity was given a sharper edge by 
 the beauty of the person under discussion. 
 
 To this appeal, however, Miss Dysart had at that time no ear 
 to lend. She saw a gentleman approach Mrs. Falconer's carriage 
 and stand speaking to its occupants. For a moment she gazed in 
 speechless astonishment. Then she turned to Lionel Erne.
 
 346 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Do you see ? " she said. " It is Count Waldegrave ! " 
 
 " What then ? " he asked, quietly. " Is there any reason why 
 Count "Waldegrave should not be one of Mrs. Falconer's acquaint- 
 ances ? " 
 
 Miss Dysart paused a moment before answering. She felt 
 from the tone of his voice that it was necessary to proceed cau- 
 _tiously. 
 
 " There is certainly no reason why he should not be one of 
 Mrs. Falconer's acquaintances," she said, then ; " but you must 
 admit that it is singular, to say the least, that he should be one 
 of Miss Lescar's. May I ask if he knows who she is ? " 
 
 Erne frowned. He thought the question altogether imper- 
 tinent. 
 
 " I have never inquired," he answered. " But I do not im- 
 agine that any one has interfered in the matter sufficiently to 
 inform him. He has simply met Miss Lescar as he might meet 
 any other young lady in society." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Miss Dysart. Then she turned to her companion. 
 " If you wish, we will drive now," she said. " Mr. Erne, we are 
 at the H6tel Costanzi, where I hope we may count upon seeing 
 you." 
 
 Erne replied that he would certainly do himself the honor of 
 calling. After which he stepped back and the carriage drove on. 
 
 He stood quite still, looking after it for a minute before cross- 
 ing the terrace to where Mrs. Falconer's carriage was drawn up. 
 As he approached, Count Waldegrave, with a slight salutation to 
 him, moved away. 
 
 "Ah, Lionel," said Mrs. Falconer, "am I to congratulate or 
 to condole with you? I see that Violet Dysart is in Borne." 
 
 " So far as I am personally concerned," he replied, "nothing 
 could be a matter of greater indifference to me than Mrs. Dysart's 
 arrival. But for other reasons, I am sorry that she has come." 
 
 " That sounds mysterious," said Mrs. Falconer, smiling. But 
 as she glanced at him the gravity of his face struck her, and she 
 said no more. It was Irene who asked carelessly : 
 
 " And who is Miss Dysart ? " 
 
 " Since Lionel expresses such indifference toward her, I sup- 
 pose I may answer frankly," said Mrs. Falconer. " She is an ex-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 347 
 
 ceedingly pretty American girl well, something more than a girl 
 now, though she still looks very young of good birth and mod- 
 erate fortune, who unfortunately conceived the desire to make a 
 social success in Europe. In. a certain way she has achieved it. 
 By dint of excessive tuft-hunting she has made her way into some 
 very high circles, cultivated a great many distinguished acquaint- 
 ances, and been written up in those odious publications called 
 1 society papers ' to a great extent. But under this apparent tri- 
 umph there lies a real disappointment, for she has set her heart 
 on marrying rank, and that is not easy unless one possesses a 
 million or two," said the speaker sarcastically, " when it becomes 
 the easiest thing in the world. Lacking the millions, poor Violet 
 has been trifled with shamefully two or three times ; but she goes 
 on dauntlessly in her quest, making herself notorious all over Eu- 
 rope, and wasting her youth in the most pitiable manner." 
 
 " Pitiable ! It is incredible," said Irene, " that a woman can 
 degrade herself so ! " 
 
 " She does not think of it as degradation," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 " It is to her a high and noble ambition." 
 
 " High, certainly," said Erne. " As for its nobleness well, I 
 don't think Miss Dysart troubles her head much about that." He 
 paused a moment, then, looking at his cousin, added significantly, 
 " She is just from Nice, and seems to know Count Waldegrave. 
 She was very much interested to observe him at your car- 
 riage." 
 
 " "Was she ? " said Mrs. Falconer, carelessly. " It is a pity 
 that her interest could not have been gratified by overhearing 
 our conversation, which consisted of little besides an exchange of 
 salutations. But pray get in, Lionel, and come home with us. 
 We have already taken our drive in the Borghese Garden, and 
 only came here for a glimpse of the crowd which /like ; and a 
 glimpse of the sunset which Irene likes." 
 
 Erne willingly obeyed. He stepped into the carriage and they 
 drove from the Pincio. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer was right in saying that their conversation with 
 Count Waldegrave had been little besides an exchange of salu- 
 tations ; but there may be a difference even in the manner of 
 saying good-day. What would decidedly have interested Miss
 
 348 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Dysart was the spirit which, on Count "Waldegrave's part at least, 
 animated the salutations. 
 
 It was a spirit which surprised himself. "When he went to 
 the Pincio that afternoon it was with only one thought should 
 he see the face which during his absence had never ceased to 
 haunt him, and which had shone before him like a star in the 
 return to Rome ? Should he hear the proud, sweet voice, with 
 its undertone of pathos, which when he heard it last had said : 
 " We can never be friends reasons of which you know nothing 
 forbid it but the landscape may smile for you as for others. 
 There is no harm in that " ? 
 
 It had seemed to him at the time a singular speech, and, the 
 more he reflected upon it, the more singular it appeared. Indeed, 
 Irene's manner toward him had from the first suggested a mystery 
 which he was quite unable to solve. It was a distinctly personal 
 aversion which he read more than once in the brilliant eyes that 
 were kind and friendly to every one but himself. There had been 
 times, it was true, when they had changed, and, as they looked 
 at him full of the fire of a high thought or the softness of a sad 
 one, he thought that he was to be included in the friendliness. 
 Bat the aversion had always returned the glance grown cold, 
 the face haughty. It was something not to be calculated upon 
 that face. He found himself wondering with what look it would 
 greet him this afternoon. 
 
 It was not an ungracious one, for Irene had not forgotten her 
 promise. Nor did it cost her an effort to fulfill it. Unconsciously 
 to herself, something in the character of this man was beginning 
 to tell upon her. In proportion as she knew him she found the 
 individual taking the place of the abstract representative of wrong 
 which he had at first appeared to her. And in the individual 
 there was much that was sympathetic with her own nature the 
 nature which in many of its sterner traits was inherited from the 
 same source as his own. 
 
 She was not aware of the reason of his absence for no one 
 had mentioned Prince "Waldegrave's name in her presence so, 
 when he observed that he had been out of Rome for ten days, she 
 said: 
 
 " Then you have missed a great deal. It seemed as if Heaven
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 349 
 
 and earth could not smile too beautifully on the Paschal sea- 
 son." 
 
 "They smiled very beautifully where I have been," he an- 
 swered. "Of course, you know Nice-sur-Mer ? It is a para- 
 dise of loveliness just now." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know it," she replied. "It is like a dream the 
 blue sea, the enchanting heights, the wealth of flowers. Yet the 
 thought of that glittering loveliness has no attraction for me I 
 suppose because I am so steeped in the influence of Eome. "Were 
 you not glad to come back to the solemn, tawny walls, to the 
 Campagna and the broken aqueducts, even from that paradise by 
 
 He smiled. There was something pleasant to him in the frank 
 question and the clear light in her eyes. They were not unfriendly 
 eyes just now, he thought. 
 
 " Yes," he answered. "I was lam glad to return. Eome 
 draws one with a powerful attraction. And, after all, the beauty 
 of the Kiviera chiefly appeals to the pleasure-loving side of one's 
 nature ; while this " he looked over the great view spread before 
 them, the many-towered city, the vast rounded outline of St. Pe- 
 ter's dome, the sky of splendid gold, the wide plain steeped in 
 harmonious color "is not only noble in itself, but suggestive of 
 all noble things." 
 
 "Like the very name of Eome," said Irene. "The proud, 
 sonorous accent with which the people say ' Eoma ' seems to ex- 
 press everything that is lofty." 
 
 "There is much in the ear of the listener," said Count "Walde- 
 grave, with a smile. " It expresses lofty thoughts to you. There 
 are others to whom it expresses as little as well, as Eome itself 
 means to them." 
 
 "I suppose there are numbers of such people," said Irene. 
 "But what then? One need not think of them further than 
 to pity them for the narrow limitations in which they were in- 
 closed." 
 
 " They are sadly narrow," said Mrs. Falconer. " It is really 
 pitiable to observe what high walls of ignorance, prejudice, and 
 that absurd mixture of vanity and selfishness which leads the typ- 
 ical Englishman and American to conceive that whatever does
 
 350 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 not accord with his standard is, therefore, necessarily wrong, sur- 
 round most people." 
 
 " You think the spirit of which you speak the mixture of 
 vanity and selfishness is stronger in Englishmen and Americans 
 than in others ? " asked Waldegrave. 
 
 "According to my experience, undoubtedly," was the reply. 
 " There are no other people in the world who are so arrogantly 
 possessed with the idea of their own infallibility, with the desire 
 to measure everything in heaven or on earth by their own foot- 
 rule. Yet it is simply the provincial spirit on a large scale. Some 
 of them rise above it ; but, generally speaking, it requires wide 
 culture, and half a life-time of cosmopolitan experience, to enable 
 them to do so." 
 
 "And why is it that Englishmen and Americans are peculiarly 
 liable to this narrowness of vision ? " 
 
 "Ask Mr. Matthew Arnold," answered she, smiling. "It 
 arises in great measure, I think, from what he calls Philistinism, 
 and what M. de Chateaumesnil defines as materialism. They are 
 puffed up with the vanity of material prosperity, and the provin- 
 cial character of their surroundings has rendered them as ignorant 
 as they are vain." 
 
 " The terms are almost synonymous," said Waldegrave. 
 "Vanity means ignorance. The first thing which a man should 
 do who desires to rid himself of vanity is to go into the world 
 and measure himself with others." 
 
 " But few people care to be rid of such a comfortable thing," 
 said Mrs. Falconer. " 'Among the blind the one-eyed is king' 
 and the one-eyed is, therefore, not likely to seek voluntarily the 
 society of people with two eyes. Alas for poor human nature ! 
 the sense of inferiority generally makes us uncomfortable." 
 
 " I suppose that is true," said Irene, " but it strikes me as very 
 strange for what greater pleasure is there than heartily to feel 
 and acknowledge superiority, to realize that there are heights in 
 human nature above anything that we dreamed of, that there is 
 wisdom greater than our own and charity broader? " 
 
 " To realize high things, one must have something in one's self 
 which responds to them," said Waldegrave, wondering the while 
 what there was in this girl's voice which seemed to sink into his
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 351 
 
 heart, to touch the most exquisite fibers of his being. To be near 
 her was to feel all that was most poetic in him waked to life, to 
 have a sense that his nature answered to her touch like a violin 
 to the hand of a master. A sudden doubt assailed him as he real- 
 ized this. On what tide was he drifting ? What was to be the 
 end? He had never before yielded to any attraction or taken any 
 step without seeing clearly what the end was to be. Now he saw 
 no end. Apart from her proud, strange assurance that not even 
 friendship was possible between them, nothing was less possible 
 to him than to break through the sacred traditions of rank and 
 imperil the career which his ambition now saw clear before him 
 by marriage with a person of no rank. He did not for an instant 
 take such a step into consideration. Noblesse oblige to him meant 
 no mere form of words, but a real and stern obligation, which it 
 was not possible even to desire to throw aside. Nevertheless 
 this beautiful girl, with her exalted nature and her passionate 
 soul, had from the first interested nay, fascinated him. She had 
 never appeared to him as to the Marquis de Chateaumesnil a 
 creature far 
 
 "... too bright and good 
 For human nature's daily food." 
 
 On the contrary, he felt like one confronted with forbidden pos- 
 sibilities of delight. There came to him a conviction of what life 
 might be with a companion whose quick perceptions and ardent 
 sympathies would give existence a meaning unknown to duller 
 souls. It was the first time that his heart had ever stirred at any 
 woman's touch ; and, feeling his danger, he had resolution enough 
 to have forsworn its occasion had not those words at the Lateran 
 seemed to make caution unnecessary. 
 
 Meanwhile, it is not to be supposed that all of these thoughts 
 were occupying his mind at the present moment. There was but 
 a short pause after his last words before Mrs. Falconer said : 
 
 " And are you, M. le Comte, one of those whose interest in 
 Kome is restricted to the city itself, or do you extend it to the 
 surrounding country ? " 
 
 "I think I may describe myself as one of the latter class," he 
 answered, smiling. 
 
 " Then you will sympathize with Irene and myself in our de-
 
 352 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 sire to leave Rome for a time, and wander among the cities of the 
 Alban and Volscian Hills," she went on. 
 
 Waldegrave's face changed a little a fact perceptible to the 
 lady's keen glance. 
 
 "It is an attractive plan," he said; "but why is it necessary 
 to leave Rome? Most persons make Rome the center for all such 
 excursions." 
 
 " Ah, but we wish to go farther than most persons do, though 
 just at first we may make the ordinary excursions in the ordinary 
 way. A propos, Colonel Bevis has arranged a party for Tivoli, 
 which I think he intends to ask you to join but probably you 
 have already been there ? " 
 
 " I have been there once or twice, but it is a place one can 
 hardly see too often. I shall be happy to join the party." 
 
 And it was then that, seeing Erne approaching, he had bowed 
 and moved away. 
 
 The drive from the Pincio to Mrs. Falconer's portone was short, 
 and, when they ascended to her apartment, she entered the salon 
 with Erne, while Irene, saying that she would put off her wraps, 
 went on to her chamber. 
 
 "Now," said Mrs. Falconer, as soon as she found herself alone 
 with the young man, "tell me what Violet Dysart said about 
 Count Waldegrave. It was something impertinent, I am sure." 
 
 "She inquired if he knew who Miss Lescar is," Erne an- 
 swered. 
 
 " So she knows?" 
 
 " What is there belonging to social gossip which Violet Dysart 
 does not know ? It is her one branch of study, and she is entitled 
 to the rank of savante in it." 
 
 " Has she a personal acquaintance with Count "Waldegrave ? " 
 
 " I did not inquire but it is likely. As you observed in your 
 description of her, she has a great many distinguished acquaint- 
 ances, and it is probable that she met him in Nice." 
 
 " Then that settles the matter," said Mrs. Falconer, with en- 
 ergy. " He must hear without delay, from one who has a right to 
 tell him, who Irene is. If the disclosure is delayed longer, he will 
 hear it from Violet Dysart with her interpretation of our silence. 1 '
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 353 
 
 " I have always thought the silence ill-advised," said Erne. 
 
 "Both Mr. Stanhope and myself have thought the same," said 
 his cousin. " But you know or you do not know what Irene 
 is! She has a will against which it is difficult to stand. Lately, 
 however, Mr. Stanhope has determined to make the disclosure to 
 Count Waldegrave and had he not left Kome it would probably 
 have been made before this. Then I suggested our projected ex- 
 cursion to Tivoli as a good opportunity for it better than for- 
 mally seeking an interview ; since, after all, he may say, ' Of what 
 importance is it to me ? ' " 
 
 " I do not think he is in the least likely to ask of what impor- 
 tance it is to him," said Erne, gravely. " Unless I am much mis- 
 taken, he will think it of great importance." Then, after a pause, 
 he added : " What I do not understand is Tier position why she 
 should object to his knowing the truth what motive she has in 
 the concealment. To my mind it puts her in a false and unworthy 
 position." 
 
 "It does," said Mrs. Falconer, "and I blame myself very much 
 for it. I weakly yielded to her wishes on this point at first. As 
 for her motive I doubt if she has such a thing, beyond a pas- 
 sionate disinclination to his knowing the truth, the exact root of 
 which it is not easy to determine. But something unforeseen has 
 come to pass as a consequence," the speaker added, with a smile. 
 " Whether she knows it or not, she has begun to like him." 
 
 "To like him!" repeated Erne, in a tone of consternation. 
 "You do not mean " 
 
 "I mean no more than I say," answered his cousin. "But 
 that is remarkable enough." 
 
 "It is so remarkable," he said, after a minute, "that, if it is 
 true, nothing else could surprise me." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE morning on which the party for Tivoli set out was one 
 that promised a perfect day. Colonel Bevis had insisted on an 
 early start, and the aurora Angehis was ringing as they rode 
 through the quiet streets, where the shops were still closed, the
 
 354: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 windows of the houses still barred. All around them Koine lay 
 steeped in shadow, while overhead the multitudinous hells were 
 filling the cool, delicate air with sound, calling all Christian hearts 
 to praise God for the great mystery of the Incarnation : " The 
 angel of the Lord declared unto Mary ." The joyful notes wero 
 ringing it out over the still sleeping city, to the distant mount- 
 ains clad in amethyst and gold, to the sun as he rose in splen- 
 dor over their purple crests. And from every campanile clouds 
 of birds flew out, rustling and twittering, adding their sweet trib- 
 ute to the mighty note of praise, the early sunlight gilding their 
 flashing wings and pouring in golden flood through the arches of 
 the lofty towers from which they came. 
 
 But it was when the party passed out of the Porta San Lo- 
 renzo and saw around them the wide Campagna, before them a 
 vision of enchanted heights, and about them a great sense of pure, 
 delightful freshness, that they fully faced the morning. It was 
 like going into a new world one washed clean in God's bap- 
 tismal dew from every stain of sin and sorrow. It was hard to 
 tell where the earth ended and the sky began, for the vast plain, 
 blue and undulating as the sea, melted into the mists that were 
 rising from stream and marsh, and assuming a thousand beautiful 
 opal tints as they mounted upward ; while the mountain-range, 
 toward which the faces of the travelers were set, was like the 
 magical birth-place of day peaks of sapphire and amethyst swim- 
 ming in radiant haze and overarched by a sky out of which the 
 marvelous tints of dawn had not yet faded. 
 
 "It is like a great Laudate Dominum," said Irene. 
 
 M. de Chateaumesnil, who was riding by her side, thought that 
 the eyes which were glancing over the wide scene looked as clear 
 under their dark lashes as if they had been washed in dew. 
 
 "It is very beautiful," he said, " and repays one for the exer- 
 tion of early rising. .It is a pity that such lovely effects should 
 be so evanescent but one ought to be grateful for them never- 
 theless." 
 
 "I can imagine nothing better worth gratitude," she said. 
 "Look at those tints ! If one were to try to describe them now 
 at this moment one could not. There are no words for such 
 color. It is just pure gladness."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 355 
 
 " You make one realize what possibilities of gladness the sim- 
 ple things of life hold for yon," he said, with a slight strain of un- 
 conscious envy in his voice for what would not the man who 
 had so long regarded the world with tired eyes have given for 
 such freshness of emotion ? 
 
 She looked at him with surprise. " What you call the simple 
 things are after all the best blessings of life," she said. "And it 
 seems to me that there is enough here to fill to overflowing the 
 heart of a poet or a saint." 
 
 "But how if one has not the heart of either a poet or a 
 saint ? " 
 
 "Oh, one must do the best one can with the heart one has," 
 she said, with a smile. " I did not mean to imply that / had the 
 heart of either." 
 
 " I think you have the heart of the first," he said, quite seri- 
 ously, " and perhaps of the second also." 
 
 "You always say kind things to me," she answered, simply; 
 "but that is far, far too kind. Perhaps I feel things sometimes 
 as a poet might but there are no words to express how little I 
 feel them as a saint." Then she looked at the radiant hills which, 
 like heights of saintly perfection, are beautiful to look upon, but 
 hard to climb. " I knew what a saint was once," she said, as if 
 speaking to herself, " and I am as far from that as earth is far 
 from heaven." 
 
 lie did not answer for the shadow that crossed her face like 
 a cloud over a landscape, and the note of sadness which came into 
 her voice, told him that he had touched some painful chord, such 
 as he had long been aware existed in her experience. 
 
 Meanwhile the tints of mists and hills and distance were chang- 
 ing momently, and the sun was sending long level lines of gold over 
 the Campagna, while the air retained its delicious freshness, and 
 above the dewy sea of flowers which spread around them, innu- 
 merable birds were flitting, twittering and singing in every bird- 
 tone possible to imagine. This road to Tivoli the ancient Via 
 Tiburtina is one of the least interesting of the Campagna ways. 
 But no journey across this wonderful plain can be uninteresting 
 to those who appreciate the beauty of atmospheric effects, the 
 magic of sunlight and shadow, the violet loveliness of distant
 
 356 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 heights on which ancient towns, villages, and castles glitter like 
 points of light, and to whom the silence which broods over the 
 waste is more eloquent than a thousand voices. Most of the 
 party were on horseback, but there was a carriage containing Lady 
 Dorchester who at the eleventh hour decided to go and Mrs. 
 Falconer. The latter, however, was in her habit, for she intended 
 after a time to take Irene's horse, and let her enter the carriage, 
 knowing that the ride of eighteen miles would be too much for an 
 inexperienced horsewoman. But, guided by M. de Chateaumes- 
 nil's instruction, Irene was riding so well and enjoying it so much, 
 that the miles went by and Mrs. Falconer said nothing of a change 
 until Stanhope, who kept near the carriage, rode up and sug- 
 gested it. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer looked at him with a smile. " I am very com- 
 fortable," she said. " To drive along with this delightful air in 
 one's face is so pleasant that I have little inclination for a change 
 and Ir&ne is evidently not anxious for it." 
 
 " That is not saying that it would not be well for her," said 
 Stanhope, looking with a slight, unconscious frown at Irene and 
 the Marquis as they rode on in front. 
 
 "M. de Chateaumesnil will not allow her to fatigue herself, I 
 am sure," said Mrs. Falconer, observing his glance and the irrita- 
 tion which it expressed. 
 
 In the presence of Lady Dorchester it was impossible to say 
 more, even if Stanhope had been inclined to do so, and therefore 
 he rode forward, and, when another mile was passed, made his 
 suggestion to Irene. The Marquis at once demurred. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Lescar is not tired," he said. "She could not 
 look so bright or ride so well if she were." 
 
 " It would be better not to wait until she is tired," said Stan- 
 hope, decidedly. 
 
 Something in his tone made Irene aware that he wished her 
 to get into the carriage. She looked at the Marquis. 
 
 " Perhaps it would be better, as Mr. Stanhope says, not to wait 
 until I am tired," she remarked. "*And then, Mrs. Falconer may 
 wish to ride. I did not think of that before." 
 
 So the carriage was stopped and the exchange proposed. But 
 Mrs. Falconer shook her head.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 357 
 
 "I feel very indolent," she said. "This luxurious motion, 
 without any exertion, suits me exactly. And if you are not tired, 
 my dear, why should you dismount ? If you go all the way to 
 Tivoli it does not matter. Only, M. le Marquis, take care that she 
 does not fatigue herself too much to enjoy the day." 
 
 The Marquis replied that he would certainly take care of this ; 
 and, as the carriage drove on, Lady Dorchester looked at her com- 
 panion with a smile. 
 
 "Poor Mr. Stanhope must feel baffled," she said. "Why did 
 you not have more compassion on his desire to deposit Miss Lescar 
 safely here ? What is the reason of his uneasiness, hy-the-by ? Is 
 he afraid of the fascinations of the Marquis ? " 
 
 Mrs. Falconer replied evasively, for she was herself not quite 
 sure of the reason of Stanhope's evident wish to separate Irene 
 and the Marquis. No doubt he perceived what she had detected 
 some time before the interest of the Marquis in this girl, who 
 seemed formed by nature to interest every one bnt whether he 
 feared the effect on Irene, or was thinking of herself, she felt un- 
 able to decide. " If he is thinking of me, I must let him see that 
 his consideration is needless," she thought, with an emotion of 
 haughtiness. 
 
 Mrs. Bevis, meanwhile, who was an admirable horsewoman, 
 was gayly trotting along between her husband and Count Walde- 
 grave, and she also remarked presently that the Marquis seemed 
 to have taken entire charge of Miss Lescar's equestrian education. 
 " I thought she was your pupil, Henry ? " she said, with a glance 
 at Colonel Bevis. 
 
 " Oh, the Marquis is as good a rider as I am," replied that gen- 
 tleman ; " and I fancy his mode of teaching is better. At least, I 
 observe that Miss Lescar appears to get on better under his in- 
 struction." 
 
 " There might be reasons for that, apart from the superiority 
 of the instruction," said Mrs. Bevis, laughing. "M. de Chateau- 
 mesnil has charming manners. I wonder " She paused. 
 
 "Do you wonder how far charming manners will assist in giv- 
 ing a good seat and a good hand?" asked Waldegrave, with a 
 smile. 
 
 She shook her head. " No ; I do not wonder at all, for, ac-
 
 358 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 cording to my experience, charming manners are an assistance in 
 everything. And really " she turned and glanced back critically 
 at Irene " Miss Lescar is improving wonderfully." 
 
 " There is a talent for horsemanship as for everything else," 
 said Colonel Bevis. " Miss Lescar has the material for a first-rate 
 rider a fine light hand, great quickness in learning, and any 
 amount of pluck." 
 
 " If one may judge by her face, she is absolutely fearless," said 
 "Waldegravc. 
 
 " Is it not a noble, spirited head ? " said Mrs. Bevis. " I should 
 like to see it on a cameo. A propos, I hear that it has been beau- 
 tifully modeled by that young man whom we have met once or 
 twice at Mrs. Falconer's, Henry. Erie Erne is that his name ? " 
 
 "I was not aware that Mr. Erne was a sculptor," said Walde- 
 grave. 
 
 " Oh, after a fashion dilettante, so I am told. But Mr. Ffulkes, 
 who is an authority, speaks very highly of this head which he 
 says is as fine as the Pompeiian Sappho." 
 
 "The head, I presume not the work," said Colonel Bevis, 
 while "Waldegrave drew his brows closer together and looked 
 straight before him. He knew it was no affair of his if a dozen 
 sculptors modeled IrSne Lescar's head, yet he felt as if Erne had 
 been guilty of an unwarrantable impertinence, for which he de- 
 served summary rebuke. 
 
 They were now approaching the hills, and their surroundings 
 grew more interesting. They crossed the Ponte Lucano and 
 paused for a few minutes at the massive castellated tomb of the 
 Plautii, which, like the mausoleum of Hadrian, has changed its 
 character from a classic sepulchre to a mediaeval fortress. But 
 they did not pause at the Villa Adriana, which, since the destroy- 
 ing hand of Signer Kosa has fallen upon it, as upon the ruins of 
 Rome, has lost the beauty and grace of verdure with which Nature 
 adorned it during many successive centuries, and has become a 
 mere mass of bare stones, interesting only to the antiquary. 
 
 During their halt at the tomb, there was a slight change in the 
 order of the party, and, when they began the ascent of the mount- 
 ain by the beautiful winding road of Duke Braschi, Irene found 
 herself riding between the Marquis and Count Waldegrave. At
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 359 
 
 tMs time, however, she had little thought for anything save the 
 beauty around them, which now increased with every step. The 
 groves of grand old olive-trees through which they were passing 
 those groves of Tivoli that even from the walls of Rome can be 
 seen clothing the mountain-side were indescribably picturesque : 
 the great gnarled, twisted, caverned trunks, throwing out mighty 
 branches, clothed in the gray-green foliage, with its silver lining, 
 which seen once can never be forgotten. "It is well," says Rus- 
 kin, "to have seen and loved the olive-tree ; to have loved it for 
 Christ's sake, partly also for the helmed Wisdom's sake, which 
 was to the heathen in some sort as that nobler Wisdom which 
 stood at God's right hand when He founded the earth and estab- 
 lished the heavens ; to have loved it even to the hoary dimness of 
 its delicate foliage, subdued and faint of hue, as if the ashes of the 
 Gethsemane agony had been cast upon it for ever ; and to have 
 traced line by line the gnarled writhing of its intricate branches 
 and the pointed petals of its light and narrow leaves, inlaid on 
 the beautiful field of the sky, and the small rosy-white stars of 
 its spring blossoming, and the beads of sable fruit scattered by 
 autumn along its topmost bonghs the right, in Israel, of the 
 stranger, the fatherless, and the widow and, more than all, the 
 softness of the mantle, silver-gray and tender like the down on a 
 bird's breast, with which, far away, it veils the undulations of 
 the mountains." 
 
 As they mounted in gradual and easy ascent, each turn in the 
 road revealed a wider distance, a more striking picture. Near at 
 hand were steeps clothed in deep-green foliage, cliffs on which 
 convents and chapels hung, and masses of rock crowned with 
 flowers; but afar, boundless in appearance as the ocean, the vast 
 Campagna spread, while, lion-like, Soracte lifted itself out of the 
 azure plain, and the Sabine Hills bounded it with their beautiful 
 outlines. 
 
 " What glorious distances ! " said Irene, as they paused at one 
 of the many winding turns of the road to look over a world out- 
 spread like a scroll. "And what enchanting pictures on every 
 side ! Surely it was no wonder that Tivoli or Tibur, as it was 
 then should have been the great summer resort of noble Romans 
 in the days of the empire."
 
 360 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Or that it should have been beloved by the poets," said 
 Waldegrave. "Horace has sung the beauty of its thymy up- 
 lands, its luxuriant woods, and leaping waters, in imperishable 
 verse." 
 
 "And yet," said the Marquis, "as Ampere remarks, ' Malheu- 
 reusement il ne reste d? Horace d Tivoli que les cascatelles dont le 
 murmure semble un echo de sea vers. J " 
 
 " But I can not think it unfortunate that nothing else remains 
 of him," said Irene, as they rode on. " "What are the ruins of a 
 villa compared to poetry which seems to mingle itself for ever with 
 the voice of the waters that sounded in his ears ? " 
 
 "And therein lies the immortality of genius," said Walde- 
 grave. " To so paint in words the beauty of earth and sky that 
 henceforth all that come after shall see that beauty with the poet's 
 eyes, and so the image of his presence shall still move amid the 
 scenes he loved." 
 
 Irene looked at the speaker with a glance such as from the 
 first had passed between them a glance of that quick response 
 which makes the essence of sympathy. Once this response had 
 been reluctant but now it was not so ; partly because her feel- 
 ing toward Waldegrave had changed, and partly because she felt 
 as if all painful things were far from her in this glorious upper 
 world. Even to breathe the air was like drinking the wine of the 
 gods. She had a sense of delight in the wide, glorious prospect, 
 in the exquisite beauty of her immediate surroundings, and in the 
 thrilling associations of the spot, that was a veritable exaltation. 
 For it is in the nature of great scenes to waken noble feeling. One 
 is ashamed of anything petty in the face of a landscape which is 
 like an embodied thought of God. 
 
 But now they approached the gate of the town by the stately 
 five-towered castle of Pius II, and entering passed along a street 
 full of picturesque mediaeval houses, to the point of rock known 
 as Castro Vetere, the citadel of ancient Tibur, where stands the 
 beautiful temple of the Sibyl familiar, through pictures, to all 
 the world with the grace of its pure Greek architecture outlined 
 against the opposite heights of Monte Peschiavatore, and crowning 
 the verge of that deep chasm in the cleft mountain where the 
 Anio took its mighty leap, until diverted to another channel in
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 361 
 
 order to save the temple from being eventually carried away. 
 Farther beyond the headlong waters now pour 
 
 " In floods of snow-white foam," 
 
 filling all the air with tuneful thunder as they make their plunge 
 of more than three hundred feet into the green depths below. 
 
 Leaving the horses at an inn near by, the party followed the 
 beautiful walks which by gradual descent lead into the depths of 
 what Cardinal "Wiseman calls "Anio's urn" the abyss filled with 
 its resounding voice, damp with its constant spray, and rent and 
 riven into a thousand picturesque forms by its ceaseless waters. 
 It is an enchanted spot. For here, in the cool, shadowy dimness, 
 with the classic river foaming and roaring near by, it is impos- 
 sible not to dream of all beautiful creations of the classic fancy 
 and of the immortal figures of the classic time. Here Horace may 
 have wandered, murmuring to himself: 
 
 "Quara domus Albuneae resonantis, 
 Et prseceps Anio ac Tiburni lucus, et uda 
 Mobilibus pomaria rivis." 
 
 And here is a fit haunt for dryads and nymphs, for fauns and 
 satyrs. Far overhead the arch of an ancient bridge is seen through 
 the masses of foliage which hang from the cliffs, and higher still, 
 clear-cut against a sky of Italy's own blue that blue which the 
 great painters borrowed for the mantle of the Mother of God 
 stands in bold relief the exquisite temple of the Sibyl on its rocky 
 throne. 
 
 "What taste they had, those wonderful ancients! " said Stan- 
 hope, as they stood gazing at this beautiful picture. "Nothing 
 can be conceived more sublime than the situation of that temple 
 it is ' art crowning nature in perfect harmony of beauties.' " 
 
 "It is almost too picturesque to be quite natural," said Lady 
 Dorchester. " I feel as if I were looking at a painter's dream." 
 
 "How significant that feeling is of the manner in which our 
 modern appreciation is trained ! " said Mrs. Falconer. " A perfect 
 harmony of art and nature is to us so strange that it seems un- 
 real. But to the eyes of the ancients such harmony was as fa- 
 16
 
 362 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 miliar as possible ; and the grace of a beautiful temple crowning 
 a height like that, no more remarkable than the hideous erections 
 of the nineteenth century are to our sight." 
 
 " Happy ancients ! " said Irene, with a soft sigh. 
 
 " They were certainly happy in their opportunities of culture," 
 said Waldegrave. "Think of a poet living in this enchanting 
 spot, while yonder lay imperial Rome with all her splendor the 
 center of the world in a sense never known before or since." 
 
 " But they were pagans, you know," said Mrs. Bevis, in the 
 tone of stating an undeniable drawback. 
 
 " Pagans, yes," said M. de Chateaumesnil. " But, as pagans, 
 more faithful to their idea of religion than is the modern world to 
 the light of faith. We are fast lapsing back into essential pagan- 
 ism, without the good which leavened it, or the grace and beauty 
 which adorned it." 
 
 " It will certainly be long hefore we erect such a temple as 
 that to any of our idols," said Stanhope, smiling. 
 
 Presently, having viewed the cascades and explored the grot- 
 toes, they ascended again to the upper world, and, after a short 
 interval for rest, started on the walk to the Quintiliolo. This road 
 one of the most charming features of Tivoli winds along the 
 side of the hill, amid a succession of constantly changing and ever 
 lovely scenes, and, as it passes around the valley, commands a 
 perfect view of the picturesque town, with its temples, ruins, and 
 churches crowning the bold crest of the opposite height, of the 
 splendid verdure-clad cliffs, of the Anio pouring its waters in foam- 
 ing flood into the deep, green chasm, and of the amethystine dis- 
 tances of the Campagna a vast world where form is lost and only 
 color remains spreading in misty beauty to the remote horizon, 
 where the tints of earth and sky blend, and where one glittering 
 point alone breaks the level line a solemn dome which tells 
 where Rome lies hidden on the wide expanse. 
 
 "Lady Dorchester is right it is almost too lovely for reality," 
 said Irne to her companion, as they paused again and yet again 
 by the stone parapet which bounds the road, to look at some scene 
 more enchanting than the last. " It is like a picture yet how 
 poor all pictures seem beside the work of Nature ! " 
 
 Her companion, who was Count Waldegrave, for a moment
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 363 
 
 did not answer. They were in the rear of the party ; the others 
 had passed on, while they lingered, gazing down at the slopes of 
 the mountain covered with olives, at the thickets of myrtle and 
 jasmine, the banks of wild hyacinths and tufts of rosemary, at 
 the waters of the Cascatelle, foaming, dancing, sparkling through 
 a wealth of green verdure, at great gnarled trees carpeted around 
 their roots with violets and anemones, at glimpses of the parapeted 
 road winding along the hill-side, at wayside fountains where peas- 
 ant-women stooped to fill the hrazen water- jars which they poised 
 with antique grace on their handsome heads, and at a vision of 
 ultramarine cliffs and magic plain far, far heyond, while over all 
 arched a dazzling sky, and the air was such as might blow upon 
 the battlements of paradise. 
 
 " It is not the first beautiful scene on which we have looked 
 together," Waldegrave said, at last; "and in such a scene your 
 presence seems a natural and fitting element. It has been so to 
 me ever since I saw you first, gazing out over the Campagna from 
 the terrace of the Villa Mattei." 
 
 His voice was quiet in the extreme, but underneath its quiet- 
 ness was a tone that startled her. Involuntarily she turned and 
 looked at him ; but he was not looking at her. He was gazing 
 afar toward Rome, as, on the day he spoke of, she had gazed toward 
 the hills where they now stood together. 
 
 " You would be surprised, perhaps, to know how much your 
 face revealed to me that day," he went on still looking across 
 the plain as if he saw the ilex opening and St. Philip's seat. 
 "After all, it is true 'we only know those perfectly whom we 
 recognize at first sight.' " 
 
 "And do you think that you recognized me, that you know 
 me perfectly ? " she asked. " If you do think so, I can only say 
 that no man was ever more mistaken." 
 
 He looked at her now meeting the sudden light that had 
 come into her eyes with the clear penetration of his glance. 
 
 "Do I think that I recognized you then, that I know you 
 now ? " he repeated. " Yes as far as the real you is concerned. 
 By that I mean your mind, your nature, your soul. I do not pre- 
 tend to know anything of the circumstances of your life, or to 
 fathom the mystery which from the first has made you turn to me
 
 364 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 a different face from the face which you show to all the rest of 
 the world." 
 
 She turned that face quickly away from him. " Why do you 
 speak of that here ? " she asked, in a troubled voice. " I had, for 
 the time, almost forgotten." 
 
 " But only for the time," he said. " You would have remem- 
 bered the shadow would have come into your eyes again, even 
 if I had not recalled it. They have been like crystal water to- 
 day. One could look into their depths, and find there only kind 
 and gentle thoughts. But now look at me now, and let me see 
 what I can read ! " 
 
 Bis tone was more of an appeal than a challenge ; but to her 
 it was like the last, and she turned her glance to his again, com- 
 pelling herself to keep it steady for a minute. 
 
 " Yes," he said, speaking as if to himself, " it has come back. 
 But, for the first time, I see something besides the shadow of de- 
 fiance and dislike : I see that you are steeling yourself with an 
 effort." 
 
 " Against you, perhaps I am," she said, in a low tone. " For 
 you have done me no harm. I am just enough to acknowledge 
 that. But against what you represent to me it will never re- 
 quire an effort, Count Waldegrave, to steel myself against that ! " 
 
 There was no effort certainly in the fire which came into her 
 eyes at those words. And, as he looked at her, he did not pause 
 to ask himself what end it would serve to pluck the heart out 
 of this mystery. lie only felt that he must do so. 
 
 Yet there was no trace of eagerness in his face or manner. 
 Still standing motionless by the parapet, and regarding her with 
 the same clear glance, he said : " And what do I represent ? The 
 time has come for me to ask and for you in justice to an- 
 swer." 
 
 "And why should I answer? " she returned, proudly. "What 
 am I to yon, that you should concern yourself with the kind of 
 sentiment I feel toward you or the cause of that sentiment? 
 The east and the west are not farther apart than your life and 
 mine have been in the past and will be in the future. It is a 
 mere freak of Fate that has brought us together for a little while. 
 I told you once before that we could never be friends, but that I
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 365 
 
 was content to treat you as I would any other indifferent stranger. 
 Have I not kept my word ? " 
 
 "Yes," he answered; "but I am not content with that. I 
 wish to know I will know why to me, of all men, the possibil- 
 ity of your friendship is denied ! " 
 
 The imperiousness of his tone was involuntary, was simply 
 the form that strong feeling took. But it struck on Irene's mood 
 like flint on steel, bringing out the spark of anger. 
 
 "You will never know from me," she answered, haughtily, 
 " though, no doubt, there are others who will tell you if you 
 choose to seek knowledge from them." 
 
 There was a pause. They looked at each other steadily for a 
 moment, and what each read in the other, besides a strife of will 
 and pride, it is difficult to say. Irne felt as if she could not 
 withdraw her gaze from that which held it and seemed searching 
 the depths of her soul. She had no idea of the measure of time, 
 before Waldegrave said : 
 
 " I will not seek to learn anything which you do not choose 
 to tell me. If you knew me better, I should not need to say 
 this." 
 
 Then, as she looked away from him again, something like a 
 rush of feeling was it relief or pain? made the fair prospect 
 swim for a moment before her eyes. It was at this moment that 
 the first doubt of her own wisdom assailed her. Some words of 
 Stanhope's harsh words they had seemed when spoken sounded 
 in her ears above the fall of Anio's waters. Was it, indeed, un- 
 worthy of her the concealment? And the passionate desire to 
 return in some sort the wrong that had blasted her mother's life 
 and darkened her own? How was it that now when Fate put 
 the weapon in her hand she could not use it ? She had often 
 said in bitterness of spirit that she was her father's daughter. 
 But the hour had come for her to feel that she was her mother's 
 also. "No wrong done by another can degrade us," the sweet, 
 solemn voice seemed saying in her heart, " unless we suffer it to 
 drag us down to hatred and revenge." She put her hand to her 
 throat with a sudden sound like a convulsive sob, which startled 
 Waldegrave. Quite as much the paleness of her face startled him 
 when she turned around.
 
 366 HEAR1 OF STEEL. 
 
 "Do you know what it is," she said, quickly, "to be rent in 
 two to be drawn in opposite directions by opposite feelings and 
 influences to be neither wholly good enough to forgive, nor 
 wholly bad enough to hate, yet to be torn by the struggle and ex- 
 hausted by the fight ? You do not comprehend ; and I can not 
 tell you what I mean. But those who are wiser than I am are 
 probably right it is just that you should know. Therefore, do 
 not let any thought of me keep you from listening, if if one who 
 has a right to speak should come to you." 
 
 The effort which it cost her to utter this was so great that 
 it gave an effect to the words, in themselves sufficiently sur- 
 prising, which startled Waldegrave, even more than the expres- 
 sion of her face. 
 
 " But," he said, moved out of his usual calm, and taking a 
 step nearer to her, " whatever there is to tell, why should you 
 not tell it to me yourself here now ? " 
 
 "It is impossible," she answered. " An hour ago I could not 
 have believed it possible that I should say as much as this ; but 
 there is no need that you and I shall ever meet again : so it does 
 not matter." 
 
 " No need ! " He stopped himself suddenly. Surely there 
 was no need, and surely also there was that within his heart 
 which made the need imperative the other way imperative that 
 they should not meet. For where could this attraction possibly 
 end ? He was sufficiently master of himself to face that question 
 and answer it. And the answer left no alternative. In the very 
 pang which stirred him at the thought of separation, he recognized 
 the absolute necessity for it. There was no possible ground on 
 which he could meet this beautiful stranger this girl without 
 any advantage of worldly position, of whose past and whose cir- 
 cumstances he knew nothing without incurring danger ; not, in- 
 deed, to what he held and would hold sacred through any stress 
 the obligations and duties of rank but to his own peace of mind. 
 To Tiers he recognized that there was no danger. The mysterious 
 dislike which yet was not entirely dislike with which she re- 
 garded him, surrounded her like a shield. 
 
 "I do not understand you in the least," he said, at length. 
 " But perhaps you will tell me that does not matter."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 367 
 
 "Do not think me rude," she answered, "if I say that nothing 
 could matter less. Now let us walk on. I fear the others must 
 wonder where we are." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MEANWHILE, another conversation was taking place along this 
 beautiful road to the Quintiliolo. Mrs. Falconer, as the party set 
 out, had, by a slight gesture, summoned Stanhope to her side. 
 
 "I shall be glad if you will walk with me," she said, in a low 
 tone; " there is something I wish to say to you presently." 
 
 " You are very kind to give me the pleasure of being with 
 you," he answered. " One may be grateful for that which one 
 could not have ventured to ask for." 
 
 "You have suddenly become very modest," she replied. "I 
 can not imagine that there is anything for which if you wished 
 it you would hesitate to ask." 
 
 A slight very slight significance in her tone was not lost on. 
 his ear. But he smiled as he said, " If you really think so, it only 
 proves that, even after our long acquaintance, you do not know 
 me well." 
 
 "I may say the same thing," she rejoined. "Even after our 
 long acquaintance, I sometimes wonder if you know me at all." 
 
 " What proof of ignorance have I given ? " he asked, gravely. 
 
 She looked at him with a glance which he did not comprehend. 
 "I will tell you presently," she answered. 
 
 And presently, when they had fallen a little apart from the 
 others, and private conversation became possible, she opened the 
 subject in a manner altogether unexpected to him. 
 
 "I should like to know," she said, " why you were so anxious 
 this morning that Irene should enter the carriage and that I should 
 ride ? " 
 
 Stanhope, who was not prepared for being taken to task on 
 this point, felt himself change countenance a fact sufficiently 
 unusual to warrant strong conclusions being drawn from it. 
 
 "I thought my reason was obvious," he answered, after a per- 
 ceptible pause. " The ride was too long for her and, though she
 
 368 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 may not have been conscious of fatigue at the time, I am sure she 
 will feel the effects severely." 
 
 "That may have heen one reason," Mrs. Falconer replied; 
 " but you can not affirm that it was your only or even your chief 
 one. And if you do not wish to tell me what that reason was, I 
 can tell you. It was because you wished to separate her from the 
 Marquis de Chateaumesnil." 
 
 Again she looked at him, as if defying him to contradict her ; 
 and he had not one word to say. So, after a moment, she resumed : 
 
 " Do you call that knowing me, Mr. Stanhope ? To think that 
 I would care for an allegiance which had wavered and needed to 
 be guarded from the object that attracted it ? Have you not done 
 me injustice enough in urging me to barter my wealth for rank, 
 without doing me the deeper injustice of fancying that all I cared 
 for was that rank, without regard to the loyalty of the person con- 
 cerned ? " 
 
 The proud, passionate indignation of her voice pierced him 
 like a sword as the reproach which she uttered once before on 
 this subject had done. He looked at her with a face pale from 
 feeling, and eyes that seemed pleading against her judgment. 
 
 " Before I answer you with regard to Irene and the Marquis," 
 he said, "let me reply to your charge with regard to yourself. 
 You misunderstood me in fancying that I ever urged you to barter 
 your wealth for rank. I only thought it best, from every point 
 of view, that you should make a great marriage and I fancied 
 that you thought so also." 
 
 " You had no reason to imagine that I thought so," she said, 
 with the same quiver of indignation in her voice. 
 
 " Pardon me," he answered. " I had reason in my knowledge 
 of your character, and in much that has fallen from yourself. 
 You have not denied that, within certain limits, you are an ambi- 
 tious woman. I have never done you the injustice to imagine 
 that you would condescend to anything unworthy, for an ambi- 
 tious end. But there is nothing unworthy in making a mariage 
 de convenance. It is only a question of taste and of personal char- 
 acter." 
 
 "I understand," she said and now it was an edge of bitter- 
 ness that her voice took " you thought me a woman without any
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 369 
 
 of the finer sentiments which go to make up the highest type of 
 womanhood ; one who, for greater rank, loftier social position, 
 was ready to enter into a loveless marriage. And I " she paused 
 for an instant, and looked away over the beautiful foreground of 
 rocks and water and green hill-side to the blue Campagna and the 
 distant solemn dome " well, I justified yonr opinion in thus far 
 that I have hesitated. I have taken into consideration doing 
 what every one advised ; I have said to myself: 'Why not? Love 
 failed me long ago, and those who are my friends think that I can 
 do no better with my life than to devote it to social ambition.' 
 Yet something has held me back. Perhaps it was the dread of 
 losing my liberty for marriage is a bondage which only love can 
 sweeten. But now I hesitate no longer. Consideration is at an 
 end. To think of marrying a man who had worn out the power 
 of keen feeling, and whose indifference toward me was only a 
 part of his indifference to all the world, was one thing ; but to 
 think of marrying a man to whom another woman is more attract- 
 ive than I am, is quite a different thing. Of the last I will never 
 think." 
 
 The flash of a haughty glance emphasized her words and 
 Stanhope's heart leaped as it had not leaped in many days before. 
 He felt like one from whom a weight was suddenly lifted, before 
 whom a door in a dark wall unexpectedly opens with glimpses of 
 the fair, enchanting world of magic plain and radiant hills. In- 
 voluntarily he turned toward her eagerly. " Do you mean, then, 
 that you will not marry M. de Chateaumesnil ?" he asked. 
 
 " I mean that," she answered, coldly for she read his eager- 
 ness as alarm " I must forget my own self-respect before I could 
 marry a man who is in love with some one else." 
 
 Then the obstinate sense of justice which had before this led 
 Stanhope to speak in behalf ofthe Marquis, forced him to say : 
 
 " There, I think, you mistake. I am sure that he is not in love 
 with Irene. She has attracted him from his first acquaintance 
 with her, as to use your own expression she must attract every 
 one, and he is interested and charmed by her ; but no more than 
 that." 
 
 "Everything is relative," she answered, "and to be interested 
 and charmed is a great deal for M. de Chateaumesnil. Certainly
 
 370 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 he has never professed to be either the one or the other, so far as 
 I am concerned. But do not imagine," she went on, quickly, as 
 she met an anxious glance from Stanhope, " that I am angry or 
 piqued. I have known this for some time past, and it has not 
 cost me a pang of any kind not even of mortified vanity. You 
 are the only person with whom I have been angry. I confess that 
 I felt very much vexed with you this morning when I saw, by 
 your persistence about the riding, that you recognized all that I 
 did, and that, instead of giving me the warning of a friend in- 
 stead of saying, ' At least I hold you worthy of a better fate than 
 to give your life and all its capabilities to a man who even now 
 thinks more of another than of you ' you were anxious that I 
 should remain in ignorance, and under any circumstances become 
 Marquise de Chateaumesnil." 
 
 " You are very hard on me," he said, in a low tone. " Do 
 yon not see that I had no right? And then, on my honor, I 
 believe that you are wrong in your inference I do not believe 
 that the Marquis feels for Irene anything that merits serious con- 
 sideration. You may credit my sincerity in this," he added, 
 " since it is no easy thing for me to say. But I should be guilty 
 of treachery to my friend if I did not say it." 
 
 " I know that you are exceedingly loyal in your friendship 
 to him," she said, with a faint emphasis on the last pronoun. 
 
 " And you think that I am less loyal in my friendship to you ? " 
 he asked. "Well with a slight, painful smile "I must submit 
 to that opinion as a punishment for venturing to advise no, I 
 never advised for venturing to discuss your personal and private 
 affairs." 
 
 " Forgive me," she said, with a sudden impulse. " What right 
 have I to weigh and measure, to blame and reproach you ? I am 
 sure you have meant to be truly my friend ; and if if I expected 
 some degree of comprehension from you which I have not found, 
 it is well, no doubt, to realize that perfect comprehension is not 
 to be hoped from any one on earth." 
 
 "If I have failed in comprehension, and made mistakes with 
 regard to you," he said, " it is because I have presumptuously in- 
 sisted on fitting your character to my conception of it, instead of 
 being willing to amend the conception by the character."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 371 
 
 " Perhaps I am to blame for not having a consistent charac- 
 ter," she said, with a smile. "But you know I warned you long 
 ago that it was possible that even your judgment might be mis- 
 taken." 
 
 " I remember," he said, " and I can only repeat that I am suf- 
 ficiently punished." 
 
 "But that I do not wish you to be," she said. " Why should 
 I? There is no harm done. And if I have felt aggrieved by 
 your reading me in such a light well, that is over. After all, 
 what was my anger but a form of wounded self-love? What I 
 resented was that you rated me lower than I felt that I deserved 
 to be rated." 
 
 " For any one to rate you higher than I do," he said, " would 
 be impossible, I think ; and I can hardly make you understand the 
 form of my mistake, which was rather in holding you to be fitted 
 by nature for a great position, than in any belief of your ambi- 
 tious desire for it." 
 
 "Let us then say no more about it," she answered. "And I 
 assure you that, as concerns M. de Chateaumesnil, I feel relief 
 rather than regret. I had bound myself to answer him, and I 
 grew daily more uncertain how to answer. Now all uncertainty 
 is ended." 
 
 "And yet," said Stanhope, constrained again by stubborn 
 honesty to speak against the dictates of his own heart, " I am 
 sure that you will do him injustice if you base your refusal on the 
 attraction he has manifested for Irene." 
 
 " I shall do no injustice," she replied. " I shall not act rashly. 
 I have not even judged rashly I have observed M. de Chateau- 
 mesnil closely for some time, and I believe I know more of what 
 he feels than he knows himself." 
 
 To this Stanhope did not answer, and they walked on in silence 
 for several minutes. The soft air like an elixir of life blew in 
 their faces, fresh with the heavenly fresbness of the great hills. 
 The deep ravines at their feet were filled with silvery light as the 
 wind passed over them, rustling the leaves of the olive-woods 
 which clothed them ; long tendrils of clematis and ivy were wav- 
 ing from the rocks, up which goats were scrambling to nibble at 
 the herbage, and across the gorge they caught the white flash of
 
 372 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 leaping waters, and saw the temple of the Sibyl clear-cut against 
 the azure sky. 
 
 It was, as Ire'ne and Waldegrave were just then agreeing, an 
 ideal scene ; but people have not always feelings at command to 
 accord with such scenes, and Stanhope was very much out of ac- 
 cord with it. There was a tumult in his breast which he was de- 
 termined should not find expression, and since the danger of 
 silence was just then greater than the danger of speech, he soon 
 broke into the latter. 
 
 " I can not avoid blaming myself," he said abruptly, "for hav- 
 ing introduced Irene into your life. She has only proved an ele- 
 ment of perplexity and trouble." 
 
 "So far from that," said Mrs. Falconer, " she has proved an 
 element of pleasure and interest. But even if it were other- 
 wise," she added, with a smile, "you should not blame yourself, 
 for I remember very well a day when, as we walked through the 
 park of Versailles, I told you that I would take charge of her. 
 You remonstrated then, if my memory serves me, and prophesied 
 much possible trouble ; but I insisted upon carrying out my inten- 
 tion, and I have never for an hour regretted it." 
 
 "I remember that day very well," he said, looking at the 
 picturesque road as it wound away before them, flecked with sun 
 and shadow, "and how you exulted in the freedom that permitted 
 you to do what you would." 
 
 "And I have nearly parted with it! " she said. "The thought 
 almost makes me shudder ! Henceforth suitors may come and go, 
 but I shall hold fast to the one great good that I have." 
 
 "Do you then," he said, after a moment's pause, "forswear 
 all thought of marriage ? " 
 
 " I can not tell how my ambition will be tempted hereafter," 
 she answered, a little dryly ; " but for the present, certainly I wish 
 to hear no more of it." 
 
 "You shall certainly hear no more of it from me," he said, 
 with a lightening of the heart, like that of one who sees a threat- 
 ening evil removed from his path. " We will talk of Irene. So 
 you still think it would be well for me to tell Count Waldegrave 
 to-day who she is ? " 
 
 " That is for you to decide," she answered. " I am only sure
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 373 
 
 that he should be told as soon as possible. Are you aware that 
 Violet Dysart is in Rome, and that she not only knows who Irene 
 is, but that she is acquainted with Count Waldegrave? " 
 
 " No," he replied, " 1 was not aware that Miss Dysart had 
 wandered to Rome, nor that she was acquainted with Count 
 Waldegrave ; but I was aware that she knew all that there is to 
 know about Irene." 
 
 "How did she learn it?-' 
 
 " You forget that it is no secret. Madame Lescar's story is an 
 exceedingly well-known fact, and a few years ago was fresh in 
 the minds of most of her country -people. Of late the deep se- 
 clusion of her life has caused many to forget; but you can judge 
 how little is needed to recall it in all its freshness, by the manner 
 in which you remembered it as soon as I mentioned her name to 
 you." 
 
 " Bat I had a peculiar, almost a personal interest from hav- 
 ing heard my mother speak of her." 
 
 "That interest was slight," he said, with a smile, " compared 
 to that which gossips feel. Quietly as Madame Lescar lived, and 
 quietly as she died, she was not suffered to rest in peace by the 
 purveyors of scandal. I never told you it was not worth a 
 thought that the ' Tittle-Tattle ' had a long article on her death ; 
 a garbled version of her story in all its details. Miss Dysart sent 
 me the paper. 
 
 " The 'Tittle-Tattle 'oh, I know what you mean," said Mrs. 
 Falconer. " That odious paper which is published in Paris, and 
 abounds in the most insolent personalities. For the matter of 
 that, all personalities are insolent, unless there is a distinct under- 
 standing between the editor and the person desiring to be socially 
 advertised. To one who does not desire it, nothing is more out- 
 raging than such a liberty." 
 
 " It is one of the crying evils of the day the unbridled license 
 of the press," said Stanhope ; " and the violation of every sanc- 
 tity of private life must, in its result, be demoralizing in the ex- 
 treme. You would have been indignant if you had seen the 
 article on Madame Lescar but ' things without remedy should 
 be without regard.' I put the paper in the fire, and endeavored 
 to forget it."
 
 374: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " And Violet Dysart sent it to you ? " 
 
 " Yes. She is of the class who like such information as is 
 afforded by papers of the order of the ' Tittle-Tattle.' Of course, 
 when she heard of Miss Lescar a young girl who had lately lost 
 her mother, and whom you had taken under your protection 
 she had no difficulty in putting two and two together." 
 
 " And she will not hesitate to enlighten Count Waldegrave 
 at the first opportunity. Lionel Erne said that she looked and 
 spoke most significantly when, on the Pincio a few days ago, she 
 saw him standing at my carriage." 
 
 " You are sure that she knows him ? " 
 
 " I am not sure, hut it is probable that she met him in Nice. 
 I should not be surprised if he were the magnet that has drawn 
 her to Rome poor Violet ! " 
 
 " Then certainly he must be told at once," said Stanhope. 
 "This makes the necessity imperative. I shall either find an 
 opportunity to speak to him to-day, or if opportunity does not 
 offer lose no time when we return to Rome." 
 
 " I am curious to know how he will take the revelation," said 
 Mrs. Falconer, after a pause. " Have you observed that he is like 
 one attracted against his will by Irene? He does not voluntarily 
 seek her; but his eyes are not thoroughly under his control, and 
 they follow her constantly, with an evidently unwilling fascina- 
 tion. "WTiat will he think, what will he do, when he hears who 
 she is? " 
 
 Stanhope lifted his shoulders. "I do not know," he said. 
 "But of this I am sure whatever Tie may do, she will never will- 
 ingly see him again." 
 
 The scattered party reunited on the broad terrace, where the 
 Church of the Madonna di Quintiliolo stands on the slope of Monte 
 Peschiavatore, looking across the valley at picturesque Tivoli, at 
 the massive ruins of the villa of Maecenas, at the foaming, spark- 
 ling cascades which burst forth beneath it and contrast with the 
 rich tint of its old masonry and the vivid green of the surround- 
 ing vegetation, and at the vast distances of the Campagna spread- 
 ing as far as the sea, which in clear weather can be discerned a 
 glimmering line on the distant horizon. 
 
 After remaining here for some time, they followed a path
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 375 
 
 which winds in steep descent down through magnificent olive- 
 groves trees that look patriarchal enough to have sheltered 
 Horace to the Ponte dell' Acquaria, or " Bridge of the Golden 
 "Water " called thus from a beautiful spring which rises near it. 
 A modern bridge crosses the Anio here, bnt a fine single arch of 
 travertine is left of the massive Roman bridge, over which tho 
 ancient Via Tiburtina passed. 
 
 At the spring they found servants with hampers awaiting 
 them, and Colonel Bevis said he had decided that this was prefer- 
 able to taking luncheon at one of the inns of Tivoli. Every one 
 agreed with him, and Lady Dorchester in especial commended 
 his judgment highly. 
 
 "I was just considering within myself," she said, "how I 
 should possibly ascend that opposite height, where I am told we 
 are to go, without some support for exhausted nature." 
 
 "And I am glad of an excuse to stay here a little longer," said 
 Irene. 
 
 Lady Dorchester smiled as she looked at the girl, who stood 
 by the fountain, the flickering shadows falling over her hare, 
 graceful head for she had taken off her hat her eyes full of 
 pleasure, her slender form seen against a background of beautiful 
 greenery and foaming water framed by the noble arch of the an- 
 cient bridge. 
 
 "Yon might be taken for the nymph of the spot," she said, 
 " and nymphs, I believe, require nothing besides mist to subsist 
 upon. But you must not be surprised if the rest of us need 
 something more substantial." 
 
 Irene laughed as she sat down on the spreading root of a large 
 olive-tree. "Dear Lady Dorchester," she said, "I have not ex- 
 pressed the least surprise, and no doubt I shall like very well to 
 be supported in that manner myself ; but, just now, I feel as if it 
 were enough simply to be in such a beautiful place." 
 
 "Mademoiselle Lescar makes one understand," said the Mar- 
 quis, "what that love of nature is which one of the English poets 
 said has ' no need of a remoter charm.' " 
 
 "Am I remarkable in it? " she asked, simply. " It seems to me 
 that all people who are capable of feeling at all, must feel on this 
 subject alike."
 
 376 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "No more than we feel alike on any other," said Lady Dor- 
 chester. " You and I, for instance, look on a beautiful scene with 
 wholly different eyes. And I confess that I should like to borrow 
 yours," she added, with another smile. 
 
 " We might all be glad to borrow Miss Lescar's eyes," said 
 Colonel Bevis, with an air of gallantry. 
 
 It was a delightful hour which they spent in this dell fit for 
 Egeria the beautiful fountain sparkling at their feet, the Anio 
 rushing by, the soft green shade flickering over them, the great 
 hills rising above, while attentive servants placed delicate dishes 
 before them, and filled their glasses with the beaded foam of wine 
 as pure and sweet as the water in which it had been cooled the 
 delightful vintage in which seems expressed all the mellow sun- 
 shine of France and Italy. 
 
 After luncheon, chance gave to Stanhope the opportunity he 
 desired for speaking to Count Waldegrave. They had roused 
 themselves from the pleasant lassitude which follows such refresh- 
 ment, from the talk that ranged lightly over many subjects, and 
 prepared to make the ascent of the Clivus Tiburtinus and re-enter 
 Tivoli. As they started, Waldegrave lingered behind to light a 
 cigar, and, perceiving the opportunity, Stanhope fell back and 
 joined him producing his own cigar-case as an excuse. 
 
 "I perceive, M. le Comte, that we have a bond of sympathy," 
 he observed. 
 
 "One very strong though light as smoke," answered the 
 other, with a smile. He had seen little of Stanhope, but was not 
 indisposed to like him. He extended his box of vesuvians, add- 
 ing, " May I offer yon a light ? " 
 
 " Thanks," said Stanhope, accepting the courtesy, though he 
 was too confirmed a smoker not to be well provided himself. By 
 the time he had lighted his cigar, however, he was gratified to 
 perceive that the others were some distance in advance, ascending 
 the steep road. 
 
 But, now that he found himself alone with Waldegrave as they 
 slowly followed, the difficulty of saying what he intended made 
 itself felt. Without an apparent reason to justify it, the revela- 
 tion was likely to appear unnecessary as he had remarked to 
 Mrs. Falconer ; and, but for the thought of Miss Dysart, it is prob-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 377 
 
 able that he would have allowed the opportunity to escape and 
 suffered matters to go on, trusting that no need for disclosure 
 would arise, or else that the denoument would arrange itself. 
 But this being impossible under present circumstances, and feel- 
 ing the need to justify Mrs. Falconer even more than himself, for 
 permitting the concealment, he began : 
 
 " Chance has befriended me, M. le Comte, in a desire which I 
 have had for some time to speak to you in private. Indeed, if to- 
 day's excursion had not accidentally brought us together, I should 
 have been obliged to seek an interview with you for the purpose." 
 
 The formality of this speech, and the gravity of the speaker's 
 tone, struck Waldegrave with less surprise than either would have 
 excited but for his late conversation with Irene from the recol- 
 lection of which his consciousness was still vibrating. He felt 
 instantly what these words prefaced, and he seemed to hear 
 Irene's voice as she said, "If any one who has a right to speak 
 comes to you, do not let any thought of me keep you from listen- 
 ing." Plainly the time for listening for hearing what was tho 
 mystery which had puzzled him was come. He turned to Stan- 
 hope with a face that expressed the keenest interest and attention. 
 
 "I shall be happy to hear whatever you have to say," he 
 answered. 
 
 "There would be no need for me to say anything," Stanhope 
 replied, "if I had been in Rome when you first met Miss Lescar. 
 I should have insisted upon informing you who she is before you 
 made her acquaintance ; and in that case, speaking for her, I am 
 sure that there would have been no acquaintance." 
 
 "Waldegrave stopped short in the path which they were fol- 
 lowing, and almost unconsciously confronted the speaker. 
 
 " Why not ? " he asked, quickly almost haughtily " I have 
 known from the first that there was some mystery connected 
 with Miss Lescar, but I am unable to conceive how it can affect 
 me. You say that you would have told me who she is. Tell me 
 now. Who is she ? " 
 
 The question was peremptory ; the answer prompt and brief : 
 
 "She is your uncle's daughter." 
 
 Silence followed. For a moment they stood facing each other 
 Stanhope reading the rapid changes in the face before him
 
 378 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Waldegrave regarding him with that mixture of surprise, incre- 
 dulity, and dawning belief which often characterizes the recep- 
 tion of astonishing news. At last he said, in a low, restrained 
 voice : 
 
 " My uncle's daughter ! Then you mean " 
 
 "That she is the child of Prince Waldegrave's first marriage 
 with Miss Lescar an American," replied Stanhope. " You must 
 certainly be aware that there was a marriage." 
 
 " Yes," answered Waldegrave, after a pause. " I am aware 
 that my uncle made such a marriage, and that it was regarded by 
 his friends as a mistake; but it was set aside before I knew 
 him, and I have never heard him allude to it." 
 
 " He would hardly be likely to allude to it if he has the grace 
 of a conscience," said Stanhope. "Nothing can be conceived 
 more shameful than the manner in which his wife was treated. 
 I do not apologize for such words, Count Waldegrave. Truth 
 needs no apology." 
 
 "And should not be resented," said Count Waldegrave. '-I 
 am ignorant of anything beyond the barest facts of the matter. 
 During my early youth I knew nothing of my uncle. He lived 
 at court or on foreign missions, while I was brought up on my 
 father's estate in Silesia. His first marriage had been annulled 
 before the death of my father. Since then he has taken the 
 place of a father in my life. " 
 
 " And very naturally you are indisposed to judge him harshly," 
 said Stanhope. " But it is the test of a just mind to be able to 
 put itself in the place of another ; and if you will put yourself in 
 the place of Irene Lescar, you may be able to understand the bit- 
 terness of her resentment toward the man who sacrificed her 
 mother to his ambition." 
 
 Waldegrave was silent for some time. Then he said: "I can 
 understand. I realize what she must feel, and I know now what 
 it is that has shone in her eyes when she looked at me." 
 
 " Y'ou have represented and recalled to her, " said Stanhope, 
 "the wrong which darkened her mother's life and threatens to 
 embitter her own. The mother bore her great burden with a 
 nobleness and dignity that I have never seen equaled. It is not 
 from her that Irene has her fiery passion and unbending nature.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 3Y9 
 
 Those traits are inherited from the father she abhors. It was her 
 mother's greatest anxiety in life and last thought in death, the 
 fear that this sense of wrong would darken and overshadow her 
 nature. Therefore, of all things to have been avoided was any- 
 thing which would recall and intensify the sense of it. Her ac- 
 quaintance with you has been such a thing. It has kept fresh in 
 her mind the passionate sense of outrage, and deepened the de- 
 sire for revenge, which is a poison that will destroy the noblest 
 nature." 
 
 "If that is the case," said Waldegrave, "why was I not told 
 at once ? " 
 
 "Because," answered Stanhope, " Mrs. Falconer had not suffi- 
 cient resolution to resist Irene, who vehemently insisted that you 
 should not be told. Had I been here, I should not have felt it 
 right to regard her wishes ; but, when I arrived, the acquaintance 
 had been made. I therefore waited to see what would be the 
 result. I hoped that it might prove a mere passing contact of 
 strangers ; but since circumstances have persistently continued to 
 throw you together, I determined some time ago that you should 
 hear the truth, notwithstanding Irene's opposition." 
 
 "You told her, then, of your intention? " 
 
 " Distinctly." 
 
 " And may I ask since you speak with so much authority 
 what your position toward her is? " 
 
 "My position," replied Stanhope, "is that of her guardian. 
 It is a responsibility which I reluctantly assumed at the earnest 
 request of her mother, and which has been greatly lightened by 
 the kindness of Mrs. Falconer." 
 
 " She is not related to Mrs. Falconer, then ? " 
 
 " Not in the least. The only tie is that of hereditary friend- 
 ship." 
 
 They walked on in silence for several minutes. "Waldegrave 
 was evidently thinking deeply, and as Stanhope glanced at him 
 once or twice, he was struck by the expression of his face a 
 proud, resolute face seen thus in repose, but as Irene had felt 
 in looking at it in St. John Lateran, not the face of a man who 
 could be guilty of treading down weakness with power. They 
 were nearing the crest of the hill, when he spoke abruptly :
 
 380 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "That was true which you said a moment ago that it is the 
 test of a just mind to be able to put itself in the place of an- 
 other, and, I may add, to look calmly at both sides of a question 
 or a fact. I should like to hear the story of my uncle's marriage 
 as his daughter has heard it. Will you tell it to me ? " 
 
 "Willingly," answered Stanhope. "But to tell it thoroughly 
 and in detail would be too long for this time and place." 
 
 " As we return to Kome it may be possible to make an oppor- 
 tunity. If not, I shall be happy to see you at my apartment. 
 And now, one other favor. Do not suffer Miss Lescar to know or 
 suspect that you have spoken to me on this subject. Let her 
 enjoy the remainder of the day without a shadow." 
 
 Stanhope was pleased by the consideration evinced in this 
 request. 
 
 " She shall certainly not know or suspect from me," he said, 
 " for it would make your presence very painful to her. But I 
 warn you that her eyes are keen. Beware of betraying it your- 
 self." 
 
 Waldegrave smiled slightly. " I rarely betray what I wish to 
 conceal," he said. "Moreover, I shall not trust myself near her." 
 
 Then they entered the mediaeval battlemented gate, through 
 which the rest of the party had preceded them, into the narrow 
 streets of the town, which still bears as its motto the proud 
 name bestowed on it by Virgil, Superbitm Tibur. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 NOTHING can be conceived finer than the descent of the mount- 
 ain from Tivoli. The whole azure scroll df the Campagna then 
 unrolls before the gaze, from the base of the hill to the distant 
 Mediterranean, and from the fairy Sabines to the Pontine Marshes 
 an expanse absolutely unmatched in all the world for beauty 
 and historic glory. On all the near hill-sides convents, villas, and 
 villages gleam above the olive-groves that surround them, and in 
 the midst of the great plain lies Eome a vision of a city sur- 
 mounted by the soaring dome which distance is unable to oblit- 
 erate.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 381 
 
 It seemed to IrSne like a beautiful dream of a world at peace 
 with heaven, as, leaning back beside Lady Dorchester in the lux- 
 urious open carriage, they were driven rapidly down the winding 
 road a fresh, soft wind blowing in their faces, at their feet the 
 magical plain steeped in light and color, and before them a radiant 
 sky, where mountains, cities, peaks, and infinite distances of cloud, 
 were kindled into ineffable glory by the last rays of the sinking 
 sun while from every cliff and valley came the sweet sound of 
 the Angelus bell, mingling with, the tints of earth and heaven that 
 make twilight so divine in Italy. 
 
 "Waldegrave had kept his word. No shadow of the knowledge 
 given to him had fallen on her to mar her enjoyment of the day. 
 When they wandered through the wild, beautiful garden of the 
 Villa d'Este, he had carefully avoided approaching her ; though, 
 as Mrs. Falconer had remarked, his eyes were less under his con- 
 trol than his movements, and they followed the graceful figure as 
 it passed down the long alleys shaded by gigantic cypress and 
 ilex trees, as it paused by fountains that flung their flashing spray 
 against a background of deepest green, and fell with musical mur- 
 mur into colossal basins fringed with ferns and mosses, or when 
 it stood framed by that archway at the end of the great terrace, 
 of which it has been well said, that "none but the most consum- 
 mate artist would have placed it where it stands, in glorious relief 
 against the soft distances of the many-hued Campagna." It is 
 impossible to imagine any presence more fitted to such scenes 
 than that of Irene, with her noble bearing and classic grace; and 
 as Waldegrave watched her he felt like one before whom obsta- 
 cles vanished and who had but to put forth his hand with one 
 supreme effort, and seize that which had become to him of chief 
 value in the world. 
 
 This feeling was still with him as he rode down the mountain 
 in the sunset that was enchanting earth and sky. A few hours 
 before he had thought that only separation was possible between 
 himself and Ir^ne. Now a sense of elation filled his veins like 
 wine. She had been brought near to him in a manner that seemed 
 as wonderful as it was unexpected, which stirred all the chivalry 
 of his nature in her behalf. It was like a marvelous fate like a 
 page of romance that this girl, toward whom he had been so
 
 382 EEAET OF STEEL. 
 
 strongly attracted from the first, and whom he had loved despite 
 all the prejudices that had been arrayed against her, should prove 
 to be of his own race and lineage, born while her mother bore his 
 uncle's name in the face of the world ! He went back in memory 
 over all his meetings with her recalling every look, every tone, 
 every word, in the light of this new knowledge, and comprehend- 
 ing all that had been dark and puzzling until his heart melted 
 with an intense pity for the sadness that had fallen so early on 
 an innocent head. He tried then to remember all that he had 
 heard of his uncle's first marriage. Certainly it had been annulled 
 on the ground of a mere legal informality that he knew ; and, 
 for the first time, a sense of the cruel injustice involved in this, 
 occurred forcibly to him. It may safely be said that he had never 
 before given a thought to the probable feelings of the woman 
 whom Prince Waldegrave had swept out of the path of his ambi- 
 tion. The marriage had been a mistake which had been remedied 
 that was all. How sharp the remedy had proved to her whom 
 it crushed, he had not considered until now, when it came to him 
 with a penetrating sense of possible wrong, making a darker stain 
 on noble honor than any mesalliance could. 
 
 "But if there has been wrong, it shall be mine to atone," he 
 said to himself, with a passionate pleasure in the thought that it 
 would be his to banish for ever the shadow he had seen so often 
 in the beautiful eyes, to give back to the daughter all that the 
 mother had lost. His heart stirred as he felt how much he had 
 already gained much which he only realized now that he knew 
 what forces had been arrayed against him and with the hope of 
 all that he would yet win. It was not strange that he did not 
 think of failure. A man who has never failed in his life can 
 hardly be expected to conceive that even a woman's heart is be- 
 yond his reach. 
 
 Altogether it was a magical hour. He had dropped behind 
 the others, and only the regular tramp of his horse's feet broke 
 the stillness, except when he met a group of peasants returning 
 from their work in the vineyards below, and received their gra- 
 cious " Felicmima notte, signor." He echoed the salutation to 
 himself, " Felicusima ! " Yes, surely it was that this the fair, 
 coming night, which brought within his reach the happiness that
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 383 
 
 when the sun rose had seemed absolutely unattainable save at a 
 price he could not pay. All the poetry which formed the ideal 
 element of his nature seemed to waken, and passion the stronger 
 for its late restraint leaped all barriers. They were dreams as 
 exquisite as the " cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces " of 
 the heaven before him, which filled his mind and heart as he rode 
 down the beautiful hill-side of Tivoli. 
 
 The Anio, running swift as an arrow, was still full of lovely 
 reflections from the sky when he crossed the Ponte Lucano and 
 on the farther side overtook Stanhope, who had fallen behind the 
 others to wait for him. After a word or two, they rode on in 
 silence for some time both feeling the spell of the charmed twi- 
 light, and loath to break it by conversation. But several things 
 still remained to be said, and, conscious that it would be difficult 
 to find a better opportunity than this, Waldegrave presently spoke : 
 
 " Will you now, Mr. Stanhope, fulfill your promise to tell me 
 the story of my uncle's marriage, as his daughter has heard it ? 
 I have been endeavoring to recall all that I ever heard regarding 
 it but that is very little." 
 
 So Stanhope began the story that to its principal actor proved 
 so sad a tragedy. In its details it was entirely new to Walde- 
 grave, and, being related simply and strongly, every word told 
 with the effect that only truth possesses. When it was ended, he 
 remained silent for some time. Then he said in a meditative 
 tone: 
 
 " If the mother was formed in such a mold as the daughter, 
 the blow must have been terrible indeed to her ! " 
 
 "The mother was all and more than all that the daughter is," 
 said Stanhope. " All the exquisite sensitiveness and delicate 
 pride which you see in Irene was manifest in her. The blow 
 was so terrible that but for her child I am sure that it would have 
 killed her at once. I believe that it did kill her at last." 
 
 Again Waldegrave was silent for a moment or two before he 
 said : " I do not doubt, from what you have told me which is 
 corroborated by my own knowledge that she suffered a very 
 cruel wrong, and that her daughter has just cause for resentment. 
 What I desire to do, therefore, is to repair the wrong as far as 
 possible."
 
 384 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " But bow is it possible ? " asked Stanhope, with surprise. 
 " Madame Lesear has gone before ' a Judge whom no king can cor- 
 rupt.' Nothing can efface the wrong done to her, or remove its 
 memory from her daughter's mind, its consequences from her 
 daughter's life." 
 
 "Nothing, certainly, can now efface the wrong done to Ma- 
 dame Lesear," said Waldegrave. "But it is possible to remove 
 the consequences from her daughter's life. There is not, in jus- 
 tice, any stain whatever upon her birth ; and especially now 
 that her mother is dead there is no reason why Prince Walde- 
 grave should not acknowledge her as his daughter in the face of 
 the world." 
 
 Stanhope smiled a little sarcastically. "You have not 
 studied Irene's character to much purpose," he said, "if you 
 fancy she would accept that or any other amende which Prince 
 "Waldegrave could offer. She is the passionate champion of her 
 mother's wrong, and she would rather live under the stigma 
 which injustice has placed upon her, than to take rank and wealth 
 from the man who inflicted that wrong." 
 
 "From my knowledge of her I can imagine it possible," said 
 "Waldegrave. "But there is another way of repairing the injus- 
 tice, to which no such objection could be made. She can allow 
 me to give her exactly the position which her mother lost." 
 
 Dusk had deepened around them by this time, but there was 
 still light enough to enable them to see each other's faces, and 
 Stanhope looked with an expression of astonishment at his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " If I understand you," he said at length, " you mean that 
 you wish to marry her ? " 
 
 " I mean that," "Waldegrave answered. " And, since you are 
 her guardian, it is proper that you should hear it at once." 
 
 There was a short silence. Then Stanhope said : 
 
 " Have you considered the obstacles in your way?" 
 
 " There are no obstacles in my way except her own bitter feel- 
 ing," the young Count answered, " and that I hope to overcome. 
 I shall pay my uncle the respect of acquainting him at once with 
 what I intend to do and I shall be glad if he gives me his 
 approval. If he does not approve, however, I shall feel only the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 385 
 
 more bound, as the representative of our house in my generation, 
 to do all that I can to atone for what I regard as a stain on its 
 honor." 
 
 44 That is nobly said, and still more nobly felt," said Stanhope, 
 in a voice that showed how his quick sympathies were roused. 
 " I am glad that Irene has found such a kinsman and champion. 
 But I think you have little idea of what you will undertake in 
 offering yourself as her suitor. I should like to believe that you 
 will succeed ; but I must speak honestly and there is nothing 
 which seems to me less possible than that she will ever volun- 
 tarily take the name of which her mother and herself were 
 robbed." 
 
 " But," said Waldegrave, " if she is reasonable and I think 
 she is she will feel that it is unjust to visit an offense on the 
 head of one who was not in the remotest degree accountable for 
 it ; and, I may add, that it is ungenerous not to permit one who 
 has wronged her to make any reparation in his power." He 
 paused a moment, and his voice changed as he went on : " There 
 is something else to be considered. I should not think of offer- 
 ing my name to a woman whom I did not love. I have struggled 
 against the attraction which she has had for me ever since I saw 
 her first for nothing would induce me to marry beneath my 
 rank. Only to-day I determined not to see her again. I had no 
 fear of yielding; but there is folly in subjecting one's self to 
 unnecessary pain. Judge, then, what your revelation has been 
 to me ! It has brought near what before was beyond the pale 
 of possibility, and it has given love the form of duty. I have 
 not only to win the woman who has stirred my heart to its 
 depths, but to lift from her the shadow of wrong, and from my 
 name the stain of an unjust action. Do you think, then, that I 
 am likely to fail ? " 
 
 There was no earnest of failure in the proud and ardent reso- 
 lution which filled the tone of this question. It was that of one 
 who felt within himself the power to overcome any obstacle, to 
 break down any barrier. But Stanhope, who knew better than 
 he what barrier was before him, said after a moment : 
 
 " You will, I fear, regard me as a prophet of evil, but I am 
 constrained to answer that, judging from my knowledge of Irene, 
 17
 
 386 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 I do think you more likely to fail than to succeed. I believe that 
 so deeply is the memory and the resentment of her mother's wrong 
 impressed on her nature, that if you could win her heart it would 
 only be to inaugurate a worse struggle with herself than any she 
 has known yet, and the end of which would be that she would 
 suffer anything rather than forget that wrong in the manner you 
 propose." 
 
 " But that would be a very blindness of hato and a folly of 
 which I believe her incapable," said "Waldegrave. 
 
 " I hope that you may prove right," said Stanhope. " At least 
 my conscience is clear ; I have warned you." 
 
 "And I am grateful for your warning," said the other 
 " though I should feel myself a craven if I heeded it. Indeed, 
 you have added another motive to those which I have already 
 mentioned the motive of securing the triumph of her better 
 nature, of casting out hatred by love." 
 
 " It would be impossible to have a better end," said Stanhope, 
 earnestly. "I wish you success with all my heart! " 
 
 They rode on in silence for some time. Stars were shining 
 above them now ; around, the wide, vague, shadowy plain spread 
 like a world of infinite space. The charm of the soft, mystical 
 night seemed to touch them sensibly, like a caress of nature. In 
 the stillness they heard the sound of running water, and the wild, 
 sweet odors that haunt a stream came to their nostrils. Presently 
 they began to speak of indifferent things ; but conversation was 
 fitful and without interest on either side. They lapsed again into 
 silence, and it was not until the great shadow of the basilica of 
 San Lorenzo told them that the walls of Rome were near at hand, 
 that Waldegravo spoke again on the subject which filled the 
 thoughts of both. 
 
 " I shall start to-morrow for Nice, to see my uncle," he said. 
 " I shall remain there a day or two. Then I shall return to Rome. 
 May I beg you to be kind enough to refrain from telling Miss 
 Lescar of our conversation until I return?" 
 
 " Certainly," answered Stanhope, with an alacrity which sug- 
 gested that he was glad of an excuse to defer an evil hour. 
 
 "I shall communicate with you as soon as I return," Walde- 
 grave went on. " My resolution can not be changed in the faint-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 387 
 
 est degree ; but I shall be glad if my uncle takes the view of the 
 matter that I take." 
 
 "That is hardly to be expected," said Stanhope. "I only 
 hope that your resolution may not lead to a rupture between 
 yourself and him." 
 
 " If it does," said the young man, " I shall have the consola- 
 tion of feeling that it is I who am supporting the honor of our 
 name."
 
 PAKT III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NEAR where Nice lies, with its white houses fringing the fair 
 Mediterranean shore, the liquid sapphire of the sea in front, and 
 hehind range upon range of hills gray-green with olive-woods, 
 ahove which rise the jagged, glittering peaks of snow-clad Alps, 
 the villa in which Prince Waldegrave had established himself is 
 situated. 
 
 Its gates open on the road which winds from Nice toward 
 that famous headland where the " lone-dwelling Heracles " of 
 the old Hellenic colonists has left his name to the Portus Her- 
 culis Monoeci the little modern principality of Monaco and 
 thence, climbing the rocky ledges of the Turbia, follows the curv- 
 ing shore as it stretches away in many a bold cliff and fairy bay 
 to where Genoa sits enthroned with her marble palaces. Behind 
 the villa, gardens of great extent and beauty cover a promontory 
 that juts upon the sea a paradise of loveliness, with avenues of 
 dark-green foliage, at the end of which, seen through arched 
 openings, the blue waves sparkle and dance, where great stone- 
 pines lift their heads into the upper air, where against the trop- 
 ical green of palms the tremulous gold of the mimosa shows, with 
 the pink-white of flowering almond and the blossoming fire of 
 scarlet camellias, where oranges gleam "like gold in leafy gloom," 
 where Judas-trees drop their purple blossoms, and where roses, 
 heliotrope, and oleander fill the air with fragrance, which seems 
 to mingle with the soft pervading murmur of the sea. 
 
 Knowing that his uncle had a great aversion to being taken 
 by surprise, Waldegrave had telegraphed on leaving Eome ; and, 
 when he reached the small station near the villa, he found Prince 
 Waldegrave's admirably appointed carriage and richly liveried ser-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 389 
 
 vants awaiting him. There was only a short stretch of road from 
 the station to the gates of the villa, then a winding drive under 
 orange and mimosa trees led to the door, where other servants 
 were in attendance. As Waldegrave entered the superb hall with 
 its statues on pedestals and Oriental carpets strewed over the mar- 
 hie pavement, a suave major-domo advanced and informed him 
 that u his Excellency " would be happy to see him in his private 
 apartments after dinner. 
 
 " His Excellency dines alone ? " he inquired. 
 
 " His Excellency has been very unwell for several days," the 
 major-domo replied, " and by order of his physician dines early. 
 Madame la Princesse, however, dines at the usual hour, and will 
 expect M. le Cointe." 
 
 M. le Comte was then conducted to his apartments, where, in 
 the interval before dinner, he had time to realize, more clearly 
 than he had yet done, all that awaited him in the interview 
 with his uncle. What he felt was not fear in the ordinary sense 
 nor as ordinary people would have felt it in bearding such a 
 lion as Prince Waldegrave so much as that shrinking from giv- 
 ing pain which a fine nature must always feel, and which in his 
 case was intensified by the necessity to sit in judgment on the 
 conduct of one who had been as a father to him. For a moment 
 he wished that he had made his communication in writing ; but 
 he rejected the thought almost instantly. No : whatever was to 
 be said should be said face to face ; and, if the end was a rupture 
 of the affection of years, it should at least not be from any fault 
 of word or manner on his part. 
 
 Fortified by this resolution, he went down, as the dinner-hour 
 drew near, and found Princess Waldegrave in one of the salons 
 that opened into each other in a long suite. She was a handsome, 
 inanimate woman, who roused herself, however, to express pleas- 
 ure at his arrival. 
 
 " For we have been dull since the last attack of the Prince, 1 ' 
 she said. " I have been out very little, and have invited no one 
 here." 
 
 " I hope the attack was not serious," said Waldegrave. 
 
 " Not very serious, though at one time the physicians expressed 
 some anxiety," replied the Princess. " We thought of telegraph-
 
 390 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 ing to you, but it appeared there was no need ; and then a day or 
 so later your telegram arrived, which made your uncle suspect 
 that you had been summoned." 
 
 " I shall disabuse his mind of that suspicion," said Waldegrave, 
 smiling. " I have come on a matter of special importance, and 
 my resolution to leave Kome was taken so suddenly that I had 
 not time to write." 
 
 " I supposed that it was some political affair," said the Prin- 
 cess, indifferently she was one of the women to whom politics 
 represent all that is least interesting in life " but the physicians 
 greatly disapprove of Prince Waldegrave's devoting so much time 
 to his correspondence," she went on. " They say that he over- 
 works his brain, and I really think it would be well if you remon- 
 strated. Your influence is greater with him than that of any one 
 else." 
 
 " I do not think that any one can be said to have any ' influ- 
 ence' with him," replied Waldegrave. " He has always a reason 
 for what he does he has always deliberately weighed and ac- 
 cepted consequences and therefore to remonstrate with him is 
 useless." 
 
 The speaker's words had peculiar meaning to himself as he 
 uttered them, for he could not help thinking how little it was 
 likely that his wishes would affect the strong, proud nature that 
 he knew so well, in the matter now near his heart. 
 
 Dinner was then announced, and during the course of it Prin- 
 cess Waldegrave talked entirely of social gossip, for which Nice 
 near by afforded an admirable field, and with which she seemed 
 thoroughly conversant, notwithstanding the seclusion of which 
 she complained. When she finally rose to leave the room, Walde- 
 grave excused himself from joining her in the drawing-room, since 
 his uncle had desired to see him ; and, left alone, devoted a few 
 minutes to collecting his thoughts and nerving himself for the 
 coming interview. 
 
 Prince Waldegrave's apartments were on the other side of the 
 house, and, having summoned the groom of the chambers, and 
 learned that he was ready to receive him, Waldegrave went down 
 a long corridor covered with thick carpet, upon which not a foot- 
 fall was audible, to the cabinet de travail, where he found his
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 391 
 
 uncle slowly pacing up and down the floor, while a secretary sat 
 writing at a desk in one corner. 
 
 It is difficult to imagine a more striking presence than that on 
 which the tempered lamp-light fell a tall figure, appearing taller 
 even than it was, hy reason of superb proportions and stately 
 bearing ; a noble head, crowned by close-clipped gray curls ; and 
 a face which expressed that blending of intellectual and moral 
 force which forms the ideal combination for a ruler. The brow 
 was more wide and compact than high, with the broad base of 
 brain so essential for intellect, making the setting of the eyes very 
 deep, from which they looked out clear as crystal and penetrating 
 as Damascus steel. The nose was large and well formed, the 
 inouth finely cut and resolute in the extreme an expression 
 deepened by the shape of the square, massive jaw ; altogether 
 a face in which there was not one weak line the face of a 
 man whose enemies might well fear, whose adherents well trust 
 in him. 
 
 But what was it that Waldegrave for the first time saw in this 
 face ? With the quickness of lightning it came to him as he en- 
 tered the room, and his uncle paused, confronting him. It was 
 the likeness to another face in which a vague resemblance had 
 often haunted him a face where this brow was to be seen copied 
 in miniature, and from which the same clear, dauntless eyes looked 
 out. " How could I have been so blind as not to have seen it be- 
 fore ? " he thought, while Prince Waldegrave held out his hand, 
 saying : 
 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure, Otto.". 
 
 " It was wholly unexpected to me," the young man answered. 
 u But it is a greater pleasure, inasmuch as the Princess tells me 
 that I am to congratulate you on recovering from an attack of 
 illness." 
 
 " Oh, a slight attack," said the Prince who, having lived for 
 years as if his muscles were leather and his nerves steel, now 
 cbafed under the restrictions and imputation of illness. " It was 
 not serious. I hope that despite my orders to the contrary you 
 were not summoned on that account." 
 
 " Certainly not," answered Waldegrave. " I had not heard of 
 your illness until I reached here a few hours ago. I am truly glad
 
 392 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 to see that the attack was not serious. But the Princess tells me 
 that the physicians remonstrate against the labor to which you 
 still subject your brain." 
 
 " Pooh ! a little correspondence." 
 
 Waldegrave elevated his eyebrows as he glanced toward the 
 desk where the secretary sat, with its piles of official-looking 
 documents and sheafs of letters. 
 
 " I have been in public life some time," he said, " and I confess 
 that is hardly my idea of ' a little correspondence.' " 
 
 Prince Waldegrave smiled, but frowned slightly also. 
 
 " No matter," he said. " If I am to die I shall die in harness. 
 The Princess is very kind, but do not let her persuade you to 
 come to me with the 'remonstrances' of physicians who know 
 no more of the importance and exigence of the affairs which de- 
 mand my attention than they do of the laws governing the stellar 
 system. However, I was just about to dismiss my secretary for 
 the evening when you came in, and 1 shall now do so, which I 
 hope will satisfy you that I am not killing myself." 
 
 He turned away as he spoke, and Waldegrave, watching the 
 stately figure, thought that by the vigor and decision of its move- 
 ments there was not much ground for fear. The secretary was 
 dismissed with a few brief directions, and then the Prince re- 
 turned. 
 
 " Now tell me," he said, as Waldegrave and himself sat down 
 in front of a window which opened on the garden, and through 
 which came the odor of flowers with the soft, incessant murmur 
 of the sea, " what has -brought you ? " 
 
 Certainly a leading question this and certainly, also, one 
 which Waldegrave, despite all his preparation, felt himself for a 
 moment unable to answer. His silence and hesitation were so re- 
 markable, that his uncle gave a quick glance of surprised interro- 
 gation. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " he asked. " Surely no serious com- 
 plication has arisen at Rome ? " 
 
 " None," answered Waldegrave. " None is likely to arise with 
 the government, which, like Mohammed's coffin, hangs between 
 heaven and earth, without support in either. A kingdom created 
 by revolution, and menaced by the forces which created it, is
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 393 
 
 scarcely likely to be offensive. As for the Vatican, no influence 
 of diplomacy nor force of arms can change the tranquil non pos- 
 simus of his Holiness." 
 
 The Prince frowned. Undeterred by the example of many be- 
 fore him, he had made that vain trial of strength with the Rock 
 of Peter, which, since the days of Nero, has only ended in one 
 way. Like another famous diplomatist, he had declared that he 
 would never go to Canossa ; and, like that same diplomatist, he 
 was now generally supposed to be on his road thither finding 
 even his iron will met by that calm resistance which offers its 
 neck to the sword, but will not in one jot or one tittle yield the 
 sacred rights committed to its care and feeling it absolutely 
 necessary, in the face of the growing power of socialism, to con- 
 ciliate the outraged Catholic subjects of his sovereign. 
 
 " What then ? " he said, rather impatiently. " You are not 
 given to caprice you would not have come without a reason 
 and I am not fond of mystery, you know." 
 
 "I have not come without a reason," replied Waldegrave; 
 " and I have no desire to make a mystery of it. I am at last 
 thinking of marriage." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," said the Prince, warmly. " It is a 
 subject which I have not urged upon your consideration, because 
 I knew that in time you would think of it ; and it is better to de- 
 fer marriage too late than to make it too early. Moreover, I have 
 great confidence in your judgment. I have always felt sure that 
 your choice, whenever it was made, would be a wise one." 
 
 " I think that it is a wise one," said "Waldegrave, " but whether 
 you will agree with me or not is, I fear, doubtful." 
 
 " What ! " said the Prince, sharply, " do you mean to tell me 
 that, after all my confidence, you of all men are thinking of 
 any marriage in which there can be a doubt of its wisdom ? " 
 
 " Before I answer," said Waldegrave, calmly, " let me ask how 
 you would define a wise marriage ? " 
 
 " There is but one way in which a sensible man can define it," 
 was the reply. " A wise marriage is one which strengthens a 
 man's hands in the battle of life which brings him wealth, influ- 
 ence, and strong alliance. Such a marriage I have never doubted 
 that you would make."
 
 394; HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " But, in the first place," said Waldegrave, " I do not recognize 
 in my case the need to seek those things. The great prestige of 
 your fame is more than any of them ; and starting in life with 
 that advantage, I feel within myself the power to achieve all that I 
 desire. I have no need to strengthen my hands by strong alliance." 
 
 "Every man in public life has need of it," said his uncle, 
 " though you certainly less than most. But, with the ambition 
 which I know you to possess, I did not think that you would 
 neglect any means that would help you to set your foot on the 
 neck of Fortune." 
 
 " I shall set it there," said Waldegrave, quietly, " without such 
 help. And now let me tell you what / hold to be a wise mar- 
 riage. It is one that will indeed strengthen a man's hands for the 
 battle of life, but in a different manner from that you recom- 
 mend ; for, while wealth is a good thing, strong alliance another 
 good thing, and rank the best indeed, I should not think of mar- 
 rying any one of low rank" 
 
 " I am glad to hear that," said the Prince, parenthetically. 
 
 "Nevertheless, there are things for the absence of which 
 neither wealth, rank, nor alliance could compensate. A wise 
 marriage is that which gives to a man a companion of whose 
 sympathy and comprehension he is sure one with intellect 
 enough to understand his thoughts, and who by understanding 
 helps him to embody them; with a nature that responds to every 
 feeling, and with whom existence, therefore, could never become 
 dull. Such a companion would make for one's life a citadel of 
 peace, would give wings to ambition, which might else crawl upon 
 the earth, would quicken all one's powers, and would double the 
 sweetness of any success, as she would take the sting from any 
 failure." 
 
 Waldegrave had almost forgotten to whom he was speaking, 
 as his own words conjured before him the vision that for many 
 days now had been present with him. He looked out over the 
 garden, while his face assumed an expression which his uncle had 
 never seen it wear before the expression of one who had entered 
 into the charmed citadel of which he spoke and, after regarding 
 him for a moment with astonishment, Prince Waldegrave shrugged 
 his shoulders.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 395 
 
 " When you talk in that strain, Otto, I have nothing to remark 
 except that it is something I never expected to hear from you," 
 he said. " I hoped that the passion which makes fools of men 
 would not find a victim in you. But I perceive that I flattered 
 myself with a vain hope. The hour of folly has come to you, as I 
 suppose it comes to all. It is some consolation, however, that you 
 have not quite lost your senses. Under all this talk of sympathy 
 and comprehension and unrealizable ideals, I gather that at least 
 you are not thinking of marrying any one beneath yon in rank." 
 
 " The person of whom I am thinking is in point of rank alto- 
 gether my equal," said Waldegrave. 
 
 " In that case it is necessary to make the best of the matter. 
 Who is she ? " 
 
 It was exactly the question which Waldegrave himself had 
 turned to Stanhope and asked on the hill of Tivoli. The recol- 
 lection of that moment, and of his own sensations, made him hesi- 
 tate again. He feared the effect upon his uncle more than he 
 feared anything which the latter was likely to say or do. But 
 hesitation was something which Prince Waldegrave did not tol- 
 erate. With another of the quick glances that seemed able to 
 pierce any reserve, he repeated the question : 
 
 " Who is she ? " Then, after an instant, he added, " Not a 
 foreigner, I hope ? " 
 
 " She is not exactly a foreigner," answered Waldegrave ; " but 
 her birth, and her life have been at variance. She was born to 
 high rank, which she lost at least, she lost all the advantages of 
 it through no fault of her own, very early in life. She has, 
 therefore, never lived in her native country, and she is alienated 
 from it in affection. But an act of simple justice may restore to 
 her what she has lost, and she is fitted by nature and education to 
 adorn the highest position." 
 
 " Are you describing the daughter of an exiled royal house ? " 
 asked his uncle, with a slight smile. " I have said before that I do 
 not like mysteries. What is the name of this princess ? " 
 
 Then Waldegrave could hesitate no longer. 
 " She is called," he said, " Miss Lescar. She is indeed an exiled 
 princess ; but, instead of being the daughter of a royal house, she 
 is your daughter."
 
 396 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE pause which followed those words may not have been 
 very long in reality, but it seemed of immense length to Walde- 
 grave. He almost felt as if his heart ceased heating as he waited 
 for his uncle's reply. The awe with which Prince Waldegrave 
 .inspired every one else was now felt by him for the first time ; 
 yet it was not so much awe as anxiety as doubt how he would 
 receive the intelligence, and fear for its possible effect upon him. 
 The suspense was keen ; yet, when the Prince spoke, his tone and 
 manner were altogether different from any "Waldegrave had ex- 
 pected. 
 
 " How do you know this ? " he asked, in a low tone. 
 
 As Waldegrave, with a sense of relief, turned his glance toward 
 him, be was struck by the change tbat had come over his face. 
 It was that of a man before whom suddenly a ghost had risen 
 the ghost of dead youth and dead love and possible self-reproach 
 at which he looked with grave sorrow. The clear eyes were 
 penetrating as ever, but there was nothing of anger in them as he 
 met his nephew's gaze. 
 
 "I know it," Waldegrave replied, in the same tone, " from the 
 statement of her guardian a statement made reluctantly, and 
 against her desire and easily substantiated by proof, which he 
 spoke of possessing ; but for which I did not ask, since my only 
 surprise on learning the fact was that I had not suspected it be- 
 fore." 
 
 " Her guardian ! " repeated the Prince, with a sharp accent. 
 " Where, then, is her mother ? " 
 
 Waldegrave looked away. He had no desire to see the effect 
 of his reply. 
 
 " Her mother," he answered, " is dead. She died last year, in 
 Paris." 
 
 Silence again and this time a silence in which, besides the 
 murmur of starlit waves, and the soft rustle of leaves, Waldegrave 
 seemed to hear the voice of accusing memory which might 
 speak to a heart long hardened against it. He was not surprised 
 when, after a moment, his uncle rose from his chair and walked 
 away.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 397 
 
 It seemed to him that many minutes passed while he looked 
 out into the flower-laden gloom, and heard behind him the tread 
 of a foot which passed several times across the room before Prince 
 Waldegrave spoke. Presently, without his steps pausing, he 
 said: 
 
 "And how long have you known this girl ? " 
 
 "Waldegrave had to wait an instant to collect his thoughts be- 
 fore he could answer the question. He had absolutely forgotten 
 how long he had known Irene. It appeared to him an indefinite 
 length of time. But, after a brief effort of recollection, he an- 
 swered: 
 
 "I have known her for a month or two as Miss Lescar. But 
 only for a day or two as what she is." 
 
 " Her birth, then, is not generally known ? " 
 
 "NotinEome where she has excited much attention this 
 winter, from her beauty and her many gifts." 
 
 " How did you chance to meet her ? " 
 
 "It was literally chance if, indeed, there is such a thing. I 
 saw her first in the garden of one of the Eoman villas, and was 
 struck by her face as I had never been struck by a woman's face 
 before. Soon afterward I learned her name, and was promised 
 an introduction to her by Lady Dorchester. I did not seek this, 
 however, and our acquaintance finally came about by accident. 
 Then we met on various social occasions, but from the first she 
 evinced a marked repulsion and dislike toward me, which evi- 
 dently had its root in some strong feeling that I was unable to 
 understand. It did not lessen her attraction to me," he added, 
 quietly, " but it lessened what I felt to be the danger of associa- 
 tion with her. It was only during an excursion to Tivoli a few 
 days ago, that I learned the secret of her dislike in learning who 
 she is ; her guardian saying that he did not think it right I should 
 be longer in ignorance, and that only her vehement opposition 
 had prevented my being told before." 
 
 " Who is this guardian ? " 
 
 " His name is Stanhope. He is an American. Until he told 
 me, I had no idea of his connection with Miss Lescar, for she lives 
 and appears socially with a wealthy and attractive woman who is 
 American, I believe, by birth, but English by marriage."
 
 398 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Another pause, and then the Prince still passing backward 
 and forward said, abruptly : 
 
 "What is she like?" 
 
 "That is a difficult question to answer," said Waldegrave, "for 
 she is not in the least like any one else whom I have ever seen. 
 She is altogether original, and infinitely charming. She is very 
 beautiful ; with a rare and noble type of beauty, expressive of 
 intellect, full of poetic grace. And, when you know her, you be- 
 come aware that this beauty is only the fitting shrine for a mind 
 capable of the highest thought, and a spirit cast in the heroic 
 mold ; one that kindles at a noble suggestion, that is vivid in 
 imagination and strong in feeling, that is proud, sensitive, tender, 
 and through its very tenderness capable of passionate resentment." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Prince. The sound seemed to escape him 
 unconsciously. He said nothing more, and "Waldegrave presently 
 went on : 
 
 " She has impressed me in this manner from the first, and ex- 
 ercised over me a fascination against which I have struggled, and 
 to which I had not the least intention of yielding, when I sup- 
 posed her to be simply an American girl, without rank or conse- 
 quence. Only the other day at Tivoli I had resolved and my 
 resolves, as you know, are generally executed that I would not 
 voluntarily see her again ; when the revelation was made, which 
 suddenly brought her, not only within my own rank and pale, 
 but" the speaker paused for a moment, and his voice changed 
 " which gave to love the force of duty." 
 
 The regular tread behind him stopped suddenly, hearing which, 
 the young man rose to his feet, and turning, faced his uncle. So, 
 for an instant, they stood looking at each other in the softly-toned 
 lamp-light, before Prince "Waldegrave said, slowly : 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean," Waldegrave answered, " without intending to cast 
 any reproach on you, that Miss Lescar is the innocent victim of a 
 wrong that shadows all the fair promise of her life ; and that, for 
 the honor of our name, I am glad that I can repair it ; that I can 
 give her, if she will accept it, the place her mother lost." 
 
 There was another pause, and then Prince Waldegrave said, 
 like one from whom the words were sharply wrung :
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 399 
 
 "It is sometimes necessary that, to attain great ends, there 
 must be sacrifice." 
 
 " No end can justify a sacrifice in which honor is lost and jus- 
 tice outraged," was the reply that rose in Waldegrave's mind, but 
 which his lips did not utter. However sternly he might condemn 
 in thought, that sternness could not fail to be tempered in expres- 
 sion by the affection and reverence of years. 
 
 "At least," he said aloud, and his voice was grave and cold, 
 "the end being attained, there is now no reason why wrong 
 should not be repaired as far as possible." 
 
 " "What reparation do you consider possible from me ? " asked 
 the Prince. 
 
 " It is possible," answered Waldegrave, " for you to acknowl- 
 edge your daughter. She is a daughter, believe me, of whom a 
 king might be proud. Understand," he added, quickly, "that I 
 do not ask this on my own behalf. I am thinking solely of Tier 
 and of you, I shall offer her all that is mine my heart, my 
 name, my rank whatever you decide to do ; but it would add 
 very much to my happiness to obtain the sanction of your ap- 
 proval, and to know that you had atoned for an undoubted 
 wrong." 
 
 The voice, at once proud and pleading, sank to the depths of 
 Prince "Waldegrave's heart ; for those were mistaken who said 
 that he had no heart. His fault had been that of towering 
 ambition ; and his indomitable pride had stifled the faintest 
 acknowledgment of wrong, the least outward sign of self-re- 
 proach. But, for all that, self-reproach had existed in the depths 
 of his consciousness, and, since he had parted with the wife who 
 proved an obstacle to the full realization of his ambition, his 
 heart had been kept alive by Otto if by no one else. Now, in the 
 'same hour, he heard that this wife, who had represented all that 
 was noblest and least selfish in his life, had passed for ever beyond 
 the reach of earthly wrong, and Otto came to him asking justice 
 for her daughter. A poignant sense of regret and the power to 
 atone seemed given to him at the same moment ; and like wax 
 the stern heart suddenly melted. 
 
 " If the sanction of my approval will add to your happiness," 
 he said, " it is yours. And my gratitude also. For you enable
 
 400 HEART OF STEEL 
 
 me to repair in some measure what has never lain easily on my 
 conscience, and you make yourself, in a double sense, the son I 
 have long felt you to be." 
 
 With the last words he held out his hand, which Waldegrave 
 clasped. Further speech was unnecessary : they understood each 
 other thoroughly. 
 
 Presently, when they were again sitting at the window, Prince 
 Waldegrave said : 
 
 " She must be very like her mother, who, with all her gentle- 
 ness, had depths of possible resentment. I learned that when, 
 after the dissolution of the marriage, she refused to accept any- 
 thing from me for herself or her daughter. And I had no longer 
 power to insist," he added, with a short sigh. 
 
 " From what Mr. Stanhope tells me," said Waldegrave, " the 
 resentment of the mother was slight to that of the daughter. There 
 is a fiery element in her nature I have seen it more than once 
 which will render it not easy to induce her to forget the past." 
 
 " Yet you hope to do so ? " 
 
 " Yes ; for I have already won something. Except when this 
 memory is revived, when she forgets for the moment my name 
 and its associations, she no longer regards me with dislike. There 
 will be difficulty. That I expect. But difficulty has never daunted 
 me ; and, indeed " he smiled " I do not think I should care for 
 anything that was to be won without it." 
 
 " Understand," said Prince Waldegrave, " that you carry with 
 you not only my approval, but from myself the offer to acknowl- 
 edge, receive, and fitly provide for her as my daughter." He 
 paused a moment before saying, in a lower tone: "The death of 
 the mother removes any possible obstacle to this, and it is what 
 I should be inclined to do, even apart from your wishes. But 
 those wishes make everything easy." 
 
 "It is hardly more than I expected from you," said Walde- 
 grave, "but it increases the gratitude and affection which I have 
 always felt for you. And you can not realize what a daughter 
 you will gain. She is peerless." 
 
 A shade came over the Prince's face. 
 
 " That may be," he said ; " and, for your sake and the sake of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 401 
 
 justice, I shall be glad to welcome her and make all the amende 
 in my power. But for myself, seeing her can only be an occasion 
 of great pain." 
 
 Waldegrave could comprehend this, and for several minutes 
 there was silence. Then his uncle rose. 
 
 " The physicians whom the Princess believes in declare that I 
 sbould retire early as well as dine early," he said; "and so I 
 must bid you good-night. "When do you return to Eome? " 
 
 " I shall start by an early train to-morrow morning," Walde- 
 grave replied, " unless you wish to see me again." 
 
 " I should like to see you again," the Prince said, " but I will 
 not detain you for anything so trifling as political affairs, when 
 you are evidently anxious to be away." 
 
 " My anxiety is not so great that it can not support the delay 
 of a few hours," Waldegrave answered. " I shall certainly not 
 leave, then, until the midday train." 
 
 With this they separated, and, as his uncle retired, Walde- 
 grave, who felt excitement like electricity in every fiber, passed 
 out into the garden. The soft gloom, the odorous breath of the 
 night met him with an exquisite charm, and, for the first time, 
 he surrendered himself wholly to the spell of thoughts and visions 
 which rose in the perfume of every flower, and mingled with the 
 soft music of the sea. Not even in that memorable ride from 
 Tivoli had he felt so much as if moving in an enchanted dream. 
 Then surprise was still overshadowing him, and doubt and strug- 
 gle were before him ; but now everything had been magically 
 smoothed, obstacles had vanished ; it seemed as if in a special 
 manner Fate had interfered in his behalf and that became not 
 only possible, but the most desirable of all possibilities, which a 
 little time before had appeared altogether impossible. He was 
 like one who trod on air : all the romance of passion wakened 
 under the stars of this fair southern night. Irene's proud, deli- 
 cate presence seemed beside him it walked with him down the 
 avenues, dusk with shadow and rich with fragrance ; it paused 
 where the fairy-like fountains laughed and tossed their waters, 
 like Undine, and stood by him on the broad, curved terrace that 
 overlooked the sea. Leaning on the marble balustrade, he gazed 
 out over the starlit waves, while all the influences of the place
 
 402 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 and hour entered into and made a part of his passionate happi- 
 ness happiness so great that it was like exaltation. 
 
 Not to every life does such an hour come, nor can the most 
 favored life know it in perfection more than once. Many con- 
 ditions are needed to produce it, and it is rarely that all of them 
 are fulfilled. But all of them were fulfilled for Waldegrave in 
 this hour, under the divine sky, with the sea of immortal poetry 
 sighing gently at his feet. Fronds of feathery palms were dark 
 ahove his head, across the waves the lights of Nice gleamed like 
 golden stars, there was a sound of oars, and an unseen voice 
 floated over the water in some sweet, familiar strains. Again he 
 fancied the presence he knew and loved leaning beside him over 
 the glistening balustrade, gazing out into the night that seemed to 
 throb with beauty and all the indefinable charm of these enchanted 
 shores. They had stood together in many fair scenes together, 
 and yet apart but here she would be at last in her rightful place, 
 within the shelter of her father's home. It can be said for him 
 that just now he thought more of this than even of all that he 
 hoped and believed might follow. For that is not true love in- 
 deed, it is doubtful if it deserves the name of love at all which 
 does not, above all things, long to secure the beloved object from 
 the harsh touch of suffering. It is more often a longing than a pos- 
 sibility; but, when it is possible, existence does not hold greater de- 
 light. And this was now given to Waldegrave. He never doubted 
 it would be his to lift the shadow of wrong and pain from the 
 life they had so long darkened ; and, looking out into the mag- 
 ical darkness toward the crescent shores of Italy, he sent his heart 
 to those old walls of Rome which he longed to enter. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ON the morning of the day that Waldegrave reached Nice, 
 Irene, standing on the broad platform in front of San Pietro in 
 Montorio, gazed with delighted eyes over the unrivaled scene 
 spread before her. 
 
 Those who know Rome are aware that this church stands on 
 the height of the Janiculum, where the hill rises boldly above the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 403 
 
 Tiber ; that it marks the spot of St. Peter's crucifixion, as the great 
 Vatican basilica of the same name marks the place of his burial 
 and that it is to modern Rome what the Capitol was to ancient 
 Rome, in the extent and variety of the view which the parapet- 
 bounded platform commands. All Rome ancient and modern 
 is spread before the gaze, from the Palatine to the Leonine city, 
 from the Aventine to the Pincio, and from the mountains to the 
 sea. In other places some special era of history be it long or 
 short is recalled to the mind ; but here all history seems to have 
 met and left its record, so that, as the eye passes from one object 
 to another, a gulf of centuries is heaped in a glance. On this fair 
 day of spring every dome and tower, every broken arch and storied 
 ruin stood clearly revealed, with that distinctness of outline which 
 as an effect of the limpid atmosphere distinguishes everything in 
 Italy. The dark height of the Palatine, with its somber ruins, 
 looked over the mediaaval houses thickly clustered between its 
 base and the Tiber ; while above their irregular, many-colored 
 roofs, tbe picturesque campanile of San Giorgio in Velahro rose 
 against the marvelous blue sky, and there was a glimpse of the 
 columns and architrave of its portico. Nearer the river stood tbe 
 graceful round temple of Vesta, with its roof of rugged tiles so 
 dear to artists, and in the river-wall keen eyes might have dis- 
 cerned a circular opening which was none other than the mouth 
 of the Cloaca Maxima, built by Tarquinius Priscus, more than two 
 thousand years ago, to drain the marshy land of the Velabrum, 
 and still serving the purpose for which it was intended. Beyond, 
 the bold, rocky escarpment of the Aventine was crowned by the 
 churches of Santa Sabina, San Alessio, and the Priorato names 
 that echo like the blast of a trumpet from the Ages of Faith. For 
 within the cloisters of Santa Sabina is the cell of St. Dominic, and 
 to its door came the " Angel of the SchooL," * pursued by the en- 
 treaties of the world he was renouncing. And from the Priorato, 
 with its church filled with tombs of the Knights of Malta, what 
 visions rise of the stormy days when those sworn soldiers of the 
 Cross stood with their mailed breasts between Christendom and 
 the infidel power of the East ! 
 
 Then, as Irene let her gaze wander over the maze of streets 
 * St. Thomas Aquinas.
 
 404 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 and houses, of churches and palaces that cover the space between 
 the Tarpeian Rock and the Castle of San Angelo space crowded 
 with objects that open such doors to memory and imagination as 
 no other spot on earth affords she could mark the splendid curve 
 of the Tiber, as sweeping by the Leonine city where another Leo 
 reigns, and where the wondrous dome stood out against a back- 
 ground of the Campagna and the hills, it came flowing past 
 the Trasteverine gardens white with blossoms ; past the great 
 gateway of the Orsini Palace with its sculptured bears; past the 
 classic isle of the Tiber, which ancient tradition tells was born 
 from the produce of the corn-fields of the Tarquins ; past the 
 noble tower which alone remains of the castle built on this island 
 by the family of St. Gregory the Great, and occupied as a fortress 
 by the Countess Matilda, the heroic defender of the Holy See ; 
 past those massive fragments of masonry which are the tokens 
 and remnants of the Pons Sublicim, the oldest bridge in Rome, 
 that which Horatius and his two companions " kept " against the 
 Etruscan army ; and past those gigantic heads of lions, half hid- 
 den by shrubs and ivy on the Trastevere bank, from which in 
 ancient times chains were drawn across the stream to prevent the 
 advance of hostile vessels until, at last escaping from the mighty 
 walls, the current takes its way rejoicing through green fields 
 toward that distant shining line where the sea breaks in many a 
 long, curling wave on the Ostian beach. 
 
 "I should like to know of what you are thinking, mademoi- 
 selle," said a voice, speaking so close beside Irene that she started 
 perceptibly as she turned to meet the dark eyes of the Marquis de 
 Chateaumesnil. 
 
 " I am afraid that I have startled you," he continued ; " but I 
 have been standing here for several minutes, and you were so un- 
 conscious of my presence that the desire to know the subject of 
 your thoughts became irresistible." 
 
 " I should have no objection to telling them to yon," she an- 
 swered, smiling, "but you would probably not be interested." 
 
 "Try me, at least." 
 
 " But where shall I begin ? " she asked. " I have thought of 
 so much: there is so much to suggest thought in what lies before 
 us. Perhaps I began with Lars Porsenna. I fancied him stand-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 405 
 
 ing here, watching the three who kept the bridge against his 
 array. He must have had a noble heart. You remember when 
 Horatius plunged into the Tiber 
 
 " ' Eeaven save him,' said Lars Porsenna, 
 
 4 And bring him safe to shore, 
 For such a gallant feat of arms 
 Was never seen before ! ' " 
 
 "That, however, is not exactly history," suggested the Mar- 
 quis, smiling. 
 
 But Irene did not choose to heed this. " It is what a brave 
 heart would have felt," she said, " and I am sure he must have 
 uttered something equivalent to it. At least, you will not deny 
 that he was here and the bridge there, that Horatius held it ' in 
 the brave days of old,' and that not all Etruria's army could put 
 the Tarquins back in Rome." 
 
 "Believe me, I have not the least inclination to deny it," he 
 said. " And what did you think of next? " 
 
 " There was much to think of," she answered, " but I could 
 not dwell on it. My mind passed over all the long centuries 
 which lay between those dim early days and the broad light of 
 another day when two Jewish prisoners, apostles of a strange 
 faith, were led along the road that winds yonder at the foot of 
 the Aventine and out of the Ostian Gate, as companions in mar- 
 tyrdom. We know where they parted, where one was led to 
 suffer by the sword,* while the other was brought here to be cru- 
 cified. Can you not fancy the scene on which he looked ? the 
 imperial city as it flashed back the sunlight that midsummer day 
 the palace of Ca?sar covering the Palatine, the great temple of 
 Jupiter on the Capitoline, the hills crowded with dwellings, the 
 Campus Martius covered with temples, porticoes, and columns 1 
 Would it not have seemed a wild dream that, through the power 
 of the keys given to the poor prisoner dying here, it was to rule 
 the world in a far deeper, wider sense than ever before ? that it 
 was to be through all ages the See of Peter ? " 
 
 " You remind me," said the Marquis, " of a curious fact the 
 
 * St. Paul, as a Roman citizen, was beheaded about two miles from 
 Rome, on the road to Ostia, at a place now called the " Tre Fontanc."
 
 406 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 name Koma, which comes down from the old Pelasgio days and 
 signifies Strength, is with the letters placed in inverted order 
 Amor, which is Love. It is as if from the very foundation of 
 that mighty power which was to rule the world by strength, its 
 name contained a prophecy of the mightier power that should 
 succeed it and rule the world by love." 
 
 She looked at him with kindling eyes. The beauty of the 
 thought touched her like a strain of noble harmony. 
 
 "That is exquisite," she said. "I never thought of it before, 
 although I knew the signification of the name. But " she looked 
 round with a sudden air of recollection " Mrs. Vance is waiting 
 for me in the church. We came here to an interesting function, 
 
 of which Monsignor K told me last night, and when it was 
 
 over Mrs. Yance went in search of a sacristan to show us the 
 chapels and cloister, while I ran out for some warm air and the 
 glorious view. I must go to her now." 
 
 "And I may come with you? " 
 
 " Certainly, if you care to do so." 
 
 The Marquis plainly cared. He turned and walked by her side 
 across the terrace to the door of the church, where at this moment 
 Mrs. Vance appeared. 
 
 " My dear Irene," she said, " where have you been ? " Then, 
 recognizing her companion " Oh, M. le Marquis, I was not 
 aware that you were here ! " 
 
 "I have not been here long, madame," the Marquis answered. 
 " Returning from a ride in the grounds of the Villa Pamfili-Doria, 
 I halted for the view, which I always admire ; and, seeing Made- 
 moiselle Lescar, I dismounted and joined her. But, though I 
 often pause on this terrace, I am not very well acquainted with 
 the interior of the church. Therefore, if you will permit me to 
 join you, I shall be glad." 
 
 " We shall be very happy," said Mrs. Vance, graciously. 
 
 Then they went into the church, where the sacristan was 
 waiting for them a picture of calm, resigned patience. There 
 are few more pathetic figures than these Roman sacristans. Fre- 
 quently they are monks some humble lay-brother, with the 
 simplicity and gentleness of a child, his worn face telling a story 
 of hardship and care, which might, one would think, disarm the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 407 
 
 most virulent prejudice. The hand of persecution is heavy upon 
 them. With lawless robbery the government has confiscated all 
 their revenues accumulations of the piety of generations and 
 property, to which the state had no more right than to the 
 private estate of any individual. But retribution, though it travel 
 "with a leaden heel," yet strikes "with an iron hand"; and the 
 terrible cry of Communism, of war against all rights of property, 
 is sounding like thunder in the ears of those who, in their own 
 persons or in those of their ancestors, have laid sacrilegious hands 
 upon the property of the Church. "We can rob God with 
 impunity," these rulers have seemed to think for many a long 
 day. But "God," says St. Augustine, "is patient, because eter- 
 nal." Not in an hour, a day, a century, are his judgments 
 wrought. He suffers the seed sown by men to ripen to their 
 full evil harvest ; and it is only by looking back across the cen- 
 turies that we can trace the beginning of the fire now under- 
 mining Europe with such fearful rapidity. 
 
 They made the round of the chapels, with their frescoes and 
 pictures by Sebastian del Piombo, by Yesari and Volterra ; they 
 marked the place over the high altar where the great Trans- 
 figuration of Raphael which was painted for this church hung, 
 until carried to Paris at the time of the French invasion by that 
 chief of robbers, Napoleon, and which was placed in the Vatican 
 gallery when returned to Rome with the great freebooter's other 
 spoils ; and, finally, they went into the cloister, where the Tem- 
 pietto a small domed building resting on Doric columns, a model 
 of architectural beauty marks the exact spot of St. Peter's cruci- 
 fixion. 
 
 The thoughts which rise in the mind, the feelings which fill 
 the heart here, are indescribable. Across the mighty gulf of 
 centuries we almost seem to touch the robe of him to whom the 
 tender yet solemn voice of his Lord said: "When thou wast 
 younger thou didst gird thyself and walk where thon wouldst. 
 But when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands 
 and another shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou wouldst 
 not." "And this," explains St. John, "he said, signifying by 
 what death he should glorify God. And when he had said this, 
 he saith to him, ' Follow me.' " And here was where he followed
 
 408 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 him! in deep humility, with head turned toward the earth, 
 alleging that he was not worthy to suffer in the same nlanner as 
 his divine Master had suffered. O wonderful Fisherman of 
 Galilee, perfected out of so much human weakness and lovahle 
 impetuosity into the Prince and Euler of God's Church, thou 
 who wast made the rock against which the gates of hell shall 
 not prevail, thou to whom were given the keys of the kingdom of 
 heaven, thou to whom was spoken the solemn charge, "Feed my 
 sheep," on what untold glory must not thine eyes have opened, 
 when on this spot they closed upon the fair Italian sky and the 
 glittering splendor of the mistress of the world! 
 
 When they re-entered the church from the cloister and were 
 slowly walking down its long nave, Irene paused and directed the 
 attention of the Marquis to the gravestones which mark the 
 resting-place of Tyrconnel and Tyrone. "After all," she said, 
 "do adversity and exile greatly matter? How soon it is all 
 over!" 
 
 "And how long it has been since these laid down their 
 burden ! " he remarked, looking at the date. " What a sublime 
 thing it is that in all ages there has been this city of refuge for 
 Christian exiles, that they could bring their wrongs and sorrows 
 here, where all things speak of the brevity of human injustice 
 and the steadfastness of eternal truth! " 
 
 Irene looked at him with a wistful expression. 
 
 "Yes, it is well to be here," she said. "Even those who 
 have not lost kingdoms and crowns may find a home of the soul 
 when life offers them no other, and gain wisdom by meditating 
 among these speaking tombs. I wish that I could hope to be 
 buried in a Roman church," she ended, with a faint smile. 
 
 " I hope that it may be long before you need a tomb," said 
 the Marquis. 
 
 She did not answer ; she was again looking down at the grave- 
 stones which cover the hearts that once beat so high, the brains 
 that once planned so daringly, the empty shell of the spirits that 
 risked so much and suffered so keenly. 
 
 "In Aubrey de Vere's 'Urbs Roma,'" she said, "there is a 
 sonnet which I never come here without recalling." And in a 
 voice with a pathetic thrill she repeated :
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 409 
 
 u ' Within St. Peter's fane, that kindly hearth 
 Where exiles crowned their earthly loads down cast, 
 The Scottish kings * repose, their wanderings past, 
 In death more royal thrice than in their birth. 
 Near them, within a church of narrower girth, 
 But with dilated memories yet more vast, 
 Sad Ulster's princes find their rest at last, 
 Their home the holiest spot, save one, on earth. 
 This is that mount which saw St. Peter die ! 
 Where stands yon dome stood once that cross reversed : 
 From this dread hill, a Western Calvary, 
 The empire and that synagogue accursed 
 Clashed two ensanguined hands like Cain in one. 
 Sleep, where the Apostle slept, Tyrconnel and Tyrone ! ' " 
 
 Silence followed the last fall of her tones silence which was 
 the best tribute and after a moment they moved on. But when 
 they came out again into the soft air, with the fair city at their 
 feet, the wide historic plain and the blue distance of magic heights 
 afar, the Marquis said : 
 
 " It is as great a pleasure to hear you repeat poetry as to hear 
 you sing. Your voice says so much it would put noble meaning 
 into common words." 
 
 "But those are not common words," she said. 
 
 " No certainly not. But the voice is more than any words," 
 he answered. 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Yance, coming up, " I think we had bet- 
 ter go now especially if you want to stop in the Trastevere." 
 
 " May I ask where you mean to stop in the Trastevere ? " the 
 Marquis inquired, as they turned toward the waiting carriage. 
 
 "At Santa Cecilia," answered Mrs. Vance. " It is a church 
 of which Irene is so fond, that she is never in the neighborhood 
 without going there." 
 
 " I am sure that I ought to have a special devotion to the 
 
 ' . . . seraph-haunted queen of harmony,' " 
 said Irene, with a smile. 
 
 "And I am sure she must reward it by obtaining for your 
 
 * James II, his son, and grandson, are buried in St. Peter's.
 
 410 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 voice something of the sweetness that we are told her own pos- 
 sessed," said the Marquis. Then, as he put them into the carriage, 
 he added, "It is an interesting church, Santa Cecilia, is it not? " 
 
 " Very interesting," answered Mrs. Vance. " Will you not 
 come with us ? " 
 
 " "With your permission, I will follow and meet you there," he 
 replied. And, as they drove away, they saw him beckoning a 
 man who held his horse. 
 
 In the carriage there was silence for a minute. Then Mrs. 
 Vance said, " I think, my dear, that the Marquis likes your so- 
 ciety." 
 
 "And I," said Ir&ne with a laugh, " certainly like his. I have 
 always found him very simpatico." 
 
 To this Mrs. Vance made no reply ; and it was not long he- 
 fore the carriage paused at the door of the ancient church founded 
 upon and still retaining part of the dwelling of the noble Koman 
 lady who confessed God so valiantly sixteen hundred years ago, 
 and here received the crown of martyrdom. We stand on the 
 threshold of the palace where, as the antiphon which is sung on 
 her festival says, " Cecilia, thy servant, served thee, O Lord, as 
 the bee that is never idle " ; where the beautiful tradition tells that 
 angels often descended to join in her songs of praise, and where 
 by order of the prefect who feared to bring to public execution 
 one of such high rank and exalted virtue she was imprisoned in 
 the sudatorium of her own bath and a blazing fire lighted, in or- 
 der that she might be suffocated by the hot vapors. But " when 
 the bath was opened she was found still alive, singing with rav- 
 ishing sweetness the praises of God who had sent a cooling shower 
 to temper the heat." A lictor was then sent to behead her, but 
 he performed his duty so ill that she still lived after the third 
 stroke; and Koman law forbade that a victim should be stricken 
 more than three times. So the Christians found her bathed in 
 her blood ; and during three days she preached and taught, like a 
 doctor of the church, with such sweetness and eloquence that 
 four hundred pagans were converted. She was visited by Pope 
 Urban, "to whom she bequeathed the poor she had nourished 
 and the palace in which she had lived, that it might be conse- 
 crated as a temple to her Saviour. Then thanking God that he
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 411 
 
 considered her, a humble woman, worthy to share the glory of 
 his heroes, and with her eyes fixed upon the heavens opening 
 before her, she departed to her heavenly bridegroom in the year 
 of our Lord 280." 
 
 The Marquis joined Mrs. Vance and Irene as they descended 
 from the carriage, and together they entered the ancient atrium 
 with its antique pillars and frieze of mosaic. It was noon, and a 
 glory of sunlight was glancing along the polished marble, and giv- 
 ing a new aureole to the medallion heads of Cecilia, Pope Urban, 
 Valerian, and Tiburtius, which appear in the old mosaic. But 
 there was no sunlight in the cool, dim church when, lifting the 
 heavy leathern curtain, they entered. The broad nave spread 
 before them, its massive columns forming a vista for the eye, at 
 the end of which rose the tribune, the richly carved altar, and 
 beautiful Gothic canopy. Lamps of chased silver were burning 
 around it, and was it a vision, that exquisite sleeping form be- 
 neath, or had the saint returned to dwell humbly under the altar, 
 in the house which she gave to God ? 
 
 In the archives of the Vatican there is an account written by 
 Pope Paschal I himself, describing how, " yielding to the infirm- 
 ity of the flesh," he fell asleep in his chair during the early morn- 
 ing-service at St. Peter's, his mind preoccupied with a longing to 
 find the burial-place of Cecilia and discover her relics. Then, in 
 a glorified vision, the saint appeared to him and revealed the spot 
 where she lay in the catacomb of Calixtus, and there on the fol- 
 lowing day her body was found and transported to her church. 
 This was in the ninth century. In the sixteenth, Sfondrato, titu- 
 lar cardinal of the church, opened her tomb, and the embalmed 
 body was found, as it had previously been found by Paschal, robed 
 in gold tissue, with linen cloths steeped in blood at her feet, not 
 lying upon the back, like a body in a tomb, but upon its right 
 side, with every appearance of sleep. "All the people of Rome 
 rushed to look upon the saint, who was afterward inclosed as she 
 was found, in a shrine of cypress-wood cased in silver. But, be- 
 fore she was again hidden from sight, the greatest artist of the 
 day, Stefano Maderno, was called in to sculpture the marble por- 
 trait which now lies upon her tomb." 
 
 "Who that has seen can forget this lovely statue ? The perfect
 
 412 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 position of the limbs, the beautifully modeled drapery, the delicate 
 hands lightly crossed at the wrists, the wound in the slender neck, 
 the ineffable purity which breathes in every line, all stamp it as 
 no work of human inspiration. " Behold," says the inscription, 
 " the body of the most holy virgin, Cecilia, whom I myself saw 
 lying incorrupt in her tomb. I have in this marble expressed for 
 thee the same saint in the very same posture of body." And so, 
 under the altar the beautiful figure lies, while around burn ever 
 the ninety-six silver lamps given to the shrine by Cardinal Sfon- 
 drato, whose own tomb is in this church. 
 
 There are delightful hours to be spent in these old Roman 
 churches, rich with beauty and richer still in imperishable memo- 
 ries. Hundreds of years pass before these altars, " like a watch in 
 the night " ; the floors are worn with the feet of unnumbered gen- 
 erations who have passed over them ; the shrines are enriched by 
 the love and faith of hearts that have been still for ages ; the air 
 seems filled with the incense of unceasing prayer ; the roar and 
 fret of the world die away into a peace that has in it the quiet 
 of centuries, the promise of eternity. 
 
 After lingering before the statue, IrSne carried her companion 
 into the sudatorium, which still retains the pipes and calorifers of 
 an ancient Roman bath. The sacristan, pleased by her eager in- 
 terest, explained everything minutely in soft-voweled Italian, and 
 ran his taper far down to show the extent of the black furnace 
 underneath. It was a picture, the Marquis thought the beautiful 
 girl kneeling on the iron grating in order to look into the dark 
 depths below, the monk in his picturesque habit, with his ani- 
 mated face and close-shorn head, the taper flashing fitfully, the 
 dim old walls making just the background a painter would have 
 chosen for the scene. 
 
 "When they stood again in the atrium, he said to her: "You 
 must let me thank you for the pleasure of this morning. To be 
 with you in such places is a greater pleasure than you can imagine. 
 It gives one new eyes with which to regard even familiar things, 
 for I do not think there is a ray of present sunlight, or a memory 
 of past glory, that does not enter into your delight," 
 
 " I am glad if it is so," she answered, simply. " When I see 
 people who can neither enjoy nor appreciate, it seems to me that,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 413 
 
 among the things for which we should be most grateful, the power 
 to enjoy and appreciate does not rank least. But you, M. le Mar- 
 q u j s s he looked at him with a smile "you possess the faculty 
 yourself/' 
 
 "When I am with you yes," he replied. "But it is a re- 
 flected light. It does not stay." 
 
 " And is there no spell by which one could make it stay ? " 
 she asked, still smiling. 
 
 What was there in his glance that struck her suddenly with a 
 sense of sadness ? 
 
 "None," he answered, gravely. "Sunshine that stays must 
 come from within, not from without." 
 
 Certainly it had all vanished from his aspect when, having put 
 Mrs. Vance and herself again into their carriage, he stood for a 
 moment as they drove away. Material sunlight was pouring into 
 the narrow street, lighting up the front of the picturesque medi- 
 aeval house which faces the church, and bringing out the effect of 
 many a curious bit of architecture and tone of color along the 
 way which his eye followed. But it is doubtful if he saw any of 
 it. As the carriage disappeared, he turned and walked toward 
 his horse with a face grave to sternness. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MBS. FALCONEK soon heard of the events of the morning. 
 Irene mentioned at luncheon that the Marquis had joined them 
 at San Pietro, and accompanied them to Santa Cecilia; and, al- 
 though Mrs. Vance endeavored to appear absorbed in a salad 
 which she was mixing, her expression of face was hardly less sig- 
 nificant than the fact. Mrs. Falconer observed it, smiled slightly, 
 and at the first opportunity afterward said to her : 
 
 " So, you are like every one else, Aunt Marian ! You per- 
 ceive that M. de Chateaumesnil has lost his heart to Irene, and 
 you have not the least idea of giving me a friendly hint to that 
 effect." 
 
 " My dear Sydney ! " ejaculated Mrs. Vance. She could not 
 for a moment say anything more, so entirely did this sudden at-
 
 414: HEAET OF STEEL. 
 
 tack, this plain utterance of what was only a dawning suspicion in 
 her own mind, confound her. Then she made an altogether un- 
 necessary statement. "You astonish me! " she said. " I have 
 never dreamed of such a thing. I have noticed that he likes her 
 society and this morning, for the first time, it occurred to me 
 that he showed the liking very plainly, perhaps a little too plain- 
 ly but it did not occur to me that a man of the world like the 
 Marquis could lose his heart to a girl like Irene." 
 
 " Yet it is with just such a girl that he would be likely to lose 
 his heart, if he lost it at all," said Mrs. Falconer, calmly. " She 
 is unlike other women whom he has known, and she has the 
 charm, not only of her character and of her rare beauty, but of 
 her youth." 
 
 " I think it possible to overrate the charm of youth," said Mrs. 
 Vance. " It is generally such a crude thing that it could not, in 
 itself, attract a man of fastidious taste." 
 
 " In itself no," answered Mrs. Falconer. " But Irene's is the 
 ideal youth the youth of genius full of bright fancies and high 
 aspirations. And she has proved so attractive to M. de Chateau- 
 mesnil because he is a man of noble nature, to whom these fancies 
 and aspirations are like the sight of morning to a poet." 
 
 " Then you really believe that he has lost his heart ? " 
 
 " I really believe it ; and it increases my respect for him to 
 find that he has a heart to lose." 
 
 " But, my dear Sydney, I thought that he that you that he 
 was your suitor." 
 
 " You thought right. He was he probably still is my suitor. 
 But he has never professed to be my lover." 
 
 " And yet you have thought of marrying him ? " 
 
 " Yes I have thought of it. But more on his account than 
 my own because I felt that, with the power which wealth gives 
 me, I might be of use to him ; and, as it is, I am of use to no 
 one." The last words were uttered a little sadly, and she paused 
 a moment before adding : "I was the more inclined to accept his 
 suit because he made no protestation of devotion. It was mariage 
 de convenance that he offered, and mariage de convenance that I 
 have been endeavoring to persuade myself to accept." 
 
 "Then," said Mrs. Vance, with energy, "I am glad that he
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 415 
 
 has fallen in love with Irene ! I am old-fashioned enough to hold 
 such marriages to be abominable. And for you, Sydney, you " 
 
 " I, who once had different dreams, you mean ? " said the other, 
 with a faint smile. " Ah, it does not require many years of life 
 to show one that such dreams are best put away. The choice 
 rests between that and being deceived to the end. I preferred 
 the first and so I felt that I might make up my mind to marry a 
 man who was indifferent to me ; who belongs to a world which 
 regards marriage as something with which sentiment has little to 
 do. But I can not marry a man who, whether he knows it or 
 not, is in love with some one else." 
 
 " I should think not, indeed ! " said Mrs. Vance, in a tone of 
 indignation. " But M. de Chateaumesnil has acted very badly in 
 fulling in love with some one else while filling the position of 
 your suitor." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer smiled. "I do not lay claim to many virtues," 
 she said, " but one which I hope I do possess is a sense of justice. 
 I can not blame M. de Chateaumesnil for what I am sure has over- 
 taken him in his own despite. He has nothing to gain and much 
 to lose by such a passion." 
 
 " Most women in your place would blame him, nevertheless," 
 said Mrs. Vance, " and not only him but IrSne." 
 
 Sydney looked surprised. " Could any one possibly be un- 
 reasonable enough to attach blame to Irene ? " she asked. 
 
 Mrs. Vance rose suddenly, went over and kissed her. 
 
 " I don't know how much justice you can lay claim to," she 
 said. " But I do know that you are the most generous-hearted 
 woman in the world. Say what you please, there are few women 
 who would not feel it hard to find a rival in a girl to whom " 
 
 "So much the worse for most women, then!" interrupted 
 Mrs. Falconer, who had a great objection to what she knew was 
 coming an allusion to her kindness. "And 'rival' is an in- 
 correct word. One can not have a rival when there is no rivalry. 
 Now, there is not a man on earth whom I would condescend to 
 rivalry about. If a man offers his allegiance to me whatever 
 its quality or degree it must be absolute. If it wavers, he may 
 go." 
 
 " But you could not feel that if he had won your heart."
 
 416 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " I should feel it if he had won my heart as completely as ever 
 heart was won. If it were in my power to retain a wavering 
 allegiance, I should scorn to make an effort to do so." 
 
 "Ah," said Mrs. Vance, with a sigh, "you have a haughty 
 spirit. I am afraid you will never find a heart that satisfies you." 
 
 "Then I can do without it," was the quiet answer. "There 
 are other things in life worth living for, and in the end more satis- 
 fying. There are few hearts worth possessing and fewer still 
 worth holding. But, so far as I am concerned, there is no ques- 
 tion of M. de Chateaumesnil's heart. It has never been offered 
 to me. All that now remains for me to do is to decline his 
 hand." 
 
 Mrs. Vance's face fell. It was evident that, despite her hasty 
 assertions of gladness a moment hack, she was disappointed. 
 
 " It is a pity," she murmured. " If you feel in this way about 
 hearts if you are really indifferent to love it would have been 
 a marriage that would suit you." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Falconer, smiling slightly. ' : I should have 
 made a very charming Marquise de Chateaumesnil, and had the 
 pleasure of gratifying all my friends besides. But that is over ; 
 and the best thing now is to end the matter as soon as possible." 
 
 The last words had hardly left her lips when Antonio appeared 
 with a card, which he presented to her. She glanced at it, then 
 held it out to her aunt. 
 
 " A singular coincidence, is it not ? " she said. " Le Marquis 
 de Chateaumesnil " was what met Mrs. Vance's eye. She sighed 
 again, with a sense 'of regret, and also of slight trepidation. 
 "Shall you see him ? " she asked. 
 
 " Of course," answered Mrs. Falconer, rising as she spoke. 
 " It is what I desire." 
 
 Mrs. Vance's trepidation found something of an echo in the 
 Marquis's breast as he stood in the grand sala waiting for Mrs. 
 Falconer. It is doubtful if in all his life before any occasion had 
 found him with so little inclination for what lay before him. But, 
 after parting with Irene in the morning, his colloquy with himself 
 had been short and sharp. For the first time he recognized where 
 he stood or, at least, where he was drifting and he felt that
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 417 
 
 there was but one course open to him. That was to ask Mrs. 
 Falconer's answer to his suit, and, if she accepted him, to close 
 his eyes to the fact that such a person as Irene Lescar existed in 
 the world. It would be hard ; but a sense of honor has helped 
 many a man over a road as hard and the Marquis had not an in- 
 stant's doubt where honor lay, or what its counsel was. 
 
 Naturally, however, the prospect of such a struggle was not 
 cheerful, and he was blaming himself for having been persuaded 
 by his cousin to place himself in the position he occupied, as he 
 walked to and fro across the sola. But it was impossible he could 
 have foreseen, or could even have imagined, such a resurrection 
 of his youth as this. A few months before, anything would have 
 seemed to him more probable than that he could ever know again 
 the passion which contains in itself the very essence of youth, 
 lie might appreciate, he might admire, he might offer the most 
 sincere homage, but (he would have thought) the capability of 
 ideal feeling, the spell of illusion, had for ever departed. And 
 now 
 
 He found himself suddenly pausing before a new addition to 
 the works of art which filled the apartment. It was a copy in 
 marble of Erne's rilieto. Thrown out by the sweeping folds of a 
 rich curtain of bronze-green velvet behind it, the beauty of the 
 sculpture was striking, and the likeness not less so. The noble 
 brow, the fine spiritual lines of the face, the exquisitely curved lips, 
 were Irene's own and hers, also, the classic grace infused into 
 every line. It might have been some freshly disinterred fragment 
 of antique art a Greek dream of "violet-crowned Sappho" so 
 closely did the type and spirit approach that of antique ideals. 
 
 The Marquis stood as if fascinated. It was the head of a Muse ; 
 but he knew that it was also the head of one who could be touched 
 by the simplest as well as by the loftiest things, whom imagina- 
 tion had not misled nor intellect hardened, and whose brilliant 
 powers were less striking than the sympathy which leaped like 
 flame in response to every noble thought or heroic memory. And 
 while he stood, recalling the tones of the voice which had sounded 
 in his ears that morning on the Janiculum, and in the church of 
 Santa Cecilia, he did not perceive the figure which came down 
 the suite of apartments behind him, nor hear the step which ap-
 
 418 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 preached his side. It was not until Mrs. Falconer spoke that he 
 was aware of her presence. 
 
 " An admirable likeness, M. le Marquis is it not ? " 
 
 "It is perfect," he replied, taming around, "and a very strik- 
 ing piece of sculpture besides. Can it possibly be Mr. Erne's 
 work?" 
 
 " Yes, it is his," she answered. " I think it very remarkable 
 for so young a sculptor and one who is more dilettante than 
 artist. But there may be an explanation of his success in the 
 fact that he found in the face an inspiration as well as a model." 
 
 "Ah! " said the Marquis. "Such a face might well prove an 
 inspiration to an artist." 
 
 " And even to those who are not artists," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 " I am never surprised by any degree of admiration for Irdne I 
 admire her so enthusiastically myself. Therefore you may imag- 
 ine that I am delighted to have this likeness in the form that her 
 likeness ought to take. That head seems made for marble." 
 
 The Marquis replied that he could imagine it ; but, naturally, 
 Irene's beauty was a subject on which he did not care to dilate. 
 He had come for quite another purpose, and he felt as if a malig- 
 nant fate had put her sculptured presentment before him and 
 made it the opening topic of conversation. As Mrs. Falconer 
 sat down, he turned from the marble and placed his chair so as 
 to leave it behind him. With that haunting face before his eyes 
 he would have found it difficult to utter what he was determined 
 should be uttered. 
 
 The savoir-faire of the man of the world came to his assist- 
 ance, however, and his manner was altogether perfect as he re- 
 called to Mrs. Falconer her promise to consider his suit, and 
 begged for her answer. 
 
 She was silent for a moment not with the confused silence 
 on which a suitor might found hope, but with the calm silence of 
 deliberation. Then she looked at him with an expression which 
 he did not understand. 
 
 " You have been very patient," she said, gravely, " and I do 
 not ask you to pardon the length of time I have taken for consid- 
 eration, because we are agreed that marriage is a very serious 
 affair, and because this delay has served the purpose for which I
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 419 
 
 wished it. If I had answered you when yon did me the honor of 
 offering me your hand, I should have felt, whatever my answer, 
 many doubts. Delay has solved those doubts. I can now answer 
 you decidedly." 
 
 She paused and the Marquis felt as a man does who braces 
 himself to receive the sentence of a court. But in the tension of 
 suspense he forgot that some expression of hope or eagerness 
 might have been expected from him. The slender, nervous hand 
 tightened on the rim of the bat he was holding, the dark eyes re- 
 garded her steadily that was all. 
 
 She smiled a little, and went on her calm voice unshaken in 
 a single tone : 
 
 " I think I told you that I was tempted by what you offered 
 not so much by your rank, though I am not foolish enough to un- 
 dervalue its great distinction and advantage, as by the opportunity 
 to aid in noble ends, to make the wealth with which I am bur- 
 dened of use in the highest manner, and to find an outlet for my 
 sympathy, a field for my ambition. All this you offered me in 
 offering me your hand. But there is something else that ought 
 to be concerned in marriage which you did not offer that is, 
 your heart." 
 
 Her clear glance was searching him through as she uttered the 
 last words, and she could see how great was his surprise at the 
 altogether unlooked-for conclusion. But, although surprised, he 
 was not discomposed. 
 
 " In offering you my hand," he said, " I was also offering you 
 the most sincere homage of my heart that homage of admiration 
 and respect which in France we hold to be the best foundation 
 for married happiness. It does not take wings like the wild pas- 
 sion on which no wise man would desire to build his life." 
 
 "I said that to myself," she answered, "and though I was 
 trained in a different school one which holds love to be the only 
 true consecration of marriage I was able to recognize the prac- 
 tical wisdom of the basis of which you speak. And I felt the 
 more inclined to it because love has only entered my life to pain 
 and cheat me. I thought that, if you did not offer me your heart, 
 it was because you had exhausted the power of passionate feeling, 
 and were too honest to simulate it. I believed that what you did
 
 420 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 offer honor, respect, admiration was, at least, the best which 
 you had. Was I right in believing that ? " 
 
 " You were right," he replied. " I believed then I believe 
 still that the tribute of a man's dispassionate judgment is worth 
 more than the emotion (generally founded upon illusion) of his 
 heart." 
 
 " It may be," she said, " but believe me, it is a doctrine that 
 will never plead your cause with a woman. I might have listened 
 to it for, as I have said, my experience of love has been very bit- 
 ter but it would surely in the end have been to your and to my 
 lasting regret. That, however, is not the point. The point is, 
 can you give me the same assurance now ? can you tell me to- 
 day, M. le Marquis, that you offer me your best ? " 
 
 There was no indignation in the voice, no anger in the violet 
 eyes only a ring of challenge in the first, a proud light in the 
 last. It was a challenge which M. de Chateaumesnil found it diffi- 
 cult to meet. He had not anticipated this, and he was forced to 
 hesitate before replying. Then he said, gravely: 
 
 " I should not be here if I could not still offer you what I be- 
 lieve to be best the tribute of my judgment, the admiration of 
 my mind, the homage of my taste." 
 
 " But not the love of your heart," she said, " and I being 
 only a woman hold that best. Yet I grant that one must not 
 ask more than a man can give ; and if you were incapable of giv- 
 ing it, I might be satisfied with the tribute of your judgment and 
 the homage of your taste. But you are not incapable. I have 
 read your heart for some time and, if you do not know what 
 image it holds, I will tell you." 
 
 He looked at her startled somewhat, puzzled more. It was 
 a fair face which confronted him fair at all times, but just now 
 particularly charming from its animation. The proud light was 
 still in the eyes, but the lips were smiling. As he did not reply, 
 she lifted her hand and pointed to the marble behind him. 
 
 " It is that," she said. 
 
 " I suppose that you allude to my admiration for Mademoi- 
 selle Lescar," he said, after a moment; "but have you not leaped 
 to a hasty conclusion in imagining that what I feel for her must 
 be love? I acknowledge that she is singularly attractive, that
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 421 
 
 she has stirred my fancy as it has not been stirred for many a day 
 but I know that fancy forms no staple of life ; and you know 
 that one is often attracted even fascinated by rare and brilliant 
 people, whom it does not therefore follow that one loves." 
 
 She regarded him steadily before replying. Then she said : 
 "And is that what you are telling yourself that you are attracted, 
 that you are fascinated, but that you do not love? I can only say 
 that such subtilty is too fine for me. What I have seen in your 
 eyes when you looked at her, what I have heard in your voice 
 when you spoke to her, was either love or the most exact of coun- 
 terfeits. And you mistake when you say that I have leaped to 
 this conclusion. I was determined not to act hastily I have 
 waited, I have observed closely observed. Even in my thoughts 
 I would not do you injustice though, understand, that I do not 
 blame you in the least. I am sure that this fascination has over- 
 taken you against your will, in despite of your judgment." 
 
 " Yon are as wise as you are kind," he said. " It is true. To- 
 day for^the first time I have recognized its power, and the sharp- 
 est sting was in the thought of apparent disloyalty to you." 
 
 " Therefore, a sentiment of honor brought you here at once," 
 she said. "I appreciate that. But I am too proud I hope also 
 too wise to take your name and rank when the heart which did 
 not waken for me has wakened for another. I am glad that the 
 recognition of this was neither a shock nor a pain to me. I am 
 glad also very glad that in declining the honor of your hand I 
 do not wound your heart. "We have both been on the brink of a 
 great mistake. Let us be grateful that we have not made it." 
 
 " For myself I can not think that it would have been a mis- 
 take," he said, touched exceedingly by the sweetness of her voice 
 and smile. " But I have no alternative save to bow to your de- 
 cision." 
 
 " Believe me, it is best," she said. " You have learned that 
 the heart which you fancied dead is not dead /have learned 
 that I dare not make a manage de contenance. So let us part 
 friends." 
 
 "Always friends, I trust," he said. Then he rose, lifted the 
 hand which she extended to his lips, and left the room. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer remained standing where he left her, gazing
 
 422 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 fixedly at the serene grace of the sculptured face before her. She 
 saw as in a vision all that her life might have heen had that face 
 not crossed her path. The high rank, the nohle old name, the 
 personal charm and brilliant powers of the Marquis had never 
 appealed to her imagination with such a sense of attraction as 
 now when she had renounced them and all that they put within 
 her reach. There flashed across her mind the thought, " What if 
 I had listened to Mr. Stanhope's warning that day at Versailles ! " 
 Was it, indeed, an evil fate that she had brought under her roof 
 a fate to stand between her and the realization of all that her am- 
 bition had dreamed ? She had hardly asked the question when a 
 revulsion of feeling came. "I am free," she said aloud with an 
 exultant accent. Then she walked tip to the rilievo and left a 
 kiss on the marble brow. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 "AND so, mon ami, you see that the matter is over," said the 
 Marquis. 
 
 He spoke with quiet philosophy ; but Stanhope, to whom the 
 words were addressed, frowned. 
 
 "I see," he replied, "that you left Mrs. Falconer no alterna- 
 tive but to act as she has done. But whether it was consistent 
 with a fine sense of honor to offer your hand to one woman and 
 then let your fancy wander to another, I leave you to determine." 
 
 There was a pause. Stanhope was aware that he had spoken 
 severely ; but the same mingled and inconsistent feelings which 
 had made him once before arraign the Marquis for admiring Irene 
 more than Mrs. Falconer, dictated his speech. There is a jeal- 
 ousy for, as well as of, a person beloved, and it was that jealousy 
 which he felt. He was relieved by the result of the Marquis's 
 suit; and yet he was conscious of a sense of indignant anger that 
 Mrs. Falconer should have been, as it were, overshadowed and set 
 aside by a girl who seemed made to bewitch every man but him- 
 self. 
 
 "I do not think," said M. de Ohateaumesnil, after a moment, 
 " that I have been guilty of anything which the finest sense of
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 423 
 
 honor could condemn. When I offered my hand to Mrs. Falcon- 
 er, it was as clearly understood by her as by myself that I offered 
 it in the sense of mariage de convenance. The heart being no 
 factor in the affair, she could not have complained of its disloy- 
 alty, however willful such disloyalty had been. But, in truth, 
 nothing could be less a matter of will than the feeling which I 
 entertain for Mademoiselle Lescar. Mrs. Falconer herself, with 
 a justice and reason rare in my experience of women, recognized 
 this. It is an attraction which has deepened to a fascination." 
 
 "I confess," said Stanhope, "that I have little sympathy with 
 that old excuse of misguided passion, that it was not a matter of 
 will. What is will given us for but to choose between good and 
 evil? " 
 
 "True," said the Marquis. "But you must have your good 
 and your evil, and the will must be roused to resist the last. Now 
 you can not possibly define my feeling for Mademoiselle Lescar 
 in that way. I grant that I should have resisted such an attrac- 
 tion if I had at all suspected its nature. But I did not suspect it. 
 This exquisite girl was to me like a beautiful, poetic vision, rather 
 than a woman to inspire love. I did not realize that passion may 
 be stronger when it allies itself to the noblest emotions, than 
 when it is simply a matter of fancy and the senses." 
 
 "And yet," said Stanhope, "I should have thought that a 
 man so well versed in affairs of the heart as yourself would have 
 known where he stood." 
 
 "It was because I was so familiar with the signs of ordinary 
 passion that I did not know," replied the Marquis. "This 
 morning for the first time the knowledge flashed upon me. I 
 met Mademoiselle Lescar by accident as I was returning from a 
 ride in the garden of the Pamfili-Doria. She was standing on the 
 terrace of San Pietro in Montorio, and in the delight which her 
 presence gave me I recognized the existence of love. When I 
 parted with her, I said to myself, 'What remains to be done?' 
 And it did not require a moment's reflection to decide that I 
 would go to Mrs. Falconer, I would obtain her answer to my 
 suit, and if she accepted me I would see no more of Mademoiselle 
 Lescar. I knew that I could trust my will in such a case." 
 
 "Fortunately, you are not called upon to exert it," said Stan-
 
 424: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 hope, dryly. " You knew little of Mrs. Falconer, or you would not 
 have imagined for a moment that if you had been a royal duke 
 she would have accepted you under such circumstances." 
 
 "It never occurred to me that she had penetrated a secret 
 which was a new discovery to myself." 
 
 " Who can blind a woman where love is concerned ? She has 
 an instinct like the magnetic needle." 
 
 "Eh Uen, it is better so," said the other, calmly. " She is a 
 woman whom any man might regret to lose ; but she is also a 
 woman who could not have been happy without more than I was 
 able to give. She fancies that she is done with passion because 
 her heart has never recovered from the bitter disappointment of 
 her marriage ; but this is a mistake. She is capable of, and she 
 could not be satisfied without, assured affection." 
 
 There was another pause, for Stanhope was not inclined to 
 discuss Mrs. Falconer's character. He had entirely lost confidence 
 in his own power of judging it, and he had no reliance on that of 
 the Marquis. Both, therefore, walked on silently for some time. 
 They had met at the foot of the Trinita de Monti steps, and the 
 Marquis saying to Stanhope, " I have something to tell you," they 
 turned and passed together along the Via Babuino, in the direc- 
 tion of the Piazza del Popolo. They were now entering the 
 Piazza, with its obelisk and fountains, its radiating streets and 
 twin churches. On one side, carriages and pedestrians were 
 streaming along the winding road which leads to the top of the 
 Pincio; other equipages were passing through the Porta del 
 Popolo, to and from the Villa Borghese. By mutual but silent 
 consent, Stanhope and the Marquis crossed the square, passed out 
 of the gate, and entered that fairy-land, which it is the happy 
 heritage of one man to possess, yet which, with a generosity in 
 which the Koman nobles excel all others in the world, he throws 
 open to the free enjoyment of every one. After her popes, it is 
 difficult to say what Eome does not owe to her princes, in whose 
 beautiful gardens the humblest may wander, and in whose noble 
 galleries of art the poorest student can study without price. It 
 will be the privilege of these men to preserve for us all that can 
 be preserved from the present reign of misrule, which is making 
 such barbarous havoc of the Eome that saint and scholar, anti-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 425 
 
 quary and poet have known and loved for ages, have so pondered 
 over and so written upon. Says a writer,* whom no one will 
 accuse of undue sympathy for the dispossessed power, "Should 
 the present state of things continue much longer, and especially 
 should Signer Kosa remain in power, the whole heauty of Rome 
 will have disappeared, except that which the princes guard in 
 their villas, and that which the everlasting hills and the glowing 
 Campagna can never fail to display." 
 
 Whatever else of antiquity and beauty, then, may disappear, 
 another generation can at least hope to behold the enchanted 
 glades of the Borghese Villa as we behold them to-day a picture 
 of sylvan loveliness which no pleasure-ground in the world can 
 equal, for the most beautiful park-scenery elsewhere lacks the 
 classic charm which is here the glorious old ilex-trees that in 
 venerable repose spread their great branches over the turf, the 
 noble stone-pines that rise high in upper air, the avenues of 
 cypresses, the softly-swelling lawns carpeted in spring with mul- 
 titudes of wild flowers, the vistas filled with golden light, the 
 flowery dells where great trees fling their shadows and fountains 
 flash into fern-clad basins, and the graceful statues and columns, 
 the antique altars and tombs many of them half-buried in verd- 
 ure which everywhere meet the eye. Well might Madame de 
 Stael say, " La mythologie des anciens y semble ranime'e. Les 
 naiades sont placets sur le bord des ondes, les nymphes dans les 
 bois dignes d'elles, les tombeaux sous les ombrages lys6ens ; la 
 statue d'Esculape est au milieu d'une He ; celle de V6nus semble 
 sortir des ondes; Ovide et Virgile pourraient se promener dans ce 
 beau lieu ; et se croire encore au sicle d' Auguste." It is indeed 
 a scene in which fancy can find everything to aid its wildest play, 
 its most exquisite dreams. As we wander down the beautiful 
 vistas and see on each hand woodland paths leading into still 
 lovelier seclusions, where the forms of nymphs and goddesses 
 gleam, we feel as if our careless feet had passed into the golden 
 age, and as if all the sweet myths of classic lore were starting to 
 life around us. 
 
 Leaving the wide carriage-road and the more frequented 
 paths, M. de Chateaumesnil and Stanhope followed one of tho 
 * Augustus J. C. Hare.
 
 426 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 many ways that lead into the heart of woodland greenness a 
 world of beauty. They paused in a glade where a group of pict- 
 uresque ilexes made a study for a painter, and near by, partly 
 concealed by embowering foliage, stood a gray altar with half- 
 effaced inscription to Pan, while a statue, fallen from its pedestal, 
 lay prone upon tbe turf. The Marquis sat down on the empty 
 pedestal as Stanhope, abruptly resuming their late topic of con- 
 versation, said : 
 
 " And what do you mean to do now ? " 
 
 The other lightly shrugged bis shoulders. "Why should I do 
 anything?" he asked. "I am not heart-broken; I am not even 
 disappointed, and I enjoy life here. Voild tout!" 
 
 "But you forget," said Stanhope, after a minute, "that if 
 enjoying life which, by-the-by, is something new for one who a 
 little time ago only tolerated it means devoting yourself to the 
 society of Irene, I, as her guardian, must have a word to say to 
 that." 
 
 "I do not think of devoting myself to her society," replied 
 the Marquis, " for the reason that whatever other mistakes I have 
 made or may yet make with regard to myself, I am at least not 
 likely to be mistaken in this that the time for loving like a boy 
 has passed with me. But her society affords me pleasure, from 
 which I can not see that I need debar myself. Her golden calm 
 is absolutely unbroken, and you may be sure that I shall not 
 break it." 
 
 "Intentionally I do not suppose that you would," said Stan- 
 hope; " but unintentionally you may. The betrayal of your feel- 
 ing will come without your intention, perhaps without your 
 knowledge. And I need hardly tell you, who have won so many 
 women's hearts, that you are well fitted to win the heart of an 
 imaginative girl like Ir&ne. Therefore knowing that nothing 
 could be further from your conception of the possible than mar- 
 riage with one who is without family or fortune, I feel that I 
 should fail in my duty to her if I did not say positively that such 
 intercourse can not be permitted." 
 
 M. de Chateaumesnil's face changed, and with an accent of 
 haughtiness he said : 
 
 "Do you mean that you can not trust my word? "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 427 
 
 "I mean," Stanhope answered, coolly, "that I trust my own 
 observation and knowledge of the human heart rather than any 
 man's rash word. ' He who loves danger shall perish in it.' He 
 who courts the force of temptation, confident of his power to 
 resist, is the man who will fall. Moreover, you forget one point. 
 Yon speak of yourself you can not speak for IrSne." 
 
 A moment's silence followed. The Marquis was evidently 
 struggling with himself; at last he said abruptly: 
 
 u Who is she? I asked you the question once before, and you 
 evaded it. But now I think yon will acknowledge that I have a 
 claim to be answered. She has told me that she is not American. 
 Of what country is she, then ; and, if she is of no family, how is it 
 that she possesses such a look of distinction? " 
 
 "Ah!" said Stanhope. Leaning his back against the altar 
 of Pan, he drew forth a cigar-case which he offered to the other, 
 who declined it by a gesture. Then he took out and lighted a 
 cigar for himself before he answered. 
 
 " It is a long story," he said ; " but, since you wish to hear it, 
 there is no reason why I should decline to tell it. Indeed, it is 
 likely that every one who knows Irene, or is interested in her, 
 will hear it soon. One good feature of that," he added, medita- 
 tively, " will be that I shall no longer have to play raconteur.' 1 ' 1 
 
 So, after sending out upon the golden air some light-blue 
 wreaths of smoke, he began again the story which Waldegrave 
 had heard a few days before. The Marquis listened attentively, 
 his dark, brilliant eyes fastened eagerly on the narrator's face, and 
 when it was ended he said : 
 
 " I am not surprised. I have recognized from the first that 
 Mademoiselle Lescar was not of ordinary birth, and also that the 
 shadow of some unusual fate had fallen upon her. And this is the 
 explanation! this the knowledge of sorrow and wrong which 
 I have seen in her eyes and heard in her voice ! " Then, after a 
 pause, he added: "No one who is acquainted with the character 
 of Prince Waldegrave could be astonished at his part of the story; 
 but I confess I am astonished that you should have permitted 
 Count Waldegrave to know her." 
 
 "The decision of that matter was fortunately not left to me," 
 answered Stanhope. "I say fortunately, because I should have
 
 428 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 decided against the acquaintance; and, as events have lately 
 proved, it may be the means of restoring Irene to her rightful 
 place in the world! " 
 lag " How ? " asked the Marquis, quickly. 
 
 "I felt bound to tell the story to Count Waldegrave," Stan- 
 hope replied, "seeing that he, like yourself, was yielding to the 
 attraction which she possesses in such remarkable degree. I 
 meant it as a warning ; but he received it as intelligence which 
 brought within the limit of possibility what had before seemed 
 beyond it. He at once declared his intention of offering her the 
 name, the rank, the position, of which her mother was unjustly 
 deprived. But, before doing so, he has gone to obtain, if possible, 
 Prince Waldegrave's sanction of his suit. There is no reason now 
 why he should not present her to the world as his daughter, and 
 Count Waldegrave hopes that he may do so." 
 
 The Marquis looked grave ; he also turned a little pale. 
 
 " And she ? " he asked. " What does she say to this ? " 
 
 " She has heard nothing of it. By Count Waldegrave's special 
 request, she has not been told of his resolution or his mission." 
 
 " What do you think her answer will be when she does hear ? " 
 
 It was now Stanhope's turn to lift his shoulders. "Who is it 
 can read a woman? " he said. " So far as I can read Irene, I do 
 not think that she will accept what he offers, or that she will 
 meet any advances from her father. She is passionately alive to 
 the sense of her mother's wrong passionately full of resentment 
 toward the author of that wrong. But she belongs to an impres- 
 sionable sex, and she has an imaginative temperament. Nothing, 
 therefore, can be predicted of her with certainty. If she were 
 like other women, however, I should consider the end quite cer- 
 tain, for such a proof of devotion as Count Waldegrave's might 
 touch any woman's heart." 
 
 The Marquis rose from his pedestal and took a turn across the 
 turf. It might be, he thought, that one so quickly thrilled by 
 anything noble, as Irene always was, would be touched by the 
 chivalry of Count Waldegrave, by his taking upon himself the 
 part of champion, the duty of atonement. Before his mental 
 vision rose the face that had been with him that morning on the 
 terrace of San Pietro and by the shrine of Santa Cecilia, that had
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 429 
 
 looked at him from Erne's marble in Mrs. Falconer's salon. To 
 him as to Waldegrave tho moment of possibility had come : he 
 could not let that face pass out of his life without an effort to 
 retain it. He turned abruptly in his walk and paused before 
 Stanhope. 
 
 "Do you think that my chance of success would be better 
 than Count Waldegrave's ? " he asked. 
 
 Stanhope, who had not expected this, regarded him with sur- 
 prise for a moment before answering. Then he said, slowly : 
 
 " But what becomes of your opinion that ideal sentiment is 
 not a good foundation for marriage ? " 
 
 " It goes the way of many another opinion. I am sure that 
 in this case it would be the best foundation." 
 
 "You have also said repeatedly that you could not marry 
 without fortune. Irene, remember, has none that is, none ac- 
 cording to your standard." 
 
 " To be a poor nobleman is not agreeable," said the Marquis, 
 calmly. " It is mortifying and crippling in many ways especially 
 if one has an ambition to enter public life. But, after all, I am 
 not ruined. If I live quietly, the revenues of Chateaumesnil suf- 
 fice to maintain the dignity of a seigneur. Fortune, then, is not 
 essential. But good birth is. I hope that Prince Waldegrave 
 will acknowledge his daughter, because I could not give my name 
 to one on whom even the shadow of a stain rested." 
 
 " Prince Waldegrave's acknowledgment can not alter facts," 
 said Stanhope, " and you, who as a Catholic are bound to believe 
 in the absolute indissolubility of marriage, certainly can not feel 
 that any stain rests on his daughter." 
 
 " None in reality ; but we have to consider the opinion of the 
 W0 rld and for that reason I desire his acknowledgment. Be- 
 yond that I should agree with her in neither asking nor accepting 
 anything." 
 
 " Well," said Stanhope, after a pause, " this is a change in 
 affairs ! A few hours ago you were Mrs. Falconer's suitor : now 
 yon are Irene's. Does it not strike you that such an abrupt 
 change of allegiance will place you in rather an awkward posi- 
 tion ? " 
 
 "Not at all," answered the other, quietly. "Why should it?
 
 430 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 Mrs. Falconer fully comprehends the motives that made me her 
 suitor. She will also comprehend those which make me Made- 
 moiselle Lescar's." 
 
 " And when do you intend to offer yourself at once ? " 
 
 "ISTo," answered the Marquis, "for she is not in the least pre- 
 pared. The man who proposes to a woman when she is not 
 expecting his suit rushes upon certain rejection unless the 
 woman is influenced by considerations that would not influence 
 Mademoiselle Lescar. 1 " 
 
 " True. But remember that Count Waldegrave will return in 
 a few days to offer himself." 
 
 "I have little fear of the result. I understand now what I 
 have seen more than once in her eyes when he approached her. 
 An ordinary woman would accept him. She is not an ordinary 
 woman she will refuse him." 
 
 " I think so," said Stanhope. 
 
 The sun had now left the glade where they stood; its last 
 rays were gilding the tops of the tall pines and pointing the giant 
 cypresses with flame. Even in spring it is not safe to linger in 
 these lovely shades at this hour, for malaria is inhaled with every 
 breath; and the two men turned to go. As they walked slowly 
 back along the woodland vista which led them there, the Marquis 
 said : 
 
 " It is certainly a strange caprice of Fate ! Had it been fore- 
 told me, I should not have found it credible. I could not have 
 conceived that a grande passion would enter my life again, to dis- 
 turb and derange it, to alter my plans and cause me to lose what- 
 ever character for wisdom I may possess in the eyes of my 
 friends. But there are compensations. A little while ago, as 
 you remarked, I only tolerated life ; ennui of the most hopeless 
 description was closing in upon me. Now there is a change. 
 Feelings and aspirations that I had almost forgotten dreams that 
 I thought gone with my youth seem to awaken by contact with 
 this fresh and beautiful nature. "When I am near it, I might 
 fancy myself five-and-twenty again." 
 
 "A very undesirable fancy, in my opinion," said Stanhope. 
 " I should be sorry, even in feeling, to turn the clock of time 
 back from five-and-thirty to five-and-twenty."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 431 
 
 "Ah," said the Marquis, "that is because you have retained 
 all that is best of youth, and lost only its undesirable qualities. 
 Life is still full of interest and hope to you, for you have not 
 burned out its best fires. But for me, weary of pleasure, debarred 
 from the career for which nature intended me, I had fallen into a 
 state out of which this new feeling has come to rouse me, to give 
 zest and meaning to life again." 
 
 "What I fail to understand," said Stanhope, "is why Mrs. 
 Falconer could not have done all this for you." 
 
 The other laughed. "I should not have thought," he said, 
 "that you knew so little of the human heart. Why does one 
 person touch it and another not? There you have one of the 
 mysteries of our being. Yet in this case it seems to me that the 
 explanation is plain. Mrs. Falconer, graceful, charming, lovely as 
 she is, belongs to the class of women of the world whom I know 
 well. But Mademoiselle Lescar was a new type to me, and not 
 only a new type, but a revelation. I have known many femmes 
 <Fesprit, but I have never before known a creature at once so 
 intellectual, so poetic, and so simple with a nature that responds 
 so quickly to every noble emotion." 
 
 "It does not respond to one," said Stanhope, dryly. " She is 
 implacable toward her father." 
 
 "And yet," said the Marquis, "that is a consequence of the 
 very thing of which I speak. The nature which responds quickly 
 to nobleness, revolts equally from baseness. And, when this 
 baseness has struck both affection and pride, it is not wonderful 
 that passion should be in arms against it." 
 
 "I think," said Stanhope, "that, if you assure her of your 
 sympathy on this point, it will go further than any other means 
 you could devise to win her heart." 
 
 " She would be sure of my fullest sympathy," said the Mar- 
 quis ; " yet that would not prevent my seeing that if she wishes 
 to rise higher she must forgive the injury, because only by that 
 step can she rise from natural to supernatural nobleness; and 
 because, after all, an act of baseness injures no one so much as 
 the person guilty of it."
 
 432 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT seemed to Waldegrave that the journey from Nice to Rome 
 was thrice as long as it had ever been before, though he traveled 
 without stopping, rushing with all the speed of steam down the 
 beautiful Riviera, emerging from dark tunnels for brief glimpses 
 of lovely bays, with picturesque fishing villages, bold olive-clad 
 heights on one side, on the other a marvelous sea flecked with 
 zones of color, "the peacock's neck in hue," and dotted with 
 russet sails; past Mentone and Spezzia, past Genoa in her pride 
 and beauty, past Pisa and Leghorn, till, leaving Civita Vecchia, the 
 train sped across the wide Oampagna toward Rome. 
 
 As he neared the city, some words of Irene's recurred to him. 
 "Were you not glad," she said, "to come back to the solemn 
 tawny walls, to the Campagna and the broken aqueducts, even 
 from that paradise by the sea?" He could hear her voice 
 the thrilling, pathetic voice which he knew so well asking the 
 question ; and his heart answered that he was glad with an in- 
 finite gladness. Glancing out of the carriage-window, he saw the 
 Campagna spreading afar under the dim light of the stars, like a 
 vision of a boundless waste; then some giant arches loomed 
 through the darkness, then came the shadow of a mighty wall. 
 The train rushed through : he was again in Rome. 
 
 It was hard to decide to do nothing that night. But, since it 
 was already ten o'clock, he curbed his impatience and allowed his 
 servant to tell the coachman to drive home. Before they had 
 gone far, however, he countermanded the order. " Drive to the 
 H6tel Europa," he said. It had suddenly occurred to him that he 
 might leave a card to inform Stanhope of his arrival, and make an 
 appointment for the next day. 
 
 But, as the carriage drew up before the hotel, who should 
 appear, passing under the portone, but Stanhope himself! He had 
 been to Mrs. Falconer's; but since it was her reception evening, 
 and her rooms were full, he left early. Society had of late lost its 
 charm for him. He found himself strangely absent and distrait. 
 It was the old story : when the heart ardently desires the com- 
 panionship of one person, all others weary and annoy. It is part
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 433 
 
 of that mystery and madness called love, which makes lovers, for 
 a time at least, the most selfish of the world's inhabitants. 
 
 "Waldegrave descended quickly from the carriage and followed 
 the figure as it entered the court. The sound of his name made 
 Stauhope pause and turn. He smiled when be saw who it was 
 that had spoken. 
 
 " Ah, M. le Comte, so you are back in Rome ! " 
 
 " I have just arrived," Waldegrave answered, " and on my way 
 from the railway-station I called to leave my card, and beg you to 
 see me in the morning. But, since I am fortunate enough to meet 
 you in this way, perhaps you will not object to hearing the result 
 of my journey now." 
 
 "I shall be delighted to do so. You will come to my apart- 
 ment?" 
 
 "For a few minutes yes." 
 
 It was a pleasant suite of rooms to which Waldegrave found 
 himself conducted, and the small salon, with its litter of books 
 and papers, had more the air of the study of a man of letters 
 than of the drawing-room of a man of society. Stanhope drew 
 an easy-chair into the circle of shaded lamp-light shed from 
 the writing table, and then crossing the floor laid his hand on a 
 bell. 
 
 " Since you are just from a journey yon will permit me, I 
 hope, to order some refreshment ? " he said. 
 
 But Waldegrave declined. " I shall not remain longer than a 
 few minutes," he said. " What I have to tell can be told very 
 briefly. I am sure you will be glad to hear that I return not 
 only with my uncle's sanction of my wishes, but also with his 
 offer to acknowledge, receive, and fitly provide for his daughter. 
 He is anxious to do all that can be done in atonement for past 
 injustice. It remains, therefore, now only to determine what 
 steps are best to be taken in other words, shall Miss Lescar be 
 informed of this before she hears of my hopes? I am not so 
 eager to let her know the last as to see her established in her 
 rightful place in the world." 
 
 Stanhope, who had returned to the table which occupied the 
 center of the room, thought that he had rarely seen a face more 
 full of generous feeling than that which looked at him. He was 
 19
 
 434 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the more touched because be felt sure that sharp disappointment 
 awaited these confident anticipations. 
 
 "Have you forgotten," he said, quietly, "the warning which 
 I gave you on our way from Tivoli? Do you not remember my 
 having told you then that Irene's resentment for her mother's 
 wrong is so deep that I do not believe she will accept anything 
 that her father does or can offer." 
 
 " But the deepest resentment must surely be disarmed by re- 
 gret and atonement," said "Waldegrave. " I can not believe that 
 she will prove implacable when she hears that her father is will- 
 ing to make every reparation in his power." 
 
 "There only remains, then, to put the matter to the test," 
 said Stanhope. " I sincerely trust that your opinion may prove 
 correct ; but I warn you again that mine is founded on a longer 
 and better knowledge of her character than you possess. And I 
 do not trust only to my own knowledge. I have told you of her 
 mother's anxiety on this point. It was so great that with her 
 dying breath she entreated her daughter to forgive the man who 
 had injured them : and Irene did not could not promise to do 
 so. Yet her devotion to her mother was of passionate intensity. 
 Judge, therefore, what chance you have to obtain that forgive- 
 ness." 
 
 There was a moment's silence ; then Waldegrave said, gravely : 
 
 " At least the attempt must be made you recognize that? " 
 
 " Yes," Stanhope answered, " I recognize that it must be made. 
 Since the father wishes to do justice, no one would have a right 
 to prevent the daughter from deciding for herself whether she 
 will accept what he offers." 
 
 " Then," said Waldegrave, " the next question arises, Who shall 
 convey his offer to her ? You are not only the guardian appointed 
 by her mother, but you have a knowledge of her character, as 
 you remarked, which I do not possess ; and since I desire above 
 all things that this offer shall be accepted, whatever may be her 
 answer to my own, would it not be well for you to make it on 
 behalf of Prince Waldegrave ? " 
 
 " So far as I know myself," Stanhope answered, " I have never 
 yet shrunk from doing anything which clearly presented itself 
 to me in the light of a duty and if I thought this a duty I would
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 435 
 
 do what you propose, even though quite sure it would serve no 
 possible end : for I have no knowledge of Irene's character which 
 would be of use to me in such a case. But apart from the fact 
 that you, being the bearer of the offer, ought to deliver it, there 
 is another reason why I should be sorry to take your place. If I 
 did, you would probably never again see Irene never, I am sure, 
 with her consent and I presume that you wish to do so." 
 
 This startled Waldegrave. "Is it possible," he said, "that 
 you really fear such a result as that? " 
 
 " I do not fear," Stanhope answered, " I am certain of it. 
 When she heard of Prince Waldegrave's offer, the question would 
 at once follow, ' How did he come to make this he who never 
 before has appeared conscious of my existence ? ' Your story 
 would then have to be told and I am not only sure that 
 you could tell it better than any one else could tell it for you, 
 but I am also sure that it is your only chance to obtain a 
 personal hearing. Do not, therefore, throw away an advantage 
 which is always great, and which in this instance is your only 
 hope." 
 
 " Certainly you are not encouraging," said Waldegrave. " But 
 I anticipated difficulty, and I am not easily daunted by it. For 
 her sake as well as my own indeed, for her sake more than my 
 own I am determined to succeed. I shall, therefore, take the 
 forlorn hope you recommend. I shall go to her with my story 
 and her father's offer and I shall accept no refusal." 
 
 " That plan would answer very well you would be quite cer- 
 tain of success with many women," Stanhope answered. " But 
 you do not yet know Irene. However, I will say no more to dis- 
 courage you. Only I think it right to warn you that you have a 
 formidable rival." 
 
 For the first time Waldegrave looked alarmed. 
 
 " Who ? " he asked. 
 
 "The Marquis de Chateaumesnil," Stanhope replied. 
 
 " You astonish me ! " Waldegrave said, after a moment. " I 
 have been under the impression that he was Mrs. Falconer's suitor." 
 
 " He was but Mrs. Falconer herself discovered his attraction 
 toward Irene. The result is a formal transfer of his suit. His 
 name and rank are fully worthy of Prince Waldegrave's daughter
 
 436 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 and he only asks that the purity of her birth shall he acknowl- 
 edged by her father." 
 
 " That will be done in any case," said Waldegrave. " But iny 
 uncle will be sorry " He broke off, hesitated, then, with au 
 effort, asked : " And she ? What is her answer ? " 
 
 " She has given none, for the simple reason that she has not 
 yet heard of his intentions. M. de Chateaumesnil, aware that she 
 has only thought of him as Mrs. Falconer's suitor, wishes to efface 
 that impression before declaring his sentiments toward herself. I 
 think, moreover, that ho is desirous to know Prince Waldegrave's 
 decision." 
 
 " You may set his mind at rest on that point," said the young 
 Count, rising. " Justice will be done in any case : though my 
 uncle will be sorely disappointed if this is the end. .1 do not 
 speak of myself; what I shall feel is of importance only to myself. 
 But I will not yield without an effort. Do you think that I might 
 hope to see Mademoiselle Lescar to-morrow, and that Mrs. Fal- 
 coner would permit me to see her alone ? " 
 
 "It could only be through Mrs. Falconer's aid and arrange- 
 ment that you would be able to do so," answered Stanhope. "I 
 am sure that, if appealed to on the subject, IrSne would decline to 
 see you ; knowing, or at least suspecting as she must, that you 
 have heard the truth regarding her. I will see Mrs. Falconer 
 to-morrow morning, and will let yon know what hour she 
 appoints for yon to come, with the best hope of finding Irene 
 alone." 
 
 " You are very kind," said "Waldegravo. " I shall, then, hope 
 to hear from you." 
 
 And with this understanding they parted. 
 
 It was with that feeling of reliance which is only inspired by a 
 few people, Avho, in the offices and affairs of friendship, have 
 proved themselves altogether steadfast and trustworthy, that 
 Stanhope set forth the next morning to see Mrs. Falconer. Al- 
 though it was much before the usual hour for visitors, he had no 
 difficulty in obtaining admittance, nor had he long to wait for her 
 appearance. 
 
 She came in, looking very fresh and lovely in one of those
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 437 
 
 charming morning-robes which. Parisian dress-makers devise, 
 where apparent simplicity disguises consummate art. 
 
 " Have you come to apologize for disappearing so early last 
 night ? " she asked, giving him her hand. " It was very discour- 
 teous. You did not even bid me good-night, but when I looked 
 around for you I found you gone." 
 
 "I did not think you would miss me," he answered; "but 
 I will apologize to any extent that you demand. By leaving 
 when I did, however, I met Count Waldegrave, who had just 
 returned from Xice, and who drove from the station to my hotel, 
 arriving there at the same tune that I did. He intended merely 
 to leave his card and make an appointment for to-day ; but since 
 we met so opportunely, he told me the result of his journey." 
 
 " And what was it ? " she asked, with quick interest. 
 
 " Prince Waldegrave gives a fatherly benediction to the pro- 
 posed marriage, and is ready to acknowledge and receive his 
 daughter." 
 
 " Can it be possible? It is more than I dreamed of! " 
 
 "It is much more than I expected, and proves one of two 
 things either that Count "Waldegrave has extraordinary influ- 
 ence over his uncle, or that the latter is not insensible to remorse." 
 
 "Probably both considerations weighed with him. He is 
 glad, no doubt, to gratify his nephew, at the same time that he 
 does tardy justice to his daughter. But to be allowed to atone 
 for wrong committed is a great privilege ; and it is one which I 
 do not think Prince Waldegrave has deserved." 
 
 "I am afraid that will be Irene's opinion," said Stanhope; 
 "but 1 did not think that it would be yours." 
 
 " On this point I can appreciate her feeling. Shall this man, 
 who has profited by wrong and gained all that was his end, now 
 have the satisfaction of believing that he has made full amende? " 
 
 "He can never make full amende" said Stanhope, "for the 
 person on whom chiefly the wrong was wrought has passed 
 beyond the reach of reparation. His amende at the utmost will 
 be only partial ; and if he is indeed anxious to atone, it would be a 
 hard and ungenerous spirit which refused to allow him to do so." 
 
 " No doubt you are right ; yet for the first time I sympathize 
 fully with Irene on this subject. I find myself revolting against
 
 438 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 her accepting anything from one who disowned her mother and 
 herself." 
 
 "What she accepts, however, will only be her birthright. 
 You must remember that. Remember, too, that it is an acknowl- 
 edgment of wrong done her mother as well as herself. And, 
 then, do you wholly overlook Count Waldegrave? Has the 
 romance of your woman's heart no plea to make for him ? " 
 
 "None," she answered. "I am much more struck with the 
 poetical justice of his loving Irene fruitlessly than of her bearing 
 the name and filling the place from which her mother was cast." 
 Then she added, with a smile : " I am the advocate of M. de Cha- 
 teaumesnil. I want her to marry him." 
 
 Stanhope regarded her silently for a minute before he said : 
 " I confess that you puzzle me. I do not understand you at all." 
 
 "How do I puzzle you? " she asked. "What is it that you 
 do not understand ? " 
 
 " For one thing, I do not understand why you wish Irene to 
 marry M. de Chateaumesnil." 
 
 " Tet it is plain enough. He offers her rank as high if not as 
 brilliant as Count Waldegrave's, and an older, prouder name. I 
 want her to take her proper place in the world, not through any 
 grace of her father, but through the love of a man who is her 
 father's equal. Then, there are several reasons why I think she 
 would be happier with the Marquis than with Count Waldegrave. 
 He has a nature much more sympathetic with her own ; they are 
 of the same religious faith, and I think that he would appreciate 
 her; while I am sure she would prove the most appreciative com- 
 panion to him." 
 
 " Appreciative yes. But not a companion fitted to aid his 
 success in life. She is too ideal." 
 
 "A great mistake that. An ideal nature gives the spirit 
 wings over the rough places in life, which must be traversed in 
 order to reach high ends. Believe me, Irene would make a per- 
 fect Marquise de Chateauraesnil. The Faubourg itself could find 
 no flaw in her. It would have found many flaws in me." 
 
 "How can you speak so of yourself?" demanded Stanhope, 
 indignantly. " It is an injustice which I can not endure. What is 
 this girl compared to you? "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 439 
 
 " Ask M. de Chateaumesnil that question," she said, with a 
 slight smile. 
 
 " M. de Chateaumesnil is a fool ! " cried Stanhope, who, in 
 excuse for this outbreak, it may be said was really provoked 
 beyond endurance. "He is acting without sense or judgment." 
 
 "On the contrary," said Mrs. Falconer, quietly, "he is acting 
 with both. Certainly the man is a fool who throws away his life 
 for any mere sentimental fancy. But the deep, or rather the high, 
 passion which springs from the contact of a thoroughly sympa- 
 thetic nature is a different thing. The wisest man can prove his 
 wisdom in no better manner than by following that. I assure 
 you my respect for M. de Chateaumesnil is increased since I find 
 him capable of such a passion and willing to sacrifice everything 
 for it." 
 
 "He will sacrifice much," said Stanhope, "unless Irene ac- 
 cepts her fathers offer which Count Waldegrave declares will 
 hold good whether she accepts him or not." 
 
 " Did you tell him of the intentions of the Marquis ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I felt bound to do so. I told him that the Marquis 
 only asked that Prince Waldegrave should acknowledge his daugh- 
 ter, and he replied that T might set his mind at rest on that point ; 
 that justice would be done in any case." 
 
 " It is very noble of him to give such an assurance." 
 
 "I think you will be struck by the fact that he looks at the 
 matter in a very noble way. He is more anxious for Irene to 
 be restored to her rightful place in the world, the possession of 
 her birthright, than for her to consent to marry himself; though 
 no doubt he thinks that the last would eventually follow the 
 first." 
 
 "Did he seem startled to hear of a rival? " 
 
 " He seemed much surprised, especially since, like every one 
 else, he considered the Marquis your suitor. But he was not 
 daunted. He desires to plead his cause at once, and wishes 
 to know whether you will permit him to see Irene alone 
 to-day." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer smiled. " The difficulty on that point will be 
 with Irene," she said. 
 
 " So I told him. But I ventured to promise that you would
 
 440 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 arrange the difficulty. I am sure that you will, notwithstanding 
 that you have declared yourself on the side of the Marquis." 
 
 " I suppose that for the sake of fair play I must. But it will 
 have to be done by stratagem." She considered for a moment. 
 " Tell him to come this afternoon about three o'clock. I will go 
 out, giving Antonio strict orders that no one is to be admitted but 
 Count "Waldegrave, and I will endeavor to arrange that Irene 
 shall be found here. I do not know what reason I shall give for 
 begging her to remain in the drawing-room ; but necessity is the 
 spur of invention. Perhaps I might tell her that you are coming 
 and particularly wish to see her. Do you think it likely you will 
 look in this afternoon ? " 
 
 " I am quite sure that I shall after Count Waldegrave's visit." 
 " That will do, then. She will be angry, I fear, when she dis- 
 covers the trap mais cela ne fait rien ! He will have had his 
 chance." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "My dear," said Mrs. Falconer, after luncheon, addressing 
 IrSne with an unblushing countenance, "I am obliged to go out 
 to keep an engagement made with Lady Dorchester last night ; 
 but I leave you in possession of the boudoir, and I shall tell 
 Antonio to show Mr. Stanhope in here when he comes." 
 
 "Pray do," said Irene, "though I hope he may not come; for 
 I can not imagine that he has anything of importance to say to 
 me, and this book is very interesting." 
 
 She looked up, smiling as she spoke, with an unsuspiciousness 
 which gave Mrs. Falconer something of the feeling of a conspir- 
 ator. But she went out, dropping behind her the portiere which 
 screened this apartment from the rest of the long suite. Occupy- 
 ing an angle of the building, it was of irregular shape, and had a 
 charming aspect. The soft hangings of Persian silk, on brass- 
 tipped lances of ebony, were of the most harmoniously mingled 
 colors; the crystal frames of Salviati's mirrors were like fairy- 
 work; two or three beautiful inlaid cabinets were covered with 
 bric-d-brac ; paintings and photographs hung on the walls, lamps 
 and vases from ancient Etruscan models were scattered on brackets
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 441 
 
 and shelves; from one corner a marble Puck seemed starting for- 
 ward to put a girdle round the earth ; in another, Hebe stood, 
 bearing the cup of the gods. There were luxurious chairs, a 
 writing-table furnished with all appliances for correspondence, 
 and another table covered with the latest English and French 
 publications. Two curtained doors led from the apartment one 
 into the suite of reception-rooms, the other into Mrs. Falconer's 
 chamber. 
 
 Left alone in this delightful retreat, half buried in a deep 
 chair, with a book for companion, perfect silence reigning around, 
 and, when she chose to lift her eyes, a view of towers and domes 
 and pines to be seen between the folds of filmy muslin which 
 formed the inner drapery of the window, Irene felt like the 
 philosopher who said, " When I open a noble volume I say to 
 myself, ' Now, the only person that I envy is he who is reading a 
 better book than this. 1 " There was pleasure in the sense of safe 
 seclusion, and she read with that enjoyment which only an ardent 
 student knows, for a length of time of which she took no heed. 
 She was at length roused by a distant but well-known sound 
 that of the door-bell of the apartment. 
 
 " Probably that is Mr. Stanhope," she thought, dropping the 
 book into her lap. And then it occurred to her to wonder again 
 why Stanhope should come to see her. He very seldom did so in 
 any formal manner. If he had anything to say to her, it was said 
 in the course of those ordinary and quite frequent visits which, 
 she knew, were primarily intended for Mrs. Falconer. He had 
 been in the house that morning why had he not seen her then ? 
 why make this second, unusual visit? It must mean something of 
 importance yet what could that something be ? An instinct that 
 it might concern "Waldegravo suddenly flashed upon her ; and at 
 that moment Antonio drew back the portiere and announced 
 Count Waldegrave. 
 
 Ir&ne rose to her feet a picture of astonishment. Was An- 
 tonio mad? That was her first thought. Only a few of Mrs. 
 Falconer's most intimate friends were ever admitted to this apart- 
 ment, and then only by the special order of its mistress. But to 
 introduce a comparative stranger here, and she alone Antonio 
 received a glance which made him drop the portiere and hastily
 
 442 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 retire. Ho bad obeyed bis mistress, tbat was enougb for bim ; 
 but he did not care to meet the signorina's eyes when she looked 
 in that way. The signorina, however, bad no mind to accept the 
 situation quietly. 
 
 "Pardon, M. le Comte," she said, as Waldegrave advanced, 
 " but it is evident that the servant has made a mistake. Mrs. Fal- 
 coner is not at home." 
 
 "Pardon me, mademoiselle," "Waldegrave answered, "but the 
 servant has made no mistake. I asked for yourself." Then, 
 meeting a look of still greater surprise, he added : " I should not 
 have presumed to take such a step without the consent of your 
 guardian. But it is with his permission that I atn here." 
 
 " I do not recognize his right to give such a permission," she 
 said, haughtily, feeling an instant conviction, in part at least, of 
 what lay before her. Evidently "Waldegrave had heard who she 
 was, and with Stanhope's consent and by Mrs. Falconer's arrange- 
 ment bad come to speak on the subject. She was like one mailed 
 in steel at the thought. It was a liberty which could not be too 
 severely rebuked. She made a step as if to leave the room, but 
 Waldegrave hastily interposed. 
 
 " Whether you recognize such a right or not," he said, " I beg 
 you to remain to listen to me 1 I have nothing to say tbat can 
 possibly offend you." 
 
 "The mere fact tbat you have come to speak to me in this 
 manner offends me," she said. " Why has Mr. Stanhope vent- 
 ured to give a permission which does not enter into the scope of 
 his duties at all?" 
 
 " Because," Waldegrave answered, " the matter upon which I 
 have come is of such importance that it does enter into the 
 scope of his duties to be sure that it is properly put before 
 you." 
 
 She threw back her head with a gesture as haughty as her 
 tone. "I find it impossible," she said, "to imagine anything 
 which you can have to say to me of importance." 
 
 " Then you will certainly allow me to tell you what it is," he 
 said. 
 
 The gentleness, the entreaty in his tone, might have touched 
 her, if at tbat moment she bad been capable of being touched by
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 443 
 
 anything. But her mood was entirely resistant. Again she 
 thought of escape, but Waldegrave stood immediately between 
 her and the door leading to Mrs. Falconer's apartment, and she 
 could not make an undignified attempt to pass him. But she did 
 not speak ; only her silence gave him leave to go on : 
 
 "I am sure," he said, after a moment, " that I need not recall 
 to your memory our last conversation together, or how you then 
 bade me listen if any one who had a right to speak for you came 
 to me. A few hours later, one who certainly possessed that right 
 told me your story, and in giving me the secret of your birth gave 
 me also the secret of all that had puzzled me from our earliest 
 acquaintance." He made a step nearer, and held out his hand, 
 with a gesture as graceful as it was earnest. "Will you not 
 acknowledge me as a kinsman," he said, " and grant me a kins- 
 man's privilege to approach you ? " 
 
 She did not notice either gesture or appeal. Standing with 
 one hand on the back of the chair from which she had risen at his 
 entrance, she regarded him with a face that might have been 
 carved in marble for all sign of softening that was in it, and, when 
 she spoke, her tones were clear and cold as ice. 
 
 " Since you recall so much of our last conversation, you must 
 also recollect my telling you that after you had heard my story we 
 should not meet again. If I had known that Mr. Stanhope had 
 told it to you, I should have guarded against this interview. He 
 has uncandidly betrayed me into it ; but you will, I trust, believe 
 me when I say that you have made a mistake that there is 
 nothing to be gained by any allusion to a subject which I decline 
 to discuss." 
 
 Waldegrave felt like one in whose face a door is shut. Almost 
 before he began, she had made it difficult for him to utter another 
 word. 
 
 "I am forced," he said, " to disregard your request, because I 
 hope there may be much to be gained by discussing the subject, 
 and especially because I am the bearer of a message from your 
 father." 
 
 If her face had been haughty before, what was it now ? It 
 seemed to him that human features were never made to express 
 more perfectly the extreme of proud anger.
 
 444 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Is it possible," she said, " that any one has ventured to 
 approach the person of whom you speak on my behalf ? " 
 
 " I have ventured to do so," Waldegrave answered. " As soon 
 as I heard Mr. Stanhope's communication, I went to Nice where 
 Prince Waldegrave is now staying and laid it before him, to- 
 gether with some wishes of my own, of which I shall speak here- 
 after. What he felt, I leave you to judge from the fact that I 
 "return empowered to offer you all the atonement for wrong 
 which it is in his power to make. He is willing nay, anxious 
 to acknowledge, receive, and provide for you as his daughter." 
 
 "And I," she said, "leave you to judge what /feel, when I 
 tell you that there is not wealth enough on earth to tempt, as 
 there is not power enough on earth to force me to accept the 
 least or the greatest thing which Prince Waldegrave can offer! " 
 
 The fiery spirit, which her listener had learned to know, spoke 
 in her voice and shone in her glance as she uttered the last words, 
 and he began to realize the truth of Stanhope's warning. But, as 
 he had said of himself, he was not easily daunted ; and to yield 
 without further effort was impossible. 
 
 " It can not be," he said, gravely, " that this is your answer to 
 one who acknowledges that he committed a wrong, and desires to 
 repair it. Can you, who find in your soul an echo for every noble 
 feeling, find none for the beauty and generosity of forgiveness? 
 Do you think that you have a right to refuse atonement, when it 
 is offered by one who has, at least, the natural claim of a parent ? " 
 
 " It would have been better if you had left that unsaid," she 
 replied ; " for you must be aware that no plea can be founded 
 on a claim which has been renounced, and a hundred times for- 
 feited. 1 owe no filial duty to the man who flung my mother and 
 myself out of the path of his ambition, who blasted her life and 
 darkened all of mine! It is no mere form of words when I say 
 that were I starving and friendless, as I might have been for 
 aught that he has known or cared, I should still fling his offer 
 back to him in scorn I should still bid you tell him that the 
 name which he took from my mother I will never bear; and that 
 when he can call Tier from the grave and put her again into the 
 place from which he cast her, he may talk to me of reparation 
 not before ! "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 445 
 
 The passion within her had slipped its leash, and vibrated in 
 every tone of her voice as she spoke. And what a voice it was to 
 express emotion ! Its cadences thrilled Waldegrave like the deep 
 notes of a violoncello. And as he looked at the pale face, the 
 shining eyes, he felt the hopelessness of appeal. "What could 
 move this spirit, with its profound sense of unalterable wrong, 
 and its hatred and disdain of the wrong-doer? It was only the 
 involuntary expression of his thoughts which made him say : 
 
 44 But, in this bitter resentment, you are stifling and belying 
 the better part of your nature." 
 
 4 ' So far from that," she said, " all my nature finds expression 
 in it, all my pride and sense of outraged justice, all my love for 
 the one creature I have ever perfectly loved, all my scorn for 
 things base and selfish. Before I could forgive such a wrong, I 
 must trample upon nature. That, divine faith bids me do ; but I 
 have not yet learned to do it. 1 have tried to say in my heart that 
 I forgive, and I have never yet for one moment said it. I will tell 
 you why I tried. It was because with her last breath my mother 
 asked me to do so. But, when her image rises before me, when 
 I remember all the sadness of her life and death Ah! why do 
 I talk of this, and why have you como to me on such a fruitless 
 errand?" 
 
 As she broke off in this manner, there was for the first time 
 an accent of pathos in her voice, and her eyes were full of 
 quickly rising tears, which quenched their indignant fire. Then 
 Waldegrave risked all on a last desperate cast. 
 
 44 1 have come," he said, ' 4 not only because for the honor of 
 my name I wish that justice should be done and wrong atoned 
 for, but because 1 love you I have long loved you and I would 
 fain cast out hatred by love." 
 
 He drew nearer to her there was now only the chair between 
 them and went on eagerly : 44 Listen to me. Do not let me plead 
 in vain, since it is for you that I plead, as well as for myself I 
 Take from me, if you will not take from your father, the name 
 and place which is your right, together with the heart which has 
 been yours since I saw you on that old terrace, where you were 
 like a vision out of a dream to me. I love you with a passion 
 against which I struggled vainly before I knew the truth, and
 
 446 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 when I knew it my first thought was one of intense gladness. 
 You were brought near to me, and it might be mine to atone by 
 a life- time of honor and devotion for the sadness and wrong that 
 had overshadowed your youth. Fling away, like a dark memory, 
 the thought of that past. Put your hand in mine, and let us face 
 the sunlight together the sunlight of love and youth, and hope 
 and divine forgiveness ! My beautiful love, with your poet soul 
 and your poet eyes, you are not made for darkness, but for light. 
 Be generous let me have the happiness of pouring it over 
 you." 
 
 As he uttered these impassioned sentences, his was certainly a 
 voice and a presence to thrill any woman's heart. His face, 
 usually BO cold, was vivid with feeling, and his tones were full of 
 the most eager entreaty. He might have stood for a picture of 
 ardent passion passion the more ardent, because not wholly in- 
 tent on selfish ends. It was as he had said he was pleading for 
 her, as well as for his own, happiness. 
 
 Perhaps Irene felt this. At least he could see that his words 
 moved her though not in the manner he desired. The hand, 
 which he again extended, she did not now ignore, but she shrank 
 back from it. 
 
 " I beg you to say no more ! " she exclaimed, in a quick tone. 
 " "What you ask is impossible. I told you once that you would 
 have to be made over again before we could be friends. I tell you 
 now that /should have to be made over before I could accept your 
 love. But you have a noble heart. I acknowledge that, and I 
 think I must have felt it all the time, for, although your name had 
 such a bitter sound in my ears, I could not hate you after I came 
 to know you." 
 
 "And is there not in that," he said, eagerly, " a foundation to 
 build upon? It has been my hope the only hope I dared in- 
 dulge." 
 
 " No," she answered, "there is no foundation possible between 
 you and me. It would be easier for fire and water to blend. And 
 I do not deserve that you should talk of loving me. For I have 
 been glad to think that you might love me. It seemed a sort of 
 retribution." 
 
 He looked at her for a moment, as if unable to comprehend.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 447 
 
 Then he said, " Do you mean can you mean that you were glad 
 because you wished to give me pain? " 
 
 "I did not wish to give it," she answered ; "but I was glad to 
 think that you should suffer it through me. Does this seem to 
 you a distinction without a difference ? Yet it was very plain to 
 me. When I heard that you wished to know me, I said to myself: 
 'I have done nothing to bring this about it has come of itself. 
 But if he loves me and suffers through me, I shall not be sorry.' 
 But now " her voice changed " I am sorry. I would avoid 
 paining you if I could." 
 
 Silence followed. What could Waldegrave answer? He 
 turned and walked across the floor, stood for a moment by the 
 window, then came back, with a face different from that of the 
 ardent lover, who had poured out his heart a few minutes before. 
 Now it was pale, quiet, resolute. 
 
 " And I," he said, pausing before her again, " am willing to 
 bear this or any other pain, if by means of it I can at last win the 
 triumph of your higher self over the bitterness Vhich drags you 
 down, and which made such a feeling as that of which you speak 
 possible to you. For, what stronger proof could be given of the 
 lowering nature of hatred than that yon, of all women you, who 
 seem made to inspire noble thoughts in all who approach you 
 could have found satisfaction in the idea of giving or causing pain ! 
 Does it not show how wise and tender was that last prayer of your 
 mother, which you disregard ? Does it not make you feel that even 
 in you there are possibilities that must be crushed, or they will 
 crush all that forms the best part of your nature ? This bitterness 
 is like a dark shadow, which you must cast off and again I say 
 that I am willing to suffer any pain which love for you entails, if 
 it enabled me to contribute in the least to the final victory of 
 your true self, to the hour when yon will rise high enough to 
 see " 
 
 " That ' no wrong is worth resentment ' ? " she asked. " That 
 was my mother's saying. But my mother was a saint. / am 
 Prince Waldegrave's daughter. And I should despise myself as 
 worthy to be so as capable, as he was, of sacrificing honor to 
 self-interest if I could take anything from his hand. Let this be 
 my last word."
 
 448 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Nay," he said, " it is impossible that I can accept it as such. 
 You must pause you must think, that for the sake of others, 
 since no one in the world stands alone, you should take the justice 
 of your birthright. It is only justice." 
 
 " It is truly only justice," she replied ; " but is given or with- 
 held at the pleasure of a man to whom I will not even owe 
 justice. And, for the rest, let me remind you that I do stand 
 alone and that what I choose to be, or refuse to be, concerns 
 only myself." 
 
 " Do you really think that ? " he asked. " Do you not see that 
 it concerns others" he paused, a thought of the Marquis de Cha- 
 teaumesnil flashed on him " chiefly the man whom you will love 
 and marry ? " he added. 
 
 " There is no such man," she answered, in her most haughty 
 tone. " How could there be, when I have only a great wrong for 
 inheritance?" 
 
 " Forgive me," said Waldegrave, " but is that statement worthy 
 of you, when you* know that with a word you can take exactly the 
 place in the world which you would have filled had your mother 
 remained Prince Waldegrave's wife ? " 
 
 ''Had she remained she Aid remain his wife she died his 
 wife by every law of God and man ! " cried the girl, turning on 
 him with such a flash of passion in her face that she seemed for 
 the moment almost transfigured. " And there you touch the point 
 which makes it impossible that I could accept his offer, even if I 
 were able to forget to forgive ! Would such an offer be made to 
 me if my mother were living ? You know that it would not ! 
 Therefore, in accepting it, in entering Prince Waldegrave's house, 
 in recognizing as his wife the woman who is there, I should 
 accept the decree which drove my mother from her place, and I 
 should take my right from her death. For how could even a 
 subtle diplomatist in the same breath acknowledge a daughter 
 and disown a wife ? No ; I would not take a throne at such a 
 price ! " 
 
 It was easy to see that to read it in every line of the 
 resolute face, and in the flashing glance of the superb eyes. 
 "Good Heaven! what a likeness to her father!" Waldegrave 
 thought, recalling a day when he had seen his uncle beard a par-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 449 
 
 liamentary assembly reluctant to do his will, and impose that will 
 upon them by the magnetism and majesty of his personal author- 
 ity. Just such a will was arrayed against him now, and the young 
 man realized that his words were like water poured on granite. 
 Still he made one more effort. 
 
 "You are altogether wrong in your conclusion," he said. 
 "Do you not see that the acknowledgment of wrong done to 
 your mother is clearly implied in what is offered you? " 
 
 She shook her head. " You are a clever advocate," she 
 answered; "but you can not blind me to the truth which my 
 heart feels and my mind perceives, that in acting as you propose, 
 I should accept and condone the past. That I will never do." 
 Then, after a moment's pause a despairing pause on Walde- 
 grave's part she added, more gently : " Why will you not believe 
 that you are wasting time in all that you urge? Why will you 
 not take what I say as final ? It is final, whether you believe it 
 or not." 
 
 " I shall never believe it," he answered. " We have both the 
 same will it is a family inheritance ; but in this contest mine 
 should prove strongest, since I have the nobler end in view. At 
 least I will hope and you will allow me to see you again ? " 
 
 " I would rather not," she answered. " Why should I ? There 
 is nothing to be gained by it." 
 
 " There may be something to be gained at last. Do not refuse 
 to me a privilege which your merest acquaintance enjoys." 
 
 " You are not a mere acquaintance," she replied, " and your 
 presence after this would too painfully excite me. I should like 
 to go away far away where there would be nothing to remind 
 me of the wrong. Then I might at last reach the height on which 
 my mother stood, and forgive as she forgave. It is the only hope. 
 But though I do not wish to see you again ever again I shall 
 not forget that you are kind and noble. So adieu." 
 
 She held out the hand she had never before given him. And 
 he, taking it, feeling for the first time the touch of her fingers 
 upon his own, vowed to himself that, let her say what she would, 
 this should be no final farewell. Again he would hold that small, 
 flexible, firm hand, with its skin like satin and its rose-leaf palm ; 
 again he would struggle with her, until, by the force of love, her
 
 450 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 will should yield! So he promised himself; but he saw in her 
 pale face that it was time the strain of the interview ended and 
 he said: 
 
 "I will leave you now ; but I do not accept your sentence of 
 banishment, and I warn you that you could not go so far that I 
 would not follow and find you. Remember that I have everything 
 on my side the honor of our common name, the desire of your 
 father to atone, and the last wish of your mother. Armed with 
 these motives, and strong in the love which desires above all 
 things that you should do that which is worthy of you, I can not 
 despair ! You must see at last what is truly noble and seeing, 
 you will follow it." 
 
 " Do not hope so," she said. " Do not think that I will ever 
 do what you think noble, but I most ignoble." 
 
 He smiled a little. " You told me once that I was mistaken in 
 fancying that I knew you," he said; "but I am still presumptuous 
 enough to think that I know you better perhaps than you know 
 yourself. Time will show. Meanwhile let me echo your word- 
 adieu." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "Waldegrave left Mrs. Falconer's apartment, he found 
 that a carriage was drawn up at the foot of the steps, from which 
 two ladies had alighted and were in the act of ascending the stairs. 
 As he met them and moved aside slightly to allow them to pass, 
 one of them paused and spoke with an air of friendliness. 
 
 " How do you do, M. le Comte ? " she said. " I have not had 
 the pleasure of meeting you before since I have been in Rome." 
 
 "When she began to speak, Waldegrave had no idea who she 
 was, but before she finished so quick is thought he remembered 
 her as a pretty American girl whom he had met in Nice. 
 
 "I was not aware that Miss Dysart was in Rome," he said. 
 
 " I have been here two weeks with my friend the Baroness 
 Bodenstein," she replied. " But this is my first glimpse of you, 
 with the exception of one afternoon, when I saw you standing by 
 Mrs. Falconer's carriage on the Pincio," she added, with a smile.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 451 
 
 " It is a slight coincidence that we should meet now at Mrs. Fal- 
 coner's door." 
 
 Waldegrave gave no sign of recognizing the force of the coin- 
 cidence. "I hope," he said, " that you are well." 
 
 " Quite well thanks." 
 
 "And that you find Rome as pleasant as Nice." 
 
 "I find it very pleasant, but less gay than Nice." 
 
 "Nice is Paris-sur-Mer," he said, smiling; "you can not ex- 
 pect the Eternal City to bear comparison with it in that re- 
 spect." 
 
 " Oh, I like Rome and find it very interesting," she said, 
 quickly. " I was sorry not to appear at Mrs. Falconer's recep- 
 tion last night. Her evenings are always particularly agreeable. 
 You were present, of course ? " 
 
 "No," he replied, "I was not present." Then, with a bow 
 and a formal "But do not allow me to detain you longer; I 
 shall hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again " he passed 
 on. 
 
 It was with a heightened color and an expression of mingled 
 vexation and mortification that Miss Dysart followed her friend 
 who had discreetly continued her upward journey to the landing- 
 place. 
 
 " I have never seen a man more changed," were her first 
 words. " You know what he was in Nice. He is odious now 
 cold, abrupt, absolutely rude." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the Baroness. " What can be the matter ? 
 Perhaps he was preoccupied in some way." 
 
 "That would be no excuse for his manner. He did not even 
 ask where I was to be found, or give the least sign of interest. It 
 is not possible to imagine greater indifference than he displayed." 
 
 " Well," said the Baroness, philosophically, " that is the way 
 of men. And you know you were warned that this Count Walde- 
 grave is an iceberg." 
 
 " He was not an iceberg when I saw him before," said Miss 
 Dysart, who, like most women of her class, not only made the mis- 
 take of overrating her power of attraction, but also very much 
 overrated its effect as apparent on others. "Another influence 
 has come over him. Perhaps it is that of this girl whom they
 
 452 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 call Miss Lescar, and who I am sure he does not know to be his 
 uncle's daughter. It may he a plan of Mrs. Falconer's, or of the 
 girl's, to entangle him while he is in ignorance." 
 
 " Take care ! " said the Baroness, with a warning glance at 
 the door before which they stood. 
 
 Miss Dysart said nothing more, but she extended her hand and 
 rang the bell with a sharp peal that brought Antonio with unu- 
 sual celerity. When he opened the door, however, it was only to 
 inform the ladies in his most dignified manner that Mrs. Falconer 
 was not at home. 
 
 They exchanged a glance ; but there was nothing to be done, 
 save to leave their cards and go down again to their carriage. But 
 as they did so, Violet said.: "Count Waldegrave certainly came 
 from that apartment. If Mrs. Falconer is really not at home, 
 whom did he see?" 
 
 " He may have been told what we were," suggested the Bar- 
 oness. 
 
 But the suggestion did not please Miss Dysart. " He had the 
 look of a man who had paid a visit," she said, though she did not 
 define in what the look consisted. "I am sure he had been ad- 
 mitted. I wish "she hesitated " I wish that Prince Walde- 
 grave knew what was going on! " 
 
 "Shall we go to thePincio?" asked the Baroness, who did 
 not feel interested in Prince Waldegrave's probable sentiments. 
 
 And Violet answered, " Yes to the Pincio." 
 
 Her disappointment had left no apparent trace when M. de 
 Chateaumesnil saw her there half an hour later radiant and 
 lovely. She had always rather amused him, and he approached 
 and paid his respects with an empressement very gratifying to her, 
 who always calculated subtly the effect of everything in a social 
 point of view. From this point of view nothing could be more 
 desirable than to detain the Marquis at the side of her carriage for 
 some time ; and she therefore exerted herself to be as entertain- 
 ing as possible. A sparkling account of social matters at Nice 
 was followed by comments on such bits of Roman gossip as had 
 come to her knowledge. 
 
 " I was sorry," she said, presently, " not to have been at Mrs. 
 Falconer's last night, but the Baroness and myself received cards
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 453 
 
 for the royal ball. I presume that you do not go to the Quirinal, 
 M. le Marquis ? " 
 
 "Never," answered the Marquis. "I do not recognize rob- 
 bery as justifiable in great affairs more than in small ones." 
 
 " Well, I have an easy conscience," she said, smiling, u and a 
 royal ball is a royal ball. But it was a curious mob of people. I 
 understand that it is always the case and that if one wishes to 
 be socially recognized in Eome, one must distinctly ' cut ' the 
 Quirinal so I do not think I shall go to another." 
 
 " That depends, of course," said the Marquis, " upon what is 
 your definition of social recognition. The Koman nob*lity, with 
 few exceptions, hold aloof from the invading government ; but 
 there is a society composed of government officials and foreigners 
 who go to the Quirinal." 
 
 " That is not the kind of society I care for," she said. " My 
 ambition is always for the best, and while I arn in Rome I mean 
 emphatically to do as Romans do that is, range myself under the 
 standard of the Vatican." 
 
 The Marquis smiled. " You are frank in the statement of 
 your motives," he said. 
 
 " Oh, frankness is my chief virtue," she answered. " Have 
 you not discovered that ? However, to return to our mutton, I 
 was sorry to lose Mrs. Falconer's evening, and we have just been 
 so unfortunate as not to find her at home. Some one else was 
 probably disappointed as well as ourselves, for we met Count 
 Waldegrave descending the stair as we went up." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Marquis and to the quick ears listening the 
 tone of his interjection betrayed more than he had intended. He 
 had, in fact, heard from Stanhope of Waldegrave's return, and knew 
 that this afternoon was appointed for his visit to Irene. If Miss 
 Dysart had met him descending the stair, the visit no doubt was 
 over. What had been the result? It was impossible that he 
 should not ask himself this question with some anxiety, and equally 
 impossible that there should not be some betrayal of feeling other 
 than indifference in his tone. 
 
 Putting her own interpretation upon it, Miss Dysart began to 
 think that perhaps Count Waldegrave was attracted by Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, since she knew that the Marquis was the avowed suitor of
 
 454 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the latter. Nevertheless, she determined to make a sounding on 
 the subject of Irene. 
 
 " It struck me," she said, " as singular to see Count Waldegrave 
 there, since the young lady under Mrs. Falconer's care is so nearly 
 connected with him. It was a sad story ! Did you know that 
 her mother was Prince Waldegrave's wife for a time ? " 
 
 " And do you think," asked the Marquis, restraining his incli- 
 nation to speak haughtily, " that a wife can he a wife only ' for a 
 time' ? I believe that marriage once contracted validly can only 
 be dissolved by death. Therefore, if Miss Lescar's mother was 
 Prince Waldegrave's wife once, she was his wife when she 
 died." 
 
 Violet did not reply for a moment. She was in truth aston- 
 ished not only by the Marquis's evident knowledge of what she 
 had supposed would be new information to him, but by the tone 
 and manner of his speech. She began to ask herself, as Stanhope 
 had more than once asked himself , if every one was bewitched by 
 this beautiful girl with her heritage of wrong. 
 
 " You are probably not aware," she said, presently, "that the 
 marriage was dissolved on the ground of legal informality." 
 
 " And what," he answered, "has legal formality or informality 
 to do with the sacrament of matrimony ? It is something which 
 is not derived from any law of man, and can not be dissolved by 
 men's laws. That, as you are no doubt aware, has always been 
 the authoritative teaching of the Catholic Church. Being a Cath- 
 olic, Miss Lescar's mother neither did nor could acknowledge the 
 power of any secular jurisdiction to set aside her marriage. She 
 simply bowed to the law of force. And her daughter, like her- 
 self, is the victim of that law." 
 
 " You seem to know a great deal about the matter and to be 
 very much interested in it," said Miss Dysart, unable to repress a 
 tone of sarcasm. 
 
 "I do not imagine that I know more than you do, 1 ' replied 
 the Marquis. "The only difference is our way of looking at 
 facts." 
 
 " And does Count Waldegrave take the same view as your- 
 self? " she asked, with the sarcastic tone still more plain. 
 
 " For the view which Count Waldegrave takes I must refer
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 455 
 
 you to Count Waldegrave," said the Marquis. And then, with a 
 bow, he left the carriage. 
 
 "Waldegrave, meanwhile, after parting with Miss Dysart, had 
 gone directly to the " Europa," where he sent his card to Stan- 
 hope. 
 
 The latter had not gone out, and, when the young Count was 
 shown up, met him eagerly. " I hope," he said, " that I may 
 congratulate you." 
 
 "On the contrary," Waldegrave answered, "you may con- 
 gratulate yourself on the accuracy of your judgment. I have ac- 
 complished nothing." 
 
 " Irene refuses all overtures ? " 
 
 " All absolutely and entirely." 
 
 "I feared as much. You did not know the force with which 
 you had to cope." 
 
 " I have learned it, however its strength, its intensity and I 
 shall know better how to cope with it a second time." 
 
 Stanhope regarded the speaker with surprise. "Then you 
 have not resigned all thought of success ? " he asked. 
 
 "How can I resign it, when so much depends upon success?" 
 was the reply. " I do not speak of my own wishes, but of all her 
 future life. Think of the difference in the eyes of the world be- 
 tween what she is and what she would be as Prince Waldegrave'a 
 acknowledged daughter! Think, again, of the difference in 
 prospect before her now, and before her if she accepted his 
 offer ! " 
 
 " I do think of and fully realize it all," said Stanhope ; " but 
 what then ? You can not move her." 
 
 "She must be moved," said Waldegrave. "It is incredible 
 that the will of a mere girl can not be bent by the influence of 
 every one whom she respects or loves. Of your influence I hope 
 that I am certain." 
 
 " Perfectly certain but the trouble is, that I have none." 
 
 " Who has any, then ? Mrs. Falconer ? As a woman of the 
 world, she must see what is the wise thing to advocate." 
 
 " Mrs. Falconer is not so much a woman of the world, in some 
 of her ideas, as you might imagine," answered Stanhope, thinking
 
 456 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 of some ideas which Mrs. Falconer had uttered that morning. 
 "But with the hest will in the world, and although there is a' 
 strong attachment between herself and Irene, I am sure that on 
 this subject her advocacy would have no more weight than yours 
 or mine. As I told you before, if her mother's prayer could not 
 move the girl, no influence which could be brought to bear by 
 any one else would have the least effect." 
 
 Waldegrave was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Yet it 
 is evident that passionate affection for her mother is the chief 
 root of her determination. Her resentment is less for herself 
 than for one whom she calls 'the only creature that she ever 
 perfectly loved.' " 
 
 " I am quite sure of that," said Stanhope. " It is her mother's 
 wrong which is chiefly in her mind, and naturally she feels it more 
 because it has not been long since death robbed her of that pas- 
 sionately loved mother. But this only makes the case more hope- 
 less. If it were a selfish resentment, the atonement which is of- 
 fered would suffice. But you can not atone for the wrong done 
 one who has passed beyond the reach of man's injustice." 
 
 "No atonement would be possible if she were living," said 
 "Waldegrave. " Unfortunately, that is a point upon which Irene 
 has fastened." 
 
 "And a point which it is difficult for you to get over," said 
 Stanhope, with a smile. " The best advice I can offer you is this : 
 if you are a wise man, you will rest satisfied with what you have 
 done, and think no more of this girl. She is impracticable." 
 
 " Then I am not a wise man," said Waldegrave, " for I do not 
 intend to rest satisfied. On the contrary, I shall return to Nice 
 and endeavor to persuade my uncle to come to Rome and try his 
 personal influence. One who has been so deeply injured deserves 
 that every possible amende shall be made to her." 
 
 "I scarcely think that Prince Waldegrave will risk his dignity 
 in such an interview," said Stanhope, gravely " and I am sure 
 that he will regret it if he does." 
 
 " There is no reason why any one should regret an attempt to 
 atone, even if the atonement is refused by the person to whom it 
 is offered," said Waldegrave. " The offer of justice coming from 
 my uncle must have more weight than when coming from me ;
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 457 
 
 and I trust much to the influence of his presence of his strong 
 personal magnetism." 
 
 Stanhope shook his head. " Trust to nothing of the kind," 
 he said. " It will not affect Irene. She has a heart of steel. It 
 may break it will never bend. But because I believe that you 
 will fail, it does not follow that I should not wish you to succeed 
 if success were possible." 
 
 " It must be made possible," said Waldegrave. " I am not 
 daunted by her refusal. I believe that in the end she will yield. 
 Even steel bends if subjected to sufficient heat." 
 
 "You deserve to succeed," said Stanhope, with a smile. "But 
 let me ask if you have forgotten what I told you of the Marquis 
 de Chateaumesnil ? " 
 
 "No," answered the other, rising, "and the field is open to 
 him. I only hope that, if he succeeds, he may use whatever in- 
 fluence he acquires to induce her to take the simple justice of 
 her birthright." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LATER the same afternoon, as Erne was crossing the Piazza di 
 Spagna toward the Trinita de' Monti steps, he was struck by the 
 figure of a lady who, attended by a maid, descended the steps and 
 walked in the direction of the Propaganda. He knew Irene at 
 once ; for, though she was closely veiled, the grace which distin- 
 guished her was unmistakable, and involuntarily he turned also 
 and followed her. 
 
 He had not far to go. Passing around the massive walls of 
 the Propaganda, she entered the church of Sant' Andrea delle 
 Fratte, which is situated in its rear. Erne entered also, but being 
 much behind her, found that he had lost sight of the slender figure 
 when he stood within the church. That, however, did not dis- 
 turb him ; it would be quite certain to reappear. Many forms 
 were moving about the nave and kneeling at the different chapels 
 a diverse throng, such as may be seen in any Roman church : 
 here a feeble beggar, come to thank God for the alms of the day, 
 and ask for the bread of the morrow ; there a princely gentleman, 
 with the inherited culture of centuries stamped upon him, kneel- 
 20
 
 458 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 ing on the pavement near a laborer, toil-worn from his day's 
 work ; there a great lady, side by side with a humble woman of 
 the people for this is the one spot of earth where man's vain 
 dream of equality is realized and practiced. It was past the hour 
 when tourists, armed with red-backed guide-books, wander about 
 the churches, reading descriptions of famous pictures, but discern- 
 ing nothing of the spiritual glory around them. An air of quiet 
 devotion filled this twilight hour. Presently some sweet unseen 
 voices began to sing, lights flashed out on an altar there was to 
 be Benediction. 
 
 It was then that Erne saw Irene again. She was kneeling in 
 the circle of light, and the face which she had unveiled was white 
 as a lily, with eyes gleaming like stars under the dark lashes and 
 brows. The young man knew nothing of Waldegrave's visit he 
 had never been informed, save by his own vague jealousy, of any 
 intentions or hopes of the latter but he recognized at once, on 
 the face he knew and loved, signs that the spirit had been, per- 
 haps still was, deeply moved. There seemed to him a whole 
 drama of feeling in that pale, sensitive countenance, in those 
 violet-shadowed, brilliant eyes. He glanced at her hands. They 
 were clasped tightly together with the unconscious force of one 
 who is enduring either physical or mental pain, while her gaze 
 was fastened without wavering on the Host, before which priest 
 and people knelt, motionless as statues. 
 
 As the sweet chanting ceased, the priest, rising, took down 
 the monstrance, with its flashing rays, to lift it in benediction. 
 Every head bent Irene's so far forward that her forehead al- 
 most touched the pavement and then, after an interval, the 
 candles on the altar were extinguished, and the kneeling forms, 
 one by one, began to rise and move away. Erne waited until 
 Irdne rose, then he went outside and stood on the steps waiting 
 for her. But she was long in appearing so long, that he began 
 to question whether she might not have left by another door, 
 when the heavy curtain lifted, and, followed by her attendant, she 
 came out. 
 
 His first glance showed him that a change had passed over her 
 face. It was still strikingly pale, but more serene in expression ; 
 and a slight moisture clung to her long, dark lashes. She looked
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 459 
 
 surprised when she saw him, but held out her hand with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Have you been in the church? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes," he answered. "I followed you when you went in. 
 And since the end of the Benediction I have been waiting here 
 for you." 
 
 "I am sorry that you have had to wait so long," she said; 
 "but I paused to speak to Monsignor R ." 
 
 " You are in trouble," said the young man, with a quick glance 
 at her face. " I recognized that as soon as I saw you." 
 
 "Yes," she replied, "I am in trouble in the shadow of an 
 old grief and the stress of a struggle. But do not speak of it. I 
 feel calmer since I entered here, and I have heard some words of 
 counsel that will help me. But it is later than I thought. Come, 
 Betta, we must hasten home." 
 
 "I may come with you, may I not? " asked Erne. 
 
 " You know the laws of propriety better than I do," she an- 
 swered, smiling. "I suppose you may be permitted to walk with 
 me so far since I am not alone." 
 
 " I was on my way to Mrs. Falconer's when I saw you, and, 
 of course, followed you," he said, as they descended the steps and 
 walked together. "I had a special object in the visit to propose 
 to her some definite arrangements for the visit to Cori and Norba 
 that you wish to make." 
 
 " Ah, I should like that ! " said Irene, quickly. " I should be 
 glad to go anywhere away from Eome -just now." 
 
 To Erne's lips leaped the words, "Who is annoying you in 
 Eome ? " But he restrained them, conscious that he had no right 
 to ask and after a short pause, said : 
 
 " Then we must go. I will urge my cousin to make an imme- 
 diate appointment." 
 
 "And what of Ninfa, the fairy city buried in flowers? " she 
 asked. " Shall we not go there ? " 
 
 " Certainly we shall. It is because I am so anxious for you to 
 see it that I do not want to delay the visit later, on account of the 
 danger of fever in visiting Ninfa." 
 
 " Then pray let us go at once. If Mrs. Falconer would con- 
 sent, I should like to start to-morrow."
 
 460 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " That is hardly possible, bnt I want her to arrange her engage- 
 ments so that we may go early next week." 
 
 " I hope she will consent to do so," said Irene. 
 
 They now reached the end of their short walk, and found Mrs. 
 Falconer in the sala, rather anxiously awaiting Irene, who had 
 gone out before she returned. It was a relief to her to see the 
 girl enter, looking so much as usual, and with such a pleased and 
 friendly expression. 
 
 " I am afraid you thought it strange when you heard that I had 
 gone out," she said; " but of course I had Betta with me, and I 
 went no farther than Sant' Andrea delle Fratte, where I wished to 
 
 see Monsignor R . That detained me ; and when I came out 
 
 I found Mr. Erne on the steps of the church." 
 
 " Whence he thought that Mrs. Grundy would permit him to 
 escort Miss Lescar to her own threshold," said Erne, regarding his 
 cousin half defiantly. 
 
 But Mrs. Falconer had no disposition to play the part of Mrs. 
 Grundy with any degree of severity. She had feared she knew 
 not what explosion on Irene's part after Count Waldegrave's visit, 
 and her serenity was a delightful surprise. A few more words 
 were exchanged, then Irene left the room to make her toilet for 
 dinner, and Erne immediately said : 
 
 " Miss Lescar is in trouble. What has occurred to annoy her ? " 
 
 " How do you know that she is in trouble ? " asked Mrs. Fal- 
 coner, surprised at the quickness of his penetration. 
 
 u By her face which tells everything," he answered. " Not 
 her face as it was looking when she left the room, but with the 
 expression it wore when she was kneeling in the church that 
 of one who has just emerged, or was still suffering, from some 
 storm of passion." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Falconer, " there had been, no doubt, such 
 a storm. Count Waldegrave was here this afternoon can you 
 imagine for what purpose ? " 
 
 The young man turned pale. "It could only be for one," he 
 replied. " He wishes to marry her." 
 
 " He does wish to marry her," his cousin answered ; " but that 
 was not likely to have been as exciting intelligence as something 
 else which he had to say. He came as Prince Waldegrave's
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 461 
 
 envoy bearing his offer to acknowledge, and receive her as his 
 daughter." 
 
 "And she answered ? " 
 
 " What would you suppose, from your knowledge of her char- 
 acter, that she answered? " 
 
 " I should say that she refused to entertain such a proposal." 
 
 " She did refuse absolutely. I have heard it from Mr. Stan- 
 hope, who had just left when you came in ; and his information 
 was from the best possible source Count Waldegrave himself." 
 
 "And Count Waldegrave's matrimonial proposal she also 
 refused that ? " 
 
 " She refused everything that uncle or nephew, separately or 
 together, could offer." 
 
 "She is a magnificent creature! " cried Erne, rising with an 
 unconsciously exultant movement. "I always knew that." 
 
 " She is an inflexible creature," said Mrs. Falconer. " I do not 
 blame her for refusing to take anything from the father who dis- 
 owned her mother and herself; but I wish she could subdue the 
 bitterness of her resentment toward him." 
 
 "In short," said Erne, "you would like her to talk of forgive- 
 ness while she proved her resentment by deeds that speak more 
 loudly than many words. You are inconsistent. Either she should 
 take what her father extends, and bury the past in her mother's 
 grave, or she should not talk of a forgiveness that bears no prac- 
 tical fruit." 
 
 "Your opinion is expressed with sufficient decision," said Mrs. 
 Falconer; " but, since I am not aware that it rests on any ground 
 but that of your own not infallible judgment, I must be pardoned 
 if I differ from it." 
 
 "At all events," said Erne, "what you tell me accounts for 
 her appearance as she was kneeling in church, unconscious that 
 any eyes were observing her." 
 
 " Naturally since people do not go to church to be stared at. 
 But when did the change occur for I was surprised at her ex- 
 pression when she came in ? " 
 
 " Her face had changed when she left the church. But I flat- 
 ter myself that I had something to do with her look when she 
 came in here. I had just told her that I was on ray way, as I met
 
 462 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 her, to ask you to make arrangements for our visit to Norba and 
 Ninf a and she said at once : ' I shall like that. I should be glad 
 to go anywhere away from Eome just now ! ' " 
 
 " I am sorry that you did not speak to me before telling her of 
 your intention," said Mrs. Falconer, gravely, "for it is very nec- 
 essary that she should not leave Eome just now." 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Erne, in displeased astonishment. " Does 
 Count Waldegrave object ? " 
 
 " My dear Lionel, sarcasm is not your forte. And you may be 
 sure that I have a good reason for what I say." 
 
 " Is your reason a mysterious as well as a good one ? " 
 
 " It is confidential, at least but I will trust you with it. Brief- 
 ly, then, Count Waldegrave goes to Nice to endeavor to induce 
 his uncle to come and himself make the offer of atonement which 
 has been rejected by her. Of course, it is possible that Prince 
 Waldegrave may refuse to do anything of the kind ; but should 
 he come, it would look very badly if we, Irene's friends, had car- 
 ried her away." 
 
 " It is what she would wish," said Erne. " She must have had 
 an instinct of this when she spoke so eagerly of longing to go 
 away." 
 
 " Nevertheless, she must not be allowed to go. I do not think 
 that, if Count Waldegrave persuades his uncle to come, the visit 
 will have any effect upon her. But if she were won to accept her 
 father's proposal, the change in her life and all her life's prospects 
 would be so great, that no one could venture to throw any obsta- 
 cle in the path that might lead to such a result." 
 
 " And to another result which might or might not prove as 
 happy her marriage with Count Waldegrave," said Erne, a little 
 bitterly. 
 
 "I do not think of that," said Mrs. Falconer. "I have no 
 idea that she will ever consent to marry him ; and, although his 
 own wishes shape his conduct somewhat, Mr. Stanhope is sure 
 that he is disinterestedly anxious for her to accept what he con- 
 siders but simple justice." 
 
 Erne did not speak for a moment. He walked across the floor, 
 drew a flower from a vase full of blossoms, inhaled its fragrance 
 absently, then replaced it, and returned.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 463 
 
 " What a fate hers has heen ! " he said, abruptly. " And what 
 will her destiny be ? I am never with her without feeling that it 
 can not be a common one." 
 
 "It may be a very brilliant one if she chooses," said Mrs. 
 Falconer. 
 
 " Yes as Prince Waldegrave's daughter, or Count Walde- 
 grave's wife. But she will never choose to be either. I am sure 
 of that." 
 
 He spoke in the tone of one who challenges contradiction. 
 But Mrs. Falconer did not contradict him. What had been in her 
 mind was something altogether different but something which 
 she could not mention to Erne the suit of the Marquis de Cha- 
 teaumesnil. 
 
 Fortunately, a servant at that moment entered with lights, 
 and the whole apartment was soon full of that soft radiance which 
 only wax-candles in great numbers produce. Then, as the door- 
 bell sounded, Mrs. Falconer said : 
 
 " M. de Chateaumesnil dines here this evening ; and, if we dis- 
 cuss your expedition, Lionel, we must ask him to join it." 
 
 To which, unsuspicious Lionel who had no doubt that in the 
 end he should see his cousin Marquise de Chateaumesnil replied 
 that nothing could give him greater pleasure than that the Mar- 
 quis should be asked to join them. 
 
 Several hours later, her guests having departed, Mrs. Falconer 
 bade Mrs. Vance good-night and followed Irne who had already 
 at the first opportunity retired. Passing down the suite of recep- 
 tion-rooms, through the boudoir which, in its air of inviolate 
 quiet, gave no hint of the scene it had witnessed that afternoon 
 she entered her own chamber, and, crossing it, knocked at a 
 closed door. 
 
 " Entrez ! " said a low voice ; and, when she entered the room, 
 Irene lifted herself from a couch on which she had evidently 
 thrown herself in an abandonment of weariness. She was look- 
 ing very tired her complexion as colorless, the violet shadows 
 under her eyes as deep, as when Erne had seen her in the church 
 and, struck by her appearance, Mrs. Falconer exclaimed : 
 
 "How sorry I am that any one was here this evening! I
 
 464: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 should not have asked the Marquis to dine if I had known that 
 you would be so exhausted or, rather, that you would have to 
 encounter what exhausted you." 
 
 "And why should I have encountered it? " asked Irene, in a 
 tone of reproach. " Why did you betray me in such a manner ? " 
 
 "I felt like a wretch," said Mrs. Falconer, sitting down by 
 her. " But what could I do ? I knew that you would not have 
 seen Count Waldegrave without stratagem, and both Mr. Stan- 
 hope and myself felt that you ought to see him that you ought 
 to hear what he had to say. We could not take the responsibility 
 of permitting you to decide without fully knowing what you were 
 doing." 
 
 "That only shows how little you know me," said Irene. 
 " What could Count Waldegrave possibly have to say that would 
 alter facts? Can he, or can the man in whose name he spoke, 
 bring back my mother, wipe out the wrong that was done her, 
 the years of injustice and suffering? When they can I told him 
 that they may come and talk to me of reparation ! " 
 
 "But, my dear child," said Mrs. Falconer, who would not 
 acknowledge how nearly this was her own view of the case, " you 
 must not be unjust in turn. You must not confound Count Wal- 
 degrave with his uncle. He had no share in your mother's wrong, 
 and he offers to you all that your mother lost. If you take it from 
 him, you will owe nothing to Prince Waldegrave. I am not urging 
 you to do so," the speaker added, quickly,-"! am only putting it 
 before you." 
 
 "He put it before me," said Irene; "and yet he dwelt very 
 little on himself. I will do him the justice to say that he seemed 
 to think most of me. He urged me to accept Prince Waldegravc's 
 offer. He dwelt little on his own." 
 
 " That is strange," said Mrs. Falconer. " Instinct should have 
 told him that his own was the one to dwell upon." 
 
 "Then he would have made a mistake," said Irene. "He 
 would have produced no more impression upon me with one than 
 with the other. But I should have been less struck with his 
 nobility and unselfishness." 
 
 "Oh!" said Mrs. Falconer rather a long "Oh!" "you 
 icsre struck with those things?"
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 465 
 
 " I could not fail to be. Even after he heard that I would not 
 marry him, and after I acknowledged that I had been glad to 
 think that he loved me, because that lie should suffer through me 
 seemed a sort of retribution, he was not the less earnest in his 
 desire that I should, at least, accept Prince Waldegrave's atone- 
 ment. One feels sincerity. I felt that he was sincere in desiring 
 this in begging me to rise above resentment, to conquer wrong 
 by forgiving it. That was my mother's way. But along that road 
 I can not follow her ! and this is the struggle in which I have 
 been, as it were, rent asunder." 
 
 She looked as if she had been. Her very lips were drained of 
 color, and the shining of her great eyes showed the excitement 
 which still wrought upon the high-strung temperament like ill- 
 ness. As she fell back again upon the cushions of her couch, her 
 glance turned to a beautiful picture of her mother which hung at 
 its foot, and, following the direction of her gaze, Mrs. Falconer 
 said : 
 
 "Does it occur to you to consider what your mother would 
 bid you decide in this important moment of your life ? " 
 
 Ir&ne put up her hands as if warding off a blow. " Do not ask 
 me ! " she said. u I can not ask myself. I am like one torn in 
 two. My mother seems arrayed on both sides. I hear her voice 
 her dying voice bidding me forgive. But forgiving does not 
 can not mean taking for myself what she was robbed of 1 I am 
 not bound to accept reparation, though I am bound to forgive. 
 And I can not I can not ! " 
 
 It was only the old story a story as old as humanity, and 
 which will end only with humanity the terrible struggle of 
 nature in the effort to subject itself to a law higher than nature. 
 Mrs. Falconer was silent. She felt that in this battle of the soul 
 she could take no part ; and she also felt that Irne needed quiet- 
 ing rather than further excitement. So, presently, she said : 
 
 " Let us talk no more of this. Try to think of something else. 
 Think of our journey to the hills. You will like that." 
 
 " Yes, I shall like it," Ir&ie answered. " I feel a longing for 
 great heights for wide distances. The soul, as well as the body, 
 seems to breathe more freely in such places to feel a higher 
 atmosphere to reach after nobler things."
 
 466 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "And we shall be a pleasant party just ourselves, with 
 Lionel, Mr. Stanhope, and the Marquis. I hope you do not object 
 to M. de Chateaumesnil going with us? " 
 
 "Not at all. You know that I like him very much, and 
 always find him very sympathetic." 
 
 "He certainly finds you sympathetic," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 smiling. "It is a pity that he never found me so nor I him, 
 save in limited degree." Then she added, " Have I told you that 
 all is over between us that I have declined the honor of his 
 hand?" 
 
 "No," answered Irene, with quick interest; "you have not 
 told me before. Have you indeed done so ? And yet he comes 
 here apparently unchanged ? " 
 
 " "Why not ? There was no feeling to be wounded on either 
 side. We are still good friends." 
 
 " I am sorry and yet I am not sorry," said Irene, after an in- 
 terval of silence. " I should have been glad to see you filling a 
 position for which you are so well fitted ; but I should have hated 
 to see you marry a man who did not love you as yon deserve to 
 be loved. Even M. de Chateaumesnil is not worthy of you, if he 
 does not offer devotion as well as rank." 
 
 "Devotion is what he did not offer to me," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. " But I think that he will one day offer it to some one 
 else." She paused hesitated then, with the air of making a 
 general remark, went on: "This troublesome thing of marriage 
 meets one at every turn. If one does not marry one's self, all 
 one's friends do and that is almost as disagreeable. I confess 
 that I can not conceive why a man should ever wish to marry. 
 He is so free when unmarried! But a woman is different. 
 Unless she has some strong bent religious or artistic, let 
 us say it is better for her to marry, if she can marry well." 
 Another pause then, "Does it never occur to you, my dear, 
 to think of marriage as something that may concern your- 
 self?" 
 
 "Never," answered Irene. "I have told you the reasons why 
 I shall never think of marriage. They are not changed." 
 
 "But do you not feel that they may be changed by this 
 action on the part of your father ? Even if you accept noth-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 467 
 
 ing from him, his acknowledgment of the purity of your birth is 
 much." 
 
 " Then it would be to Prince Waldegrave I should be indebted 
 for a husband," said Irene, coldly. "I could hardly take even 
 that gift from his hand. No : I am able to stand alone and suf- 
 fice for myself. I will take my inheritance of wrong to no man 
 let his name or rank be what it will." 
 
 This was a little dismaying to Mrs. Falconer, who, whatever 
 her opinion of matrimony as regarded herself, had, as we have 
 seen, a modicum at least of the usual feminine love of match-mak- 
 ing, and who felt bound to protest when she saw this young and 
 beautiful creature turning away from brilliant possibilities. " My 
 dear child," she said, gravely, "I do not like to hear you talk in 
 such a manner. Believe me, it is not reasonable. You are too 
 young to decide so positively for all your life. You do not know 
 what you are doing." 
 
 " I think that I know perfectly," answered Irene, " and there 
 is nothing in the prospect which daunts me. Why should it? If 
 I had ever doubted how delightful the life of an unmarried woman 
 can be made, your life would reassure me." 
 
 "Ah! but I have been married," said Mrs. Falconer. "That 
 makes a great difference in the eyes of the world. And I am 
 rich. I do not mean to be cynical, but experience tells me that 
 everything is possible to wealth if one knows how to use it." 
 
 "I have not been married, and I am not rich," said Irene, with 
 a slight smile, " yet I am not afraid of my future. There are all 
 the delights of the intellect and of art ; and, if I find life too tame, 
 I can any day step on the lyric stage and make it what I will." 
 
 " I am not in the least afraid that you will ever do that," said 
 Mrs. Falconer. " You are far too proud to forfeit social position 
 for the tinsel rank of the stage. I am sure there is not the daugh- 
 ter of a princely house in Home who would shrink from such a 
 step more than yourself." 
 
 "And do you think there is one let her blood have come 
 down through what centuries of nobles you will who could 
 shrink from it more than she did ? " asked the girl, pointing to her 
 mother's picture. " And yet she had to bear it for me ! And I 
 am asked to forgive the man who made such martyrdom neces-
 
 468 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 sary. O my mother my proud, brave, beautiful mother I would 
 rather follow your footsteps over burning plowshares than take 
 the wealth of a kingdom from him! " 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHEN Waldegrave arrived at his uncle's villa the second time, 
 it was without announcement of his coming, and the servants, who 
 received him with well-bred surprise, informed him that the 
 Prince and Princess had driven into Nice. 
 
 "Very well," he replied. "Let his Excellency be informed, 
 as soon as he returns, of my arrival. I shall probably be found in 
 the garden." 
 
 And, indeed, as soon as he had changed his dress, he descended 
 to that paradise where on his last visit he had wandered under 
 the stars and dreamed such exquisite and vain dreams. It was 
 even more beautiful now in the late afternoon of a perfect day 
 than it had been then. And it was a paradise in which he was 
 as much alone as Adam was before the creation of Eve. No foot- 
 step but his own echoed down the green arcades, under the glossy 
 foliage where oranges gleamed like veritable fruit of the Hesperides, 
 and the golden blossoms of the mimosa swayed to the soft sea- 
 breeze. No eye but his own marked the indescribable shades of 
 color on the wide plain that spread to the far horizon until sea 
 and sky melted into one divine harmony of tint. No glance but 
 his own followed the majestic sweeping curve of the shore, 
 watched the misty amethyst of distant mountains, the shimmering 
 silver light on nearer olive-clad slopes, the icy glitter of Alpine 
 summits cutting against the deep-blue sky, and the towers on far 
 seaward promontories. Sunlight was dying over the waters, the 
 enchanting tints of twilight were at hand. Already a marvelous 
 rosy glow lay like a pathway across the sea, stretching from the 
 pearly headlands of Italy to remote distance a pathway that 
 might have been made by the feet of Aphrodite herself. But the 
 presence which Waldegrave had once fancied beside him here 
 would come no more not even in fancy. He saw instead the 
 pale, disdainful face which had so lately confronted him, and the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 469 
 
 cold gentleness with which Ir&ne had held out her hand in a fare- 
 well that she meant to be final. 
 
 He was standing by the marble balustrade of the terrace, look- 
 ing out over the beauty of sea and sky a beauty that deepened 
 momently when a voice beside him said, "So, Otto, you are 
 back again ! " and, turning, he faced his uncle. 
 
 They greeted each other warmly for the affection between 
 them was deep and sincere and then Prince Waldegrave asked, 
 like Stanhope, "Am I to congratulate you? " 
 
 The young man shook his head. "No," he replied. "She 
 has proved immovable and implacable." 
 
 " Ah ! " Prince Waldegrave's countenance changed " I 
 feared that it might be so. I am sorry for you." 
 
 "And I am sorry for her," said Waldegrave. "If it were 
 merely a disappointment to myself, I could bear it, as many a man 
 has had to bear such a disappointment. But it is of her that I 
 think. She is refusing more than she knows or can understand, 
 in refusing your offer." 
 
 " She is refusing much more in declining yours," said his uncle. 
 
 "No," said "Waldegrave, "for many men might offer her love 
 as great and rank as high as mine. But no one besides yourself 
 can offer what you do." 
 
 " And what reason does she give for refusing it? " 
 
 " She will take nothing from one who has disowned her moth- 
 er and herself." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Prince, again. " What, then, is to be done ? 
 Have you anything to propose ? " 
 
 " I have one thing to propose," Waldegrave answered. " But 
 it is a forlorn hope, and I am doubtful whether you will think 
 of it." 
 
 "What is it? " asked his uncle. "I will think of almost any- 
 thing that may secure the gratification of your wishes." This was 
 easier than to say, " The quieting of my conscience." 
 
 " Will you make your offer in person ? " asked Waldegrave. 
 Then, as he saw surprise and disinclination on the Prince's face, 
 he went on quickly : " I only ask you to think of it. And for this 
 reason I have gained some personal softening toward myself, but 
 toward you her deep and passionate resentment is so great that
 
 470 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 nothing which I can urge has any effect in overcoming it. Yet 
 it must be overcome if she is ever to accept what I earnestly hope 
 she may accept." 
 
 "But," said the Prince, after a moment's silence, "if her re- 
 sentment is so intense, how can you imagine that a personal effort 
 on my part would have any effect upon her ? " 
 
 " Because, in the first place, it is a propitiation which is due to 
 one who has been deeply wronged ; and, in the second place, there 
 is a magnetism in a personal appeal which no words conveyed 
 through another can possess." 
 
 "An appeal," said his uncle, a little haughtily, "is what I can 
 not condescend to make." 
 
 " Then," said Waldegrave, " you must resign all hope of mak- 
 ing reparation." 
 
 The Prince walked to the end of the terrace, turned and came 
 back. 
 
 " I confess," he said, " that I do not understand your motive for 
 such a request. If she has softened toward you, and if she enter- 
 tains a deep and bitter resentment toward me, surely you are, of 
 the two, the person who would be most likely to have influence 
 with her." 
 
 " It is mockery to speak of such a thing," answered the young 
 man. " So far from having any influence, I am sure that she will 
 never willingly see me again. But if I, merely by personal asso- 
 ciation, have softened toward myself her bitter feeling, what might 
 not'contact with you effect ? " 
 
 " Resentment does not always yield to contact," said the 
 Prince. " It is sometimes intensified by it." 
 
 " That is impossible in this case Irene's resentment could not 
 be intensified." 
 
 " And yet you think there is a hope that it might yield ? " 
 
 "Hardly a hope or, as I have said, only a forlorn one. But 
 I think that neither you nor I would wish to leave untried even 
 the forlornest hope of inducing her to accept atonement and jus- 
 tice." 
 
 "I am more anxious that she shall accept you," said the 
 Prince, slightly smiling. 
 
 " And I," said "Waldegrave, " think least of that. It is true
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 471 
 
 that she is the ideal woman to me, and that I am sure I shall 
 never find another who will take the place in my heart that she 
 holds : it is also true that I have not resigned all hope of winning 
 something beside the tolerance which she gives me now. But for 
 the present I have put thought of myself aside. What I desire 
 most ardently is that she may take the rank and fill the position 
 which is hers by right of birth." 
 
 There was another silence before the Prince said, abruptly : 
 " Tell me all that passed between you. What did she say? " 
 
 This was not an easy task, for Waldegrave shrank from repeat- 
 ing Irene's fiery words. It was necessary, however, that they 
 should be repeated, since he did not wish his uncle to have any 
 doubt of the depth of her resentment. When he had described 
 the interview as faithfully as possible, he added : 
 
 "In all this she reminded me, more strongly than I can say, of 
 yourself. The will that is arrayed against you is the will that she 
 has inherited from you. I thought I had never seen a more strik- 
 ing likeness of child to parent than was in her face when she 
 stood before me, a picture of pride and resolution." 
 
 " Then," said the Prince, " it is a will that I ought to be able 
 to bend. I, who have bent the wills of many men, could hardly 
 fail with that of a mere girl." 
 
 " This mere girl," said Waldegrave, " has a strength of which 
 you do not reckon. As her guardian said of her the other day, 
 she has a heart of steel, which may break but will not bend." 
 
 " Then why," demanded his uncle, again, " do you wish me 
 to make a vain sacrifice of my dignity by going to her ? " 
 
 " Because," was the reply, " I hope that, by such a step, you 
 may appeal to what is as strong as her will her generosity. I 
 have never known a nature that so quickly responds to a noble 
 thought or a generous deed. I have spoken of her softening 
 toward me what is the reason of it ? Simply that she recognizes 
 my desire to atone, and something of unselfishness in my love. 
 What, then, will she feel when you, her father, come to her and 
 hold out your hand with reparation in it ! " 
 
 Waldegrave's voice had taken its deepest tone of appeal as he 
 uttered these words. He spoke as one might who was pleading 
 in some cause dear as life itself. At that moment nobody could
 
 472 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 have called his face cold ; and Prince Waldegrave, after looking 
 at him for a moment in unconscious admiration, said : 
 
 " Whatever she may feel toward me, she will be blind if she 
 continues to refuse you, Otto." 
 
 " ' Sparta has many a worthier son than I,' " said Waldegrave, 
 with a slight, painful smile. He thought of the Marquis de Cha- 
 teaumesnil, but it was no part of his present intention to mention 
 him to the Prince. He felt quite sure that half at least of the 
 latter's desire to repair his daughter's wrong would vanish if he 
 knew that she was likely after all to marry some one else, and 
 that some one else a Frenchman, instead of the nephew who was 
 to him an adopted son. 
 
 Both men now walked up and down the terrace silently for 
 some time before Prince Waldegrave spoke again. Then he said, 
 meditatively, in the tone of one who is drawing reluctantly to a 
 decision : 
 
 " If I go to Rome, how can the matter be kept quiet ? I mean 
 my presence there." 
 
 " Oh," replied Waldegrave, " that shall be managed. I have 
 a servant who is invaluable for such work. I will send him in 
 advance, and he can arrange everything so that no one shall know 
 of your presence in Rome whom you do not choose to enlighten." 
 
 " Let him start to-night, then," said the Prince, " and we will 
 go to-morrow. I have no fancy for delay. Whatever is to be 
 done should be done at once." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AMONG all the beautiful and suggestive places of Rome, the 
 old garden of the Priorato, on the crest of the Aventine, is not 
 least beautiful, and certainly, in its associations and memories, 
 not least suggestive. The tourist knows it from the famous view 
 of St. Peter's which is to be had through the key-hole of the 
 gate where the wondrous dome is seen, rising in purple air at 
 the end of a green vista indefinitely prolonged. But, when those 
 massive gates are opened, the true charm begins. A beautiful 
 avenue of old bay-trees stretches before the gaze, framing in its
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 473 
 
 arch of foliage that distant, soaring dome a picture never to be 
 forgotten. On each side are beds of flowers and masses of shrub- 
 bery; but no one, entering for the first time, can heed them. 
 The most careless must follow the avenue as it leads to a terrace 
 overhanging the Tiber, which commands a view of the river, the 
 Trastevere, and in the direct line of vision, as a bird would fly 
 the glorious pile of St. Peter's, backed by Monte Mario, with its 
 crown of cypresses. 
 
 It was on a lovely afternoon that Mrs. Falconer and Irene 
 found themselves here, with Stanhope and the Marquis de Cha- 
 teaumesnil. A sudden rush of fragrance met them as they en- 
 tered the gate, and, looking up, they saw that the bay -trees over- 
 head were white with blossoms. The custodian broke off one for 
 each of them, and Irene fastened hers in her belt, where its glossy, 
 pointed leaves and waxen petals showed effectively against her 
 black dress. 
 
 " It is the tree of glory," she said, looking at the Marquis ; 
 " and therefore appropriate here in this garden of the Knights of 
 Malta." 
 
 " It could scarcely be more appropriate anywhere in the world," 
 he replied. " I have lately been glancing over the history of the 
 great military orders especially that of the Knights Hospitallers 
 of St. John of Jerusalem, now called the Order of Malta and I 
 know of nothing to equal it as a record of heroic courage and 
 splendid deeds." 
 
 " They were for centuries the bulwark of Christendom, saving 
 its fairest lands from the fate of Byzantium," said Stanhope. 
 " The debt of gratitude which Europe owes them is incalculable." 
 
 "And paid how ? " asked Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " As such debts are usually paid," said the Marquis, " with 
 forgetfulness and robbery. The forgetfulness is not wonderful. 
 They were, before all things, soldiers of the Cross and a world 
 which has turned from the Cross, and, in the persons of its leaders 
 and chief teachers, enthroned humanity in the place of God, is 
 not likely to have much in sympathy with them. There is noth- 
 ing by which a man, or a society, can be judged more accurately 
 than by the objects of its admiration. Modern society worships at 
 the feet of Mammon and of Self. It can, therefore, no more con-
 
 474 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 ceive the motives than it can emulate the deeds of men who re- 
 nounced worldly gain for noble ends, and denied self that they 
 might serve God and Christendom. The robbery also is natural 
 enough considering the power from which it comes. The Island 
 of Malta, aa you are no doubt aware, belongs to them by gift of 
 the Emperor Charles V hence they are a sovereign order, and 
 their Grand Master has the rank of a sovereign prince. But 
 Malta, having been taken by France, when France was under 
 worse than infidel domination, in 1798, it fell by conquest into 
 the grasp of England ; and, although by the Treaty of Amiens its 
 restoration to the order was distinctly stipulated, England faith- 
 ful to her traditions has not observed the guarantee or restored 
 Hie island." 
 
 "The order still exercises sovereign prerogatives, however," 
 said Stanhope, " and keeps an embassador at most of the courts of 
 Europe." 
 
 "I have seen their embassador among the diplomatic corps at 
 the royal entertainments in Vienna," said Mrs. Falconer. " A 
 striking figure, with a white cross on the breast of his gold cuirass, 
 and the ones of Malta on the shoulder of his black-velvet 
 mantle." 
 
 "Ah, if you wish to see a noble mediaeval figure one that 
 carries the mind back to all the glories of chivalry and of f dth 
 you should see the Grand Master himself," said Irene. ' I saw 
 
 him the day I went with the Princess M to the Cappella 
 
 Papale in the Sistine CbapeL He was seated in the royal tribune, 
 with two knights in waiting, and attended by a Cameriere di 
 Spada e Cappa and a guard of honor. There were many splendid 
 and picturesque figures present, but, until the Holy Father ap- 
 peared, I could look at no one but the Grand Master. It was not 
 only his appearance that fascinated me, bat the thought of all that 
 ie represented of Jerusalem, of Acre, of Rhodes, of Malta, of 
 all those centuries when the tide of Moslem invasion threatened 
 Europe, and they stood those glorious soldiers like a wall of 
 steel ! and made the crescent bow before the cross." 
 
 "The Sistine Chapel was a fine place for such memories," said 
 Stanhope, smiling at her glowing look. 
 
 u Was it not! " she said, quickly. ' Fancy those grand fres-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 475 
 
 coes of Michael Angelo looking down, and the rich color and 
 majestic effect of the whole scene. In the royal tribune there was 
 the Grand Master, and the group which surrounded him could not 
 have been improved by a tocch, had Michael Angelo himself 
 wished to paint them. The diplomatic benches were filled with 
 embassadors to the Vatican. Then came the Roman nobility, 
 and a sprinkling of distinguished foreigners all in court-dress; 
 then the Cameriere Segreti in tbeir beautiful dress of velvet and 
 lace as if they had stepped out of Titian's pictures; then the 
 magnificent uniform of the Noble Guard, the scarlet robes of the 
 cardinals, the violet of the prelates ; and in the midst of all thrown 
 out by this glowing color one slender, stately figure in pure ivory- 
 white." 
 
 With what a face of steadfast power I " said Stanhope. " It 
 has none of that beauty of feature which made the face of Pius 
 IX so exquisite and memorable ; but if ever a human countenance 
 was expressive of intellectual and moral force, that of Leo XIII 
 is. And in his shadowy thinness in that look which he has of 
 being more spirit than matter with the courage of a lion in his 
 calm glance, and the sweetness of a saint on his lips, his is just 
 the type a great painter would select if this epoch were thrown 
 back a thousand years, and he wanted to embody a helmsman fit 
 to steer the bark of Peter through raging seas." 
 
 " It is impossible,'' said the Marquis, "to imagine anything more 
 majestic than the voice and the utterances of Leo XIII. In listen- 
 ing to him one feels elevated into a region as far above the mad 
 cries of revolutionaries and the vague dreams of theorists as the 
 eternal heaven is above the earth. And in the ability of a great 
 ruler, in diplomatic sagacity and profound wisdom, no one, in all 
 the long line of illustrious pontiffs, has surpassed him." 
 
 "None, certainly, have been surrounded by greater perils and 
 difficulties," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " Oh," said the Marquis, with a slight smile, "you forget that 
 what is going on to-day is an old story oft repeated. ' The ser- 
 vant is not greater than his master ' and the Pope is proved the 
 Vicar of Christ by nothing more than by the persecutions to 
 which in all ages he has been subjected. As divine lips have 
 assured us, the world will love its own ; but what is not of the
 
 476 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 world it will revile and persecute. Not Gregory VII alone, but 
 many another Pope, might have said, ' I have loved justice, and 
 hated iniquity therefore I die in exile.' " 
 
 " Apropos of Gregory VII," said Stanhope, " do you know that 
 this garden is peculiarly associated with him ? It was here he 
 was brought up as a boy under the care of his uncle, who was 
 abbot of the adjoining monastery." 
 
 "Here!" said Irene, looking around. "Here he walked 
 here studied and dreamed, and fitted himself in mind and heart 
 for the great struggle that lay before him eight hundred years 
 ago ! O Borne, Kome ! What can one say of a city where every 
 rod of earth has such thrilling memories and far-reaching asso- 
 ciations ? " 
 
 " One can be grateful for recognizing them," said the Marquis. 
 " Think of those to whom the glory that has encircled Rome for 
 more than a thousand years, and made her to all the earth a Holy 
 City, means nothing. Those to whom the Forum and the Capitol 
 are more than the shrines where martyrs poured out their blood 
 for God the tomb of Cecilia Metella of greater interest than the 
 tomb of the Apostles and the ruins of a heathen temple better 
 worth study than the noblest Christian basilica. That Christen- 
 dom beautiful name, expressing a more beautiful idea ! found 
 the key-stone of its arch here, is a fact as lost to their memory as 
 it is meaningless to their understanding. They are like children 
 from whom an inheritance has been torn, and who, standing in 
 their father's house, know it not." 
 
 They had now come to the terrace, which, bounded by a 
 high stone parapet, is on the rocky verge of the hill where it rises 
 in bold escarpment from the bank of the river. Bay-trees droop 
 over it ; and there is a seat where, with the Tiber at one's feet, 
 the Janiculum and the Vatican before one's eyes, one may sit and 
 let the enchantment of Rome sink into one's spirit. 
 
 "Speaking of Christendom," said Mrs. Falconer, as she sat 
 down on this, "I was reading the other day 'Traits and Traves- 
 ties,'* in which the author declares that Christendom should now 
 be called anti-Christendom, inasmuch as all that is put before 
 
 * This is a slight anachronism. Mr. Oliphant's brilliant book had not 
 appeared at the date of this story.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 477 
 
 modern society as its goal is directly opposed to the teaching of 
 Christ." 
 
 "It is very true," remarked Stanhope. "At the present time 
 there is not a single government, composing that which was once 
 called Christendom, which has not publicly repudiated the Chris- 
 tian basis. As I have observed before, the god which the nine- 
 teenth century worships is material progress ; and of a worship 
 so debasing, none other than debasing results can be expected. 
 Progress is a word of very attractive sound ; and it is the great 
 shibboleth of our age : but it should be remembered that there 
 are two kinds of progress one upward, the other downward. 
 And no progress can be truly regarded as upward which, while 
 increasing material comfort and material wealth, while multiply- 
 ing means of transportation and inventing Gatling guns, never- 
 theless ignores utterly the law of God as the foundation of public 
 order, forgets utterly the divine precept of charity, thrusts the 
 poor out of sight, to find them rising up arrayed in the awful 
 vengeance of class-hatred, and teaches men that they are not the 
 sons of God, but mere animals, destined to an animal end." 
 
 " Men dit ! " said the Marquis. " And that is a correct state- 
 ment of the progress which the Catholic Church and her Supreme 
 Pontiff are reviled for not indorsing. It is sad," he went on after 
 a brief pause, "to witness the rapid disintegration of that beauti- 
 ful and noble fabric of Christian states that established the splen- 
 did civilization to which we owe all that is good in our civil and 
 social order. The civilization which, during the ages that the 
 presumption of to-day calls ' dark,' filled Europe with houses of 
 learning, founded chivalry, practiced the boundless charity toward 
 Christ's poor which runs like a thread of gold through all its his- 
 tory, and left in the great monuments of its genius, achievements 
 which our boastful age is unable even to imitate." 
 
 " I often wonder," said Stanhope, meditatively, " what the 
 generations that are to come after will think of us when they look 
 at our architectural achievements, if Ruskin's dictum is to be ac- 
 cepted, that ' as great art is the expression of the mind of a great 
 man, so mean art is of the want of mind of a weak man.' " 
 
 " They will probably think with another writer that in such 
 achievements they see 'the evidence not of an advancing but of a
 
 >478 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 lost civilization ' unless they, too, are of the opinion that steam- 
 engines and newspapers constitute civilization," said Mrs. Fal- 
 coner. " Why, there is more genius, more poetry, more thought, 
 in one medieval building than in all the tame and idea-less edi- 
 fices of modern construction put together. Go to an ancient 
 square of Antwerp or a street of Nuremberg then think of Pic- 
 cadilly or the Boulevard Haussmann, and shudder ! " 
 
 " Or go yonder into the Trastevere, and think of the Via Nazio- 
 nale, near at hand! " said Irene. " It is hard that such barbarous 
 forces should have power, even for a day, to work their will in 
 Eome our Rome, the Eome of Christendom." 
 
 " Meanwhile we are forgetting how beautiful it is this Rome 
 as it lies below us now," said Mrs. Falconer. As she spoke she 
 rose, and, followed by Stanhope, walked to the end of the terrace, 
 where she paused, and, leaning over the parapet, looked down. 
 
 Between the river and the base of the cliff the cliff which 
 is the supposed site of the cave of the giant Cacus described by 
 Virgil winds the carriage-road which leads through the Porta 
 San Paolo to the great basilica of that namQ,fuori le mura, and 
 on to Ostia. Mrs. Falconer watched one or two carriages and 
 ox-carts pass along this road before saying in a low voice to Stan- 
 hope, who stood beside her : 
 
 " Let us go and look at the church did you not say it was in- 
 teresting ? We can return here presently." 
 
 "Very well," he answered. "I will speak to Irfene and the 
 Marquis." 
 
 "No do not! " she said, quickly. And as he looked at her, 
 she added, with a smile, " How stupid men are! " 
 
 " Are we ? " he asked, returning the smile. " Well, I suppose 
 so but, at least, we are docile to the dictates of intelligence 
 higher than our own. You wish, then, to go without them ? " 
 
 " I wish to go quietly, and let them follow if they like but 
 they will not follow." 
 
 They were, indeed, not conscious of being left alone. The 
 Marquis, having taken Mrs. Falconer's vacant seat beside Irene, 
 was pointing out to her Santa Cecilia across the river in the 
 Trastevere.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 479 
 
 " And there are the remains of the Sublician Bridge almost at 
 our feet," he said. " Do you remember that you spoke of it the 
 day I met you at San Pietro in Montorio ? And yonder is San Pie- 
 tro. How boldly it stands out on the height of the Janiculum ! " 
 
 "Yes," she said. Her gaze followed his pointing hand, but 
 he could see that a shadow had fallen across her delight in the 
 beauty of the prospect, and her eyes gathered the pathetic sad- 
 ness which he had often seen in them before. 
 
 " I remember that day," she said, in a tone as wistful as her 
 look. " I remember how we agreed that it is well to be in Rome, 
 because all wrong and all sorrow are more easily borne here than 
 elsewhere. But even here one can not always remember 'the 
 brevity of human injustice and the steadfastness of eternal truth.' 
 There are times when the sense of wrong conquers everything 
 else ; and one forgets, oh ! one forgets in an hour of bitterness, 
 the tears and prayers and meditations of months." 
 
 "And do you think that to conquer one's self that most stu- 
 pendous of all tasks is a work of months ? " he asked, with grave 
 gentleness. " It is rather a work of life." 
 
 " Then what a happy thing it would be if life were over ! " she 
 said, in the same wistful tone. "Is that like a coward wishing to 
 desert a battle ? But, how if the battle is too fierce, and one only 
 falls into deeper and deeper defeat ? When I enter these glorious 
 old churches, and stand by the tombs of those who left wrong 
 and struggle so long ago, I can only envy them." 
 
 " They would not deserve to be envied, however, if they had 
 desired to throw down their arms because the battle was fierce," 
 he said. " And it is not like you to feel in this manner. "Why 
 should you look at life so sadly you who are fitted for its bright- 
 est sunshine ? " 
 
 "Because the sunshine is darkened for me, by wrong without 
 and bitterness within," she answered. "Forgive me, if I tell you 
 nothing more." 
 
 He hesitated a moment it seemed to him that the time had 
 come to speak. He glanced around and saw the terrace deserted. 
 Mrs. Falconer and Stanhope had disappeared. Then he turned 
 back to Irene. 
 
 "Forgive me" he said, "if I tell you that I know all that
 
 480 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 there is to know regarding you. I know the story of the wrong 
 from which you have suffered, and I feel for you with every throb 
 of my heart. But what I do not know what I do not acknowl- 
 edge is that there is any reason why you should allow it to 
 darken one ray of the sunshine of your life." 
 
 She looked at him with a face that had suddenly grown paler. 
 " So, you know ! " she said, in a low tone. u "Well it does not 
 matter. Every one knows, I presume. And the fact that the 
 thought of such knowledge in the mind of another is like fire 
 near a burn to me, proves only my pride. But that answers what 
 you have said. Such tortured pride is enough to darken any sun- 
 shine." 
 
 " I think not," he said. " I think there may be a sunshine 
 warm enough and broad enough to banish even that." 
 
 "You think so," she answered, "because you do not under- 
 stand. If pride were all, I grant that it being only a form ot 
 self-love might be overcome. But you do not know all that is 
 enlisted in the struggle." 
 
 "I know more than you imagine, perhaps," he said; "and 
 my counsel would be this : Put the memory aside, try to forget 
 the wrong ; do not suffer it to triumph over you by darkening 
 your life and your nature." 
 
 "That would be good counsel," she said, "if I could follow it. 
 But everything prevents. Influences have come around me in an 
 unexpected manner. The struggle has been kept alive and re- 
 newed when I was trying most to forget. I have been brought 
 face to face with the question not whether I would accept any- 
 thing, for that could never be a question with me but whether I 
 could forgive, as I promised one who was dying that I would try 
 to do." She paused and looked at him with an expression of pain. 
 " Did you ever hear," she went on, " that saying of St. Francis 
 de Sales, ' Blessed are the hearts that bend, for they shall never 
 break ' ? I think mine must surely break for it can not bend." 
 
 " Even in breaking," he said, " there is sometimes hidden a 
 blessing. But I would desire to spare you any blessing which 
 comes in the guise of pain." He, too, paused hesitated an in- 
 stantthen continued, with earnest feeling : " If you will let me, I 
 will take you far from all influences that disturb you far from
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 481 
 
 the shadow of wrong that darkens your life. If you will give me 
 your heart, you need never bestow another thought on the father 
 who has treated you with such cruel injustice." 
 
 She was so much surprised that at first she hardly grasped his 
 meaning. Her eyes dilated as she gazed at him, before she said : 
 
 " I do not understand it is impossible that you can mean " 
 
 "I mean," he said, as she stopped, "that I love you, and that 
 it will be the happiness of my life if you can care for me in return. 
 I mean that I shall find a new value for my name and rank if you 
 will take them and forget those of which you have been de- 
 frauded." 
 
 He spoke with tender ardor in a voice that few women could 
 have heard unmoved. And Irene was not one of the few. She 
 was deeply moved although she sat silent and motionless for a 
 minute. But silence may be the most significant token of emo- 
 tion, and suddenly a shower of crystal drops fell from her eyes to 
 her black dress. 
 
 " Irene ! " cried the Marquis, making a movement to take her 
 hand. 
 
 But she drew back; though, when she lifted her eyes, they 
 were shining with light through the moisture that still suffused 
 them. 
 
 "Do you know," she said, gently, "what it is when you hear 
 of a great deed or a noble thought, to feel your heart stir and 
 your eyes fill with tears? So I have felt in listening to you in 
 realizing that you are indeed offering your old name and high 
 rank to me who have neither ! " 
 
 " But you will take them ? " he said, eagerly. " Tell me that ! " 
 
 " I can not tell you that," she answered ; " because it is impos- 
 sible that I can take them. I should feel that I had done you a 
 wrong and an injustice if I did; for the time might come when 
 you would ask yourself whether such a sacrifice had been well 
 made." 
 
 " There is no sacrifice involved," he said ; " and, if there were, 
 do you think that a man who has reached my age, and sounded 
 the depths of all that the world offers, does not know what is 
 best worth securing and retaining ? You have made life a new 
 thing to me since I have known yon. I was like one who had
 
 482 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 wandered far into an arid desert, to whom a radiant messenger 
 came and led him again to the region of morning freshness, of 
 hope and enthusiasm. Faith I had not lost ; but it had grown to be 
 with me a matter of the head rather than of the heart. I believed 
 in God and his Church, because I could not stultify my intellect 
 with the impious and illogical follies of unbelief. But devotion, 
 which is the better part of faith, was something which I had for- 
 gotten until you showed it to me again. You have wakened my 
 heart out of a lethargy so deep that I thought it dead, and given 
 back to me the youth I had fancied for ever gone. Surely, then, 
 having done all this, you will not refuse to give me yourself? " 
 
 She had listened to bim eagerly, her eyes still shining with the 
 moisture of quick-rising tears ; but, at the last words, she shook 
 her head. 
 
 " I think," she said, " that I would have courage to refuse, 
 even if I loved you. Yet I thank you none the less for holding 
 me worthy of such homage. I am not. But that does not matter. 
 You believe me to be so ; and you prove your own worth in every 
 word that you utter. For it seems to me that in nothing more 
 than in their mode of loving do men show what they are. You 
 are most noble, and worthy I have always felt it of all that is 
 highest and best. That includes the love of a woman. But I 
 have no love for you." 
 
 " None ! " he asked, in a tone of deep pain. 
 
 "None," she answered. "I have no heart, save that which is 
 torn with bitterness and conflicting passion. If I married you 
 if it were possible that I could do so I should never cease to 
 remember that I had taken the shadow of my wrong to one whoso 
 name should shine in men's eyes undimmed by any shadow. There 
 is a brilliant future before you I am sure of it and you must 
 have no weight on your career. Say that the day of brightness, 
 the fulfillment of hope, came to France. How could you present 
 to your king one whom her father had disowned and that father 
 the life-long enemy of France ? No, M. le Marquis I repeat, that 
 even if I loved you, I would have courage to refuse to marry you/' 
 
 He thought that he could never forget her face as she looked 
 at him, speaking these words the mingled fire and sweetness that 
 was in her glance. He felt as if he could almost see the clear
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 483 
 
 shining of the generous soul, and the strong foundation on which 
 her resolution rested. 
 
 " If you loved me," he said, after a moment, " if there were 
 any hope that you would ever love me, I would prove to you that 
 all this amounts to nothing. Instead of casting any shadow on 
 my career, you would aid it in the fullest degree. With you to 
 inspire my purpose, and keep alive the high-heartedness which is 
 essential for greatness in any true sense, I might do much. But, 
 without you " 
 
 " Without me," she said, as he paused, " you will do as much 
 as you could do with me. For you wrong yourself in thinking 
 that what you will achieve depends on any inspiration save that 
 which is within yourself. The heart, fit for great achievements, 
 is in your own breast ; and the mind that is made to grasp the 
 highest thought needs no help from one who is only fitted to 
 receive it. If I have indeed had any share in waking you from 
 the lethargy which follows the vain pursuit of pleasure, I am more 
 than glad I am deeply grateful ; but there my influence ends. 
 And I think you overrate it there. It is Rome, with her thousand 
 voices of glory and faith, and all that lies beyond a mere ignoble 
 life for self, which has waked you once and for ever." 
 
 " But you have been the living voice of these things," he said. 
 " They have indeed touched me ; but it has been through your 
 words and your eyes." 
 
 "You may think so now," she said; " but you are mistaken. 
 On the contrary, you have taught me to see much that I might 
 else have left unseen, to feel much that I might else have left un- 
 felt. And of all those who will watch your name in the coming 
 time, there will be none whose interest will be deeper than hers 
 to whom you would have given it." 
 
 " To whom I can not resign the hope of giving it," he said. 
 "Do you not see that you were born to fill a high position? You 
 have every mark of an exalted destiny ; you are fitted to adorn 
 the most exalted rank. You have no right to doom yourself to 
 obscurity, because of an injustice which even the author of it is 
 anxious to repair." 
 
 " But from him I will take no reparation," she said, proudly. 
 
 " Believe that I would never ask you to take more than the
 
 484 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 acknowledgment of the absolute purity of your birth. That is 
 your right. It is no favor from Prince Waldegrave." 
 
 " It is a right which he can give or withhold at his pleasure," 
 she said, " and therefore I will have none of it. Do you think 
 that if any legal remedy had lain in my hands, if I could have 
 forced him by any means whatever to repair the injustice, that I 
 would not have done so ? But I will not take even justice from 
 him as a gift." 
 
 What could the Marquis reply ? It was now his turn to come 
 in contact with the unbending will against which every one else 
 had made vain trial of strength. But, wiser than most of those 
 who had preceded him, he felt instinctively that words were use- 
 less. So, for a time, silence fell. As the sun sank toward the 
 west, all the city at their feet was flooded with light, and more 
 than one gleaming cross appeared to flash in the level rays. On 
 this high rocky terrace they were as if hung in mid-air, with an 
 exquisite stillness all around them, and an atmosphere of heroic 
 memories, as distinct as the perfume of the blossoms of the bay- 
 trees over their heads. 
 
 It was Irne who at length broke the spell. "I shall alv.-ays 
 be glad," she said, in her clear, sweet voice, " to remember the 
 hours that we have spent together among these scenes. And in 
 the memory there will be nothing that I could wish to change 
 I mean, in my memory of you. It is not often that, when we 
 paint a character to ourselves in noble lines, it keeps those lines 
 unmarred by any closeness of association. Yours has done so. 
 I thought yon all that a high-born Frenchman should be and 
 could words say more ? when I knew you first. I have found 
 you so at all times and in all things, and never more so than to- 
 day when you have offered your brilliant rank and stainless 
 name to one who would be proud to wear them if fate had been 
 kinder to her, and if she could have given you her heart in return." 
 
 At the first sound of her voice he had turned quickly toward 
 her, and during her speech his dark, deep eyes were reading her 
 face as if intent to pierce through any mask to the soul below. 
 But there was no mask. The eyes which met his were clear and 
 candid as the sky above, and he read in them no shadow of hope. 
 TV hen she finished he could only say :
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 485 
 
 " And this is all ? Will you not even take time for thought 
 for consideration ? " 
 
 " Why should I? " she asked. " I could never give any other 
 answer than 1 have given now. To prolong the matter would 
 only be to deceive you, and cause us both useless pain." 
 
 " I will do nothing, urge nothing, that could cause yon that," 
 he said. " My most earnest desire has been to relieve you of all 
 pain, and my deepest regret is that you will not suffer me to do 
 so." He paused, and looked away toward the majestic dome 
 which seems ever more of heaven than of earth, and which was 
 now relieved against a sky of still and splendid gold. " I feel," 
 he said, u like one who is standing on the threshold of a new life 
 a life that I must enter alone. I have dreamed of a companion- 
 ship so high and tender that it would sweeten any path of diffi- 
 culty ; but I shall, instead, have only a memory to carry with 
 me. It is, however, a memory as white and fragrant as the flower 
 you wear in your girdle. Will you give me that ? " He held out 
 his hand. " It will speak to me at once of sweetness and of glory 
 the sweetness that is denied to me, and the glory that may be 
 won by all who can forget self in noble effort." 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 PKINCE WALDEGRAVE had gone to many decisive interviews 
 v.-ith great ministers, to many important cabinet councils, with 
 fewer misgivings, and less doubt of his own power, than he felt 
 in approaching the interview with his daughter. As he had con- 
 fessed to Otto in their first conversation, he would, under any 
 circumstances, have seen her with reluctance. He was prepared 
 to do so, however, in fulfillment of a painful duty, and to gratify 
 one who had taken the place of a son in his heart. But now that 
 atonement was made heavier to him now that he, accustomed 
 to command, was required to fill the position of a suppliant his 
 reluctance increased many fold ; and when he found himself in 
 Rome he was ready to regret that he had come. It was too late 
 to recede, however, and since he was exceedingly anxious that 
 his presence should not be discovered by many who would attach
 
 486 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 extreme political significance to it, he was also anxious that the 
 interview to which he was committed should be over as soon as 
 possible. The morning after his arrival, therefore, while Walde- 
 grave and himself sat together at breakfast, he said : 
 
 " I wish to leave Rome within twenty-four hours, Otto, and 
 consequently whatever is to be done should be done quickly. 
 Tell me where I am to go, and how to see the person whom I 
 have come to see." 
 
 " It is very easy to tell you where to go," answered Walde- 
 grave. " Mrs. Falconer's apartment is in the Via Gregorian a. 
 But I can not so easily tell you how to see Irene. It was only by 
 stratagem that I was enabled to see her last, and I am sure that 
 it will require stratagem to make her see you. The best thing 
 will be for me to go to Mrs. Falconer and enlist her aid. Noth- 
 ing can be accomplished without it." 
 
 "And I? " asked the Prince. 
 
 "You will follow in half an hour. Luigi will have a carriage 
 in readiness for you." 
 
 Notwithstanding these confident arrangements, it was with 
 many doubts that the young Count presented himself at Mrs. Fal- 
 coner's door, where Antonio informed him that the signora did 
 not receive at this hour. 
 
 "Nevertheless," said Waldegrave, "take my card to her, and 
 say that it is not without good reason that I beg her to make an 
 exception in my favor." 
 
 His tone and manner were effective. He was shown into the 
 richly draped sala, while Antonio vanished with his card. Nor 
 had he long to wait for a response. In a few minutes there was 
 the slight sound of a distant closing door, and down the long vista 
 of rooms Mrs. Falconer's graceful figure came. She received him, 
 as he hastened to meet her, with a cordial smile. 
 
 " You will pardon me, I hope, for intruding at this hour when 
 you learn why I have ventured to do so," he said. 
 
 "There is no need of pardon," she answered, kindly. " I can 
 imagine why you have come. You wish me to aid you in seeing 
 Ir&ne is it not so ? " 
 
 "I wish to ask your aid in that manner," he replied, "but not 
 for myself. It is Prince Waldegrave now who wishes to see her."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 437 
 
 " Indeed ! " Although prepared for this, Mrs. Falconer could 
 not repress a slight indication of astonishment. "So he has 
 come ! " she said. 
 
 "He has come to see his daughter and induce her to accept 
 what she refused when offered through me," Waldegrave an- 
 swered. 
 
 " What she refused when offered through you, she is not likely 
 to accept from the father who is the object of her bitterest feel- 
 ing," said Mrs. Falconer, gravely. " Are you not aware of that ? " 
 
 "I am aware," ho replied, "that the issue of the attempt is 
 doubtful ; but failure means nothing worse than the result of inac- 
 tion. "When that is the case, failure must be risked. And my 
 uncle is prepared to risk it rather than leave any means untried 
 to induce her to accept what is atonement from him, but justice 
 for herself." 
 
 " Yon put it well," said Mrs. Falconer touched, as Stanhope 
 had been, by the young man's face and voice " but Irene is reso- 
 lutely determined not to accept even justice from Prince Walde- 
 grave." 
 
 "I know it," he answered; "but I trust that her resolution 
 will melt when she is brought, face to face with her father. When 
 she sees what he is willing to do how far he is willing to go in 
 the effort to repair wrong, the generosity of her nature must as- 
 sert itself, and she must feel that to accept atonement is often as 
 great a duty as to make it.' 1 
 
 Mrs. Falconer shook her head. She remembered some words 
 of Irene's on that subject. 
 
 " I am sorry to discourage you," she said, " but I must prepare 
 you for disappointment by assuring you that you entirely under- 
 rate the force of resentment which is arrayed against you." 
 
 " There are also some forces that will fight on our side," he 
 said. " You must be aware of that." 
 
 "Yes," she answered, "but those forces are for the time in 
 abeyance dominated by the keen sense of injury. However, 
 I will say no more ; and I only hope that the result may prove me 
 mistaken. One thing, at least, is certain since Prince Walde- 
 grave is here, there must be no obstacle to his seeing his daugh- 
 ter."
 
 488 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Do you think it possible that she will consent to see him ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. The interview, so far as she is concerned, 
 can only be effected by stratagem." 
 
 " I feared as much, and for that reason I have come to beg 
 your assistance without which we can do nothing." 
 
 " I am afraid that Irene will never forgive me if I betray her 
 again," said Mrs. Falconer, " but that can not be helped. This 
 is one of the supreme opportunities of h'fe. Indeed, there are not 
 many lives to which such an opportunity comes one so fraught 
 with important consequences." She paused a moment, then add- 
 ed, with a smile : " You will let me offer my best wishes for your 
 cause, M. le Comte. I think you deserve to win all that you 
 desire. Frankly speaking, I have not always been on your side. 
 I would have preferred to see Irene accept the Marquis de Clia- 
 teaumesnil but she has rejected him." 
 
 Waldegrave started. Something like an electric shock of joy 
 ran through him. He had hardly owned to himself how much 
 he had feared M. de Chateaumesnil as a rival. 
 
 " He has left Rome," Mrs. Falconer went on ; " gone to Frohs- 
 dorf, to see the king and console himself with loyalty for the fail- 
 ure of love. I confess that I was so disappointed I was absolutely 
 angry with Irene. But she declares her intention nevej 1 to marry 
 and if any man is destined to make her forswear snch a resolu- 
 tion, you must be that man." 
 
 " I have not much hope of it," he said. " Her resolutions, as 
 we are aware, rest on firm grounds. And, indeed, for the pres- 
 ent, I have put thought of myself aside. I desire only that she 
 shall accept her rightful place in the world and, even more, that 
 she shall rise above the bitterness that is so unworthy of her." 
 
 "Ah, you can not put yourself in her place. You do not 
 know how deeply the iron has entered into her soul how pas- 
 sionate love for her mother takes the form of passionate partisan- 
 ship for that mother's wrong." 
 
 " I think that I realize it all," he said, gravely. " It is because 
 I realize it that I am so anxious for atonement to be made. That 
 brings me back to my uncle. He will be here very soon. May I 
 ask how you intend that Irene shall be brought to see him? " 
 
 " It can only be in one way I shall send for her to coine to
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 489 
 
 me, and she will find Prince Waldegrave. It will be a shock to 
 her ; but no preparation is possible, because she would, undoubt- 
 edly, refuse to see him." 
 
 " There must be no risk of her doing that," said Waldegrave. 
 " She must see him. All my hope is centered now on the effect 
 of his personal influence." 
 
 " I wish it were centered upon something more likely to suc- 
 ceed," said Mrs. Falconer; "but, at least, the trial shall be made 
 conclusively." 
 
 "I ask no more," said Waldegrave. And then, as the door- 
 bell sounded, he added, " There he is." 
 
 A few minutes later a servant came to Irene with a message 
 from Mrs. Falconer, desiring her presence. It chanced that there 
 had been some arrangements discussed between them for musical 
 practice ; and, supposing that this was what the summons meant, 
 Irene made no inquiry, but at once obeyed. Of late she had 
 neglected her voice ; but she felt this morning the stirring of har- 
 mony, as if it would be a pleasure to pour out her soul on the 
 wings of song. She took up some sheets of music, therefore, and 
 walked quickly down the suite of apartments to the grande sola. 
 It was not until she stood in the door-way of this, that she became 
 aware that Mrs. Falconer was not alone, that a man of noble and 
 distinguished appearance was with her. 
 
 Did some instinct tell the girl at once who this was? Cer- 
 tainly she paused, and would have retreated more quickly than 
 she came, if Mrs. Falconer had not turned, advanced, and, taking 
 her hand, led her forward. 
 
 u Here is one, my dear, who wishes to see you ; and who has 
 a right to do so," she said. And then, with a whispered "For- 
 give me ! " she passed swiftly from the room. 
 
 Irene made no effort to follow. Indeed, the thought of escape 
 did not present itself to her mind. She only felt an intuitive con- 
 viction that the man who was to her the embodiment of evil, the 
 father whom she had never been conscious of seeing, was now 
 before her. There was repulsion, yet there was also fascination 
 in the thought. She stood motionless where Mrs. Falconer had 
 left her, her head thrown back a little, her hands, as they hung 
 before her, clasping tightly the roll of music, and her proud, clear
 
 490 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 glance meeting, without a shadow of wavering, the piercing gaze 
 which was fastened on her. 
 
 And what did Prince Waldegrave feel in seeing himself thus 
 confronted ? But for those haughty, limpid eyes, he might almost 
 have fancied himself once more in the presence of the wife he had 
 renounced. Yet he was also conscious in every fiber that this 
 _girl was his daughter ; he saw the signs of lineage ; he recognized 
 his own spirit in the dauntless glance, that never faltered ; and, 
 realizing this, he realized also, for the first time, what his life had 
 lost. For here, instead of reverence, was defiance; instead of 
 affection, hatred ; instead of the sweet tie of parent and child, 
 injured and injurer standing face to face. 
 
 It seemed to both of them that they stood so for a long time 
 before a word was spoken. Then Prince Waldegrave extended 
 his hand, saying : 
 
 u My daughter do you know who I am?" 
 
 His voice broke the spell that had held Irene motionless. She 
 drew back a step, as if fearing that he might touch her. 
 
 "There is no one in the world now who has the right to 
 call me that," she said, in a low, concentrated tone. "I presume 
 that you are Prince Waldegrave. But I am unable to imagine why 
 you are here." 
 
 A wall of ice could not have been a more sensible barrier than 
 that which these words created ; and if Waldegrave had not suf- 
 fi oiently impressed his uncle with the difficulty of the undertaking 
 before him, he would have been impressed with it now. There 
 was another pause before he answered gravely, and as if weigh- 
 ing his utterances : 
 
 "I am here in the fulfillment of what I feel to be a duty to 
 offer, in my own person, what you have refused when offered 
 through another ; to give, if you will accept it, a father's care and 
 affection ; to restore to you a birthright, which has been too long 
 withheld. I wish to do all that lies in my power to atone for the 
 past, if you, on your part, will forget it." 
 
 " Forget itl " the girl repeated, in the same concentrated tone, 
 as of one who maintains calmness by a supreme effort. " Has it 
 occurred to you to think what that would mean? I should have 
 to cut out of my life, as if it had never been, all that antedates
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 491 
 
 this moment. I must efface all memory of my mother, whoso 
 long martyrdom for my sake I now comprehend, and whose grave 
 lies freshly behind me. I must make myself over into a new per- 
 son, and not keep even a recollection of the Irene Lescar who felt 
 that she would be the most ignoble creature on earth if she could 
 take for herself the justice which was denied which is still denied 
 one whose wrong was deeper, whose suffering keener, than her 
 own. That is what f orgetfulness of the past would mean for me. 
 Judge, therefore, whether or not I am likely to forget it." 
 
 There was fire in her glance as it met his own now, and, look- 
 ing at her as she stood before him, her slight figure updrawn like 
 that of a young queen, he understood the fascination which had 
 made Otto say that she was unlike all other women. Her strik- 
 ing beauty had never before been more apparent than at that mo- 
 ment, and, recognizing that here was a daughter worthy of him 
 a wife worthy of the nephew he loved after a short silence, ho 
 spoke again : 
 
 " I was wrong to use that expression. To forget is, indeed, 
 not in our power. But there is another thing which M in our 
 power, and which is worthy of the highest natures that is, to 
 forgive. I have never said l Forgive me ' to a human being before, 
 but in you I see not only yourself but your mother and it is to 
 her as well as to you that I speak when I say : ' You have been 
 wronged. Suffer me to atone for it,' " 
 
 The deep, melodious voice that had so often swayed men like 
 reeds, took its deepest, its most melodious tone in the last words ; 
 and, had not Irene's heart been mailed against him, she could 
 hardly have resisted the spell which lies in the rare unbending of 
 a stern nature. That this man, with his great power and greater 
 fame, should come to her as a suppliant should humble his pride 
 sufficiently to say to a girl, and that girl his own daughter, " For- 
 give me " would have touched those chords within her which 
 were always ready to respond to whatever was generous or he- 
 roic. But there was no response in her soul to anything that 
 Prince Waldegrave might say or do. The marble head, which, in 
 milky whiteness, looked forth from a corner near them, had as 
 much sign of softening on its features as her face showed. 
 
 "I could hardly have thought," she said, "that you would
 
 492 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 mention my mother's name to me ; but, since you have seen fit to 
 do so, since you have addressed her in my person, let me answer 
 for her as well as for myself, and tell you that it is no more in 
 your power to atone for the past than it is in that of a murderer 
 to call hack the soul to the body of one whom he has slain. You 
 have slain love and trust and respect and the dead do not rise 
 again. To me you are of all beings upon this earth most abhorrent, 
 for if you had killed her whom you took from her home and her 
 country, whom you swore to love and protect, it would have been 
 tenderest mercy compared with what you did. You broke her 
 heart, you crushed her pride, you took from her rank and name 
 and fortune you made it necessary that she should blazon her 
 cruel wrongs to the world in the effort to obtain bread for me. 
 And now that she is dead and her claim can no longer conflict 
 with that of one whom you put in her place, you come to offer 
 me atonement, and ask me to forgive ! Understand this : I would 
 die of want before I would accept the least thing from your hand, 
 and though my mother, who was an angel, did forgive you, I 
 never will!" 
 
 Passion was shaking her before she concluded this speech, in 
 which the deepest feeling of her nature, on the subject which 
 touched it most nearly, found expression. It was a moment when 
 the pent-up forces of years rushed to the outlet of speech, and she 
 could no more control the fiery words that rushed to her lips, 
 than it is possible to stem a tide of lava. Well as he had been 
 prepared, Prince Waldegrave was intensely startled. It seemed 
 an accusing angel that stood before him, with pale face and shin- 
 ing eyes, and read the terrible indictment, which was like thunder 
 in his ears. Nothing is more serviceable for us than to perceive 
 occasionally how those acts appear to others which we have 
 glossed over to ourselves. The scorpion-whip of conscience had 
 not been wholly unfelt by Prince Waldegrave, but never before 
 had such a mirror been held up to him as in those words of Irene. 
 
 " And is this," he asked at length, in a low tone, " the spirit 
 which your mother taught you ? " 
 
 " No," the girl answered, haughtily. " It is the spirit born of 
 my love for her and my detestation of you her destroyer. Only 
 twice did she ever mention your name to me, or even allude to
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 493 
 
 yonr existence once, when, as I approached womanhood, she 
 told me her story and mine, to explain why we had neither home 
 nor rank nor place in the world ; and again when she was dy- 
 ing, when, holding out the crucifix to me, with her last breath she 
 implored me to forgive. There was nothing else which she could 
 have asked that I would not have done I would have followed 
 her into the very shadow of death, if she had bidden me do so 
 but I could tear my heart out of my breast sooner than from that 
 heart forgive you ! " 
 
 "Then," said the Prince, with something of haughtiness in his 
 own tone, " we will say no more of forgiveness. There remains 
 justice. Think what you will, feel what you will, about me. 
 But do not fall into a blind folly of hate. Take the birthright of 
 your name and rank, and reward the love of one whose chief anx- 
 iety is for you not himself. It may be that you do not under- 
 stand what is offered you in Otto's love," he went on in a soft- 
 ened tone, after a brief pause. "I have known many men, but 
 never one who is more noble in all things." 
 
 "He may be I believe that he is noble and good," said 
 Irene. " But what then ? As I have told him, it would be easier 
 for fire and water to blend than for me to unite my life with his. 
 And even if I loved him and if there did not lie between us an 
 impassable gulf of wrong how could I trust him ? My mother 
 trusted you.' 1 ' 1 
 
 The last words were uttered in a tone of bitterness and scorn 
 altogether indescribable. And meeting the full glow of the brill- 
 iant dilated eyes, above which the dark, straight brows were 
 drawn together like a bar, Prince Waldegrave felt that further 
 appeal was useless that he had come on a vain errand. Yet, 
 moved more deeply than he would beforehand have imagined pos- 
 sible, and realizing the depth of suffering by the measure of resent- 
 ment, he was constrained to make one more appeal. 
 
 "Perhaps you will not believe me," he said, gravely, "but it 
 is nevertheless true that if, at this moment, I could undo all the 
 past, I would make any sacrifice for that end. But it is out of 
 my power. Even my will to atone is not strong enough to call 
 back the dead, to unfasten the links that are forged around my 
 life. But I have come here to-day to do all that lies in my power
 
 494 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 to acknowledge the wrong, to offer the fullness of reparation. 
 If God has promised pardon to one who does this, how can you 
 dare to refuse it?" 
 
 " Go and ask it of God," she answered, in a stifled voice, " but 
 do not come to me. It is easy to talk of reparation to the dead, 
 since it has become impossible. But what was denied to her I 
 will never take. You threw us out of your life together and 
 what is done is done. My part is with her. I would rather share 
 her grave than your palace. This is my last word." 
 
 She turned away as she finished speaking. The next instant 
 he found himself alone. 
 
 From the closed carriage which was standing at the foot of the 
 stairs, Waldegrave emerged as he saw his uncle descending toward 
 him. When they met, the Prince paused, and answered his eager 
 look of interrogation : 
 
 " I have failed. She will take nothing hear of nothing. My 
 advice to you is to think of her no more. At least, never mention 
 her name again to me." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AFTER Mrs. Falconer heard of Prince "VTaldegrave's departure, 
 she waited for some time in nervous anxiety, thinking that Irene 
 might come to reproach her, and longing to know the result of the 
 interview ; but as the minutes passed by, and Irene did not appear, 
 Bhe finally felt suspense to be unbearable, and went to the door of 
 the girl's room. 
 
 To her knock no answer was returned. Again she knocked, 
 bot still without receiving a reply ; and then, seriously alarmed, 
 she unclosed the door. The first object on which her eye fell was 
 the form of Irene, who was lying upon the couch where she had 
 found her once before. But not now in mere exhaustion from 
 emotion; rather, prone under one of those storms of the spirit 
 which seem as if they would rend soul and body asunder. Her 
 face was buried hi the cushions, but her frame was shaking with 
 the passion of long-drawn convulsive sobs.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 495 
 
 Hurrying across the floor, Mrs. Falconer knelt down by the 
 couch. " Irene," she said, gently " Irene ! " Then, as no answer 
 came, save the passionate sobs : " My dear, what is the matter ? 
 What has grieved you so ? " 
 
 Still she had to wait some time before, without lifting her face 
 Irene said, in half-choked accents : 
 
 " Why is such a burden laid upon me ? What have I done that 
 I should have to straggle like this and fail ! and fail ! O my 
 mother, can you see, do you know, that when the supreme moment 
 came, I refused what you asked of me? I said that I would try 
 and God sent the trial and when it came, I failed ! " 
 
 " You refused to forgive your father 1 " asked Mrs. Falconer, in 
 a whisper. 
 
 " Yes." She suddenly lifted herself and a flash of fire came 
 into the tear-deluged eyes. " I could sooner have died. Every- 
 thing came back to me everything. All the outrage, the cruel 
 wrong, the base injustice. I saw all my mother's ruined, martyred 
 life I felt as if her murderer stood before me and I told him 
 what I thought, what I felt. It is over. The moment of trial 
 came and I failed." 
 
 "But," said Mrs. Falconer altogether uncertain what this 
 passion of apparent regret might mean" if you feel differently 
 now if you think that you could answer differently it is easy to 
 convey your answer to Prince Waldegrave." 
 
 " Feel differently answer differently ! " the girl repeated. " I 
 should feel the same, I should answer the same, if it were to do 
 over again. I think if I were dying and he stood before me, I 
 should with my last breath tell him that I would never forgive 
 him ! " 
 
 " Irne ! my dear child for Heaven's sake think what you 
 are saying ! " 
 
 " I do think I feel all that you feel I know that it is hor- 
 rible. But what can I do ? I have struggled and prayed I have 
 begged God to give me strength to overcome this passion of 
 hatred and sometimes for a little while when I am in church, 
 for instance, there is a lull in the conflict, it is as if a vision of the 
 nothingness of time and the greatness of eternity came over me, 
 and forgiveness grew in a measure possible. I think then of my
 
 496 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 mother's sufferings as so many occasions of merit that will add to 
 her happiness for all eternity. But when I come out into the 
 world the battle is renewed, the sense of deep resentment takes 
 possession of me again. And when I stood face to face with the 
 man who had sacrificed her to his ambition, who had been worse, 
 a thousand times worse, than her murderer, I forgot everything 
 save the detestation and scorn which filled my soul. I should 
 have liked to spurn him with my foot. I did spurn his offers with 
 every word which indignation could suggest. And I should 
 do it again. But when I left him when I came here, panting 
 and breathless with excitement then in the stillness I seemed to 
 hear my mother's voice, as clearly and distinctly as I hear yours 
 that dying voice which will never cease to echo through my 
 soul and it said, ' Your promise where is your promise ? ' O 
 mamma, mamma ! " with another passionate burst of sobs she 
 held out her arms to the calm picture that looked down on her 
 " why did you ask of me what I can never give ? Why did you 
 make your memory like a stern angel to me ? O my dearest, my 
 best-beloved, anything else on earth I would do, but what you 
 might have forgiven for yourself, I can never, never forgive for 
 you!" 
 
 What could Mrs. Falconer say? It seemed to her that the 
 only thing to do was to quiet the excited girl as far as possible. 
 But that proved difficult ; and after the storm finally subsided the 
 prostration which followed was so great that, when Stanhope 
 came in that afternoon, Mrs. Falconer told him that she almost 
 feared illness as the result. 
 
 " There must be no more interviews with Prince Waldegrave 
 or his nephew," she said, decidedly. " I have given the last as- 
 sistance that I mean to give in bringing about any meeting of the 
 kind. Henceforth they must let Irene alone." 
 
 " From what Count Waldegrave tells me, there is no question 
 but that she will be let alone hereafter by her father," said Stan- 
 hope. " He has requested that her name shall never be men- 
 tioned to him again." 
 
 "I do not wonder. She must have let him hear the truth for 
 once. And Count Waldegrave does he also mean to put her out 
 of his life and his thoughts ? "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 497 
 
 " On the contrary, he declares distinctly that he does not mean 
 to do so. ' As long as we both live,' he said, ' I will never relax 
 my efforts to induce her to accept what is her right.' " 
 
 " Which, in his opinion, probably includes accepting himself, 
 also," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 " Probably," answered Stanhope; "but we must not expect 
 too high a flight of disinterestedness. I think that he means to 
 be entirely unselfish, that he does not build at all on any hope of 
 her changing toward himself. But such a hope may exist without 
 his recognizing it. The human heart is, above all things, deceit- 
 ful. It is astonishing bow often we find that we have been 
 cherishing a hope or an expectation without knowing it, until 
 some sharp disappointment tears away the veil and shows what 
 we have been building upon." 
 
 " You only say ' we,' after the manner of writers, without 
 really meaning to make the remark personal to yourself; is it not 
 so?" she asked. "I can not imagine that you ever entertain 
 hopes or expectations without fully recognizing them." 
 
 " "Why not ? " he asked, with a smile. " Why should I be 
 exempt from any of the folly or weakness to which human nature 
 in general, and my sex in particular, are liable ? " 
 
 " I did not mean to imply that you would be exempt from 
 anything of the kind, but that, if it existed, you would recognize 
 it," she answered, quietly. " You, who are so fond of reading 
 the characters and motives of others, would hardly be in doubt 
 as to your own." 
 
 " How keen, though gentle, your sarcasm is ! " he said. 
 
 " You mistake," she replied, quickly. "I did not mean to be 
 sarcastic at all. I meant in all seriousness just what I said that 
 one so used to analyzing motives would not be readily deceived 
 about his own." 
 
 "As readily as about those of others," he said; "and you 
 know how readily that is. I might not have thought so a few 
 months ago I was then quite as besotted in my opinion of my 
 own judgment as you imagine me to be now ; but I have had 
 several shocks of revelation lately. One of them you know. I 
 judged you presumptuously, and insisted that my presumptuous 
 opinion was correct. Then I discovered that I did not know
 
 498 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 myself as well as I imagined that the deceitfulness of the heart, 
 of which I spoke a moment ago. had blinded me Eh, lien!" 
 he broke off, suddenly. "I am wandering far from the topic 
 of onr conversation the topic of most of our conversations 
 Ir&ne." 
 
 " She has certainly been the topic of many of them," said 
 Mrs. Falconer ; " but scarcely, I think, of most. " However, 
 what I have yet to say of her is simply this if she is able to 
 travel in a day or two, I mean to take her away from Rome." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Not far at first. Only to Albano, or some other place in 
 the hills, to recover the health and spirits which I am sure will be 
 much shaken by to-day. People of her sensitive organization 
 always fail terribly under the strain of mental emotion. She 
 seems to me the sort of person to die of a great shock or a pas- 
 sionate struggle. If you could see her now she is sleeping 
 under the influence of an anodyne you would see how much the 
 excitement, the highly wrought emotion of to-day, has told upon 
 her. But, fortunately, such people rally as quickly as they fail ; 
 and I hope that a quiet week at Albano where she will not see 
 or hear of any one from Eome will render her able to enjoy 
 that visit to Cori and Ninfa of which Lionel and herself have 
 talked so much. Then, when we return to Rome, it will be time 
 to make one's plans for the summer." 
 
 " And are you not beginning yet to tire of this charge upon 
 your life ? " he asked, struck by the kindness and thoughtfulness 
 of her arrangements. 
 
 " Have I anything else to do with my life ? " she asked. " Is 
 it likely that I would tire of a charge which gives me an unselfish 
 interest ? That is a miserable life which is limited to itself in 
 care and thought. For selfishness defeats its own end. Instead 
 of excluding pain by excluding care for others, the selfish life 
 only centers all care upon itself, and so, when pain touches it, has 
 no other refuge. It is a great thing, therefore, to throw one's 
 self into other lives. And I owe you thanks for bringing Irene 
 into mine." 
 
 " I think it was your own kind heart that brought her into 
 it," he said. "Or, perhaps, her mother's prayers. However
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 499 
 
 that may be, let me ask if, in banishing yourself to Albano for a 
 week, you mean to exclude every one from Rome ? " 
 
 " I do not mean to exclude you, if you care to come," she 
 answered. " You can bring no painful association to Irene. But 
 do not tell Count Waldegrave where she is. I scarcely suppose 
 him to be a sufficiently ardent lover to follow her; but there 
 must be no risk of anything of the kind." 
 
 Stanhope readily promised that Count "Waldegrave should 
 learn nothing from him. "I agree with you," he said, "that 
 she has had enough of excitement for the present, and that it can 
 serve no good end. If she is ever to be victorious in the struggle 
 with herself the struggle in which the forces of good and evil 
 seem typified by her parents it can only be by removing her 
 from all influences that rouse intense feeling." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer proved to be right in saying that the strain of 
 emotion which Irene had undergone would tell on her like the 
 effect of severe illness. For more than twenty-four hours she 
 was completely prostrated, and it was not until the third day 
 after Prince Waldegrave's visit that she emerged from her cham- 
 ber, looking the ghost of herself, or like the girl who with pale 
 cheeks and violet- shadowed eyes had stood by her mother's grave 
 in Paris. 
 
 She exhibited, if not pleasure, at least unmistakable satisfac- 
 tion, in hearing of the Albano plan ; and Mrs. Falconer made no 
 delay in carrying it out. Erne, who eagerly volunteered his serv- 
 ices, was sent to secure suitable apartments. And when he re- 
 turned, assuring his cousin that he had found what he thought 
 would suit her, she first thanked him, then said, with a smile : 
 
 "But Lionello mio, I have something else to add which may 
 seem to you very ungrateful, and it is this : do not come to Albano 
 while we are there. I want Irene to have perfect quiet from all 
 disturbing influences ; and a young gentleman who looks love, even 
 when he does not make it, is a disturbing influence." 
 
 "You are mistaken," said the young gentleman in question, a 
 little sadly. " / should be no disturbing influence I have not 
 power enough for that, even and if I 'look love,' it is very un- 
 consciously ; for I have not a shadow of hope. But if I am not to 
 come to Albano, how about our excursion to Norba and Ninfa? "
 
 500 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " Oh, I will write you when we are ready for that, and yon 
 can come and join ns. You know you have to decide all about 
 the route, where we are to go when we leave Albano." 
 
 " We will go to Velletri. That was the headquarters of Mr. 
 Neville and myself; and the place is so charming that I advise 
 you to spend a day or two there." 
 
 " Very well. All that can be arranged at the time. Mean- 
 while, possess your soul in patience, and wait in Borne for my 
 summons." 
 
 Erne felt that he could do this with a very good grace, having 
 such a prospect ahead ; and he bade them good-by quite cheer- 
 fully, when the three ladies, attended only by their servants, left 
 Eome next morning. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IT was a period of much-needed rest to Irene, that quiet week 
 at Albano. The repose of the great hills, the soothing freshness 
 of the airs that blew over them, the magical beauty of sunsets, 
 when heaven seemed opening to the gaze, and the world was like 
 a beautiful dream-land far below, the blossoming richness of chest- 
 nut-woods in spring, the lovely lanes fringed with cyclamen, vio- 
 lets, and forget-me-nots, leading to glorious old ilex-groves all 
 were full of a charm which was like balm to her spirit. 
 
 They were days which Mrs. Falconer enjoyed also. The free- 
 dom from all social demands, the delight of perfectly sympathetic 
 companionship, and the hours spent in the open air among the 
 most lovely scenes, made the time pass like enchantment. They 
 went to Arricia through its picturesque glen, and dreamed like 
 the " improvisatore " that the lofty dome of its church was "that 
 of St. Peter's, which the angels had hung up in the blue air among 
 the dark olive-trees." They followed the flower-carpeted paths 
 that lead to the Convent of the Cappucini, with its noble ilex- 
 groves and views of surpassing beauty. They stood by the lakes 
 of Alba and Nemi ; they wandered over the site of Alba Longa, 
 the mother-city of Rome ; loitered through the beautiful grounds 
 of the villas Barberini and Doria, and as evening came they saw, 
 over the Campagna, sunsets in which the clouds were " like the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 501 
 
 curtains of God's tabernacle," and the wide earth was transfused 
 and steeped in glory. 
 
 There were quiet hours, also, which Irene spent in kneeling 
 before the altars of the old churches, where the grave, majestic 
 frescoes looked down, and the sanctuary lamp burned, like the 
 divine patience of God amid all the changes and unfaithfulness of 
 men. Here a voice seemed to speak to her of the peace that 
 might at last crown struggle, and the silent figure on the crucifix 
 preached as no mortal tongue could do of the divine nature of 
 that forgiveness so hard for human hearts to practice. What 
 knowledge of her own heart she gained in these silent hours it is 
 difficult to tell. But something of it was written on her face, in 
 the deep expression of her eyes. When Stanhope came he was 
 struck by this, and at the first opportunity spoke of it to Mrs. 
 Falconer. 
 
 "She looks like one who has gained some new perception," 
 he said. " It may be painful there are signs of struggle in every 
 line of her countenance but it is also new." 
 
 " It can hardly be, I think," said Mrs. Falconer, " unless she 
 has brought herself to the point of forgiving her father. I am 
 sure that her heart knows little rest on that score." 
 
 " Has she spoken of him since she has been here ? " 
 
 " Never. It is a subject we entirely avoid. I would not on 
 any account rouse again such a passionate storm of feeling as I 
 witnessed in Home." 
 
 "I have always thought forgetfulness was best," said Stan- 
 hope. 
 
 Then silence fell for a moment. They were slowly walking 
 through the Galleria di Sotto that magnificent avenue lined by 
 ilex-trees centuries old, with their massive, leaning trunks, their 
 wide-spreading branches, and their canopy of almost impenetra- 
 ble shade. Presently, Stanhope said : 
 
 " I have not told you that I saw Count Waldegrave the otlier 
 day in Kome. He came to ask me where you were gone." 
 
 " You did not tell him ? " 
 
 " No. I told him that I had been requested not to divulge 
 your place of retreat. He said that he wished to see Irene. To 
 that I replied that she would be again in Kome, and that he could
 
 502 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 then, if he liked, endeavor to see her ; but that he need not ex- 
 pect further assistance from you, since you were of the opinion 
 that she should be troubled no more by influences that had a most 
 unhappy effect upon her." 
 
 " That is exactly what I should have wished yon to say. I 
 hope that he will heed it." 
 
 "I doubt that. His will, I think, is as strong as her own. 
 And when an irresistible body meets an impenetrable body, we 
 may, at least, expect collision." 
 
 "He must let her alone," said Mrs. Falconer, decidedly. "I 
 will not consent that he shall keep the struggle alive, and make the 
 poor child tear herself to pieces in the effort to attain a height 
 which is for the present, at least beyond her strength." 
 
 Stanhope was silent again for a moment. Then he said : " I 
 have something else to tell you. The story is just now the talk 
 of Rome." 
 
 " What ! " said Mrs. Falconer, pausing abruptly. " Irene's 
 story ? " 
 
 " Yes Irene's and Count "Waldegrave's. You may fancy what 
 a delightful morsel it was for the gossips and how they have 
 made of it a more than Eomeo and Juliet affair. Lady Dorches- 
 ter stopped me on the Pincio yesterday afternoon to tell me what 
 she had heard. The current version, it seems, runs thus : Count 
 "Waldegrave lost his heart, and became entangled before he knew 
 who Ir&ne was. Prince Waldegrave heard of the affair, and came 
 post-haste from Nice to interfere. There was a furious scene 
 particulars not stated and it ended by your carrying the heroine 
 off the scene." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer looked for a moment as if she hardly knew 
 whether to laugh or cry astonishment, anger, and amusement 
 were so mingled in her face. Then she drew a deep breath, and 
 walked on. 
 
 " Well," she said, " it is as accurate as most of the gossiping 
 stories that one hears an excellent example, indeed, of how ac- 
 curate they mostly are. But how could it have started ? Who 
 had the grain of truth necessary for the foundation of this edifice 
 of untruth ? " 
 
 " Can you not imagine ? "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 503 
 
 " I have not an idea." 
 
 Stanhope shrugged his shoulders. " I knew at once," he said. 
 He drew a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to her. "Do 
 you recognize this ? " he asked. 
 
 She took and opened it. It was a copy of the " Tittle- Tattle," 
 containing the article on Madame Lescar ; and on the margin of 
 the paper was written, " Count Waldegrave will furnish the se- 
 quel." Mrs. Falconer looked up with an expressioa in which in- 
 dignation struggled with disgust. 
 
 " Can it possibly be Violet Dysart ? " she asked. 
 
 " It can not possibly be any one else," Stanhope answered. 
 " That was brought to me by Count Waldegrave. It was sent to 
 his uncle," who found it on his return to Nice." 
 
 " But why ? What end could she have had ? " 
 
 " The desire pure and simple to make mischief is enough of an 
 end to some people. It is not worth while to trouble one's self 
 with endeavoring to find what other she may have had. The 
 stories which have been set afloat in Rome are worse than this 
 achievement. They, of course, emanate from the same source." 
 
 "And did you feel at liberty to tell Lady Dorchester the 
 truth?" 
 
 " Yes, for Count Waldegrave had said to me, ' I bring you this 
 because the person who sent it may be capable of worse things 
 of circulating false and injurious reports. Do not hesitate, if you 
 hear anything of the kind, to tell the whole truth.' I therefore 
 told the whole truth to Lady Dorchester, and laid on her no ill- 
 junction of secrecy." 
 
 " How did she receive it ? " 
 
 " With intense interest, as you may imagine ; protested that 
 she had always been sure that Irene was a remarkable person, and 
 that she must be even more remarkable than she had imagined if 
 she could resist such a paladin as Count Waldegrave." 
 
 "I am inclined to be of the same opinion," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 smiling. "But I have no clew whatever to her feeling toward 
 him. She never mentions his name. As for these stories, do you 
 think that I ought to return to Rome on account of them ? " 
 
 "Not an hour earlier than you intended why should you? 
 You might as well attempt to bridle the wind as to restrain the
 
 504: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 tongues of gossips. And Irene will be so much an object of at- 
 tention when she returns to Rome that I do not think you would 
 like to remain there." 
 
 " It is not my intention to remain longer than to make my 
 arrangements for leaving definitely." 
 
 " And where, if I may ask, do you mean to go ? " 
 
 " To Paris for a few weeks until summer fairly sets in." 
 
 " Et apres ? " 
 
 "That is a harder question to answer than you imagine. 
 "When there is nothing to take one anywhere in particular, it is 
 difficult to decide upon a special place. After all, it is a good 
 thing not to have too extended a field for choice." 
 
 " It is a misfortune from which few of the world's inhabitants 
 suffer," he said, smiling. " And for myself, I should never com- 
 plain of it. I like to know that my field of choice is only lim- 
 ited by the limits of the globe." 
 
 "And where, in that very wide field, do you think of going 
 next ? " 
 
 " Oh, I was so much pleased with the Norse lauds last sum- 
 mer that I shall probably go back to them. I wish I could tempt 
 you to think of Norway. I should like you to see what I saw last 
 year the magnificent spectacle of the midnight sun." 
 
 " I should like to see it ; but I do not think I can go to Nor- 
 way for the purpose." 
 
 " You would not fear the journey ? " 
 
 "Not at all." She paused, and he was not certain whether a 
 gleam of sunset-fire falling through the ilex-boughs reddened her 
 cheek, or whether she flushed as she added, " I am tolerably inde- 
 pendent of the opinion of the world, as you kuow ; but I can bo 
 so only because I never violate its proprieties." 
 
 "And what possible canon of propriety would you violate in 
 going to Norway ? " he asked, in surprise. 
 
 "None certainly in going to Norway," she answered. 
 
 " Oh ! " It was his turn to pause for a moment before adding, 
 " Would the impropriety, then, be in my presence ? But I thought 
 that even Mrs. Grundy had by this time recognized my harmless- 
 ness." 
 
 " You forget," said Mrs. Falconer, with a slight shade of cold-
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 505 
 
 ness in her voice, " that every one has not had the advantage of 
 hearing your statement of your own position, nor can be aware of 
 the opinions you entertain with regard to me. I am speaking, 
 therefore, of things as they appear in the eyes of the world." 
 
 "And is it possible," he said, in a low tone, " that even in the 
 eyes of the world I could be credited with presumption enough to 
 approach you as anything but a friend ? " 
 
 Her hands were full of wild-flowers which she was arranging 
 a little nervously as she replied in a tone as low as his own : " The 
 world is mercenary who knows it better than I ? yet even this 
 mercenary world does not recognize in wealth the insurmountable 
 barrier that you do. For what, after all, is your opinion but this 
 that I, Sydney Falconer, am of less importance than the money 
 which came to me by an accident of inheritance ? You wish to 
 exalt, and, in fact, you degrade me. I am to forget the better 
 part of my womanhood I am to sell myself for high rank and 
 why ? Because J count for nothing, but the wealth that hangs 
 round my neck, for much ! " 
 
 He had seen before the flash of indignation that was in her 
 eyes as she turned them on him and there could be no question 
 now of sunset-light reddening her cheeks. It was the eloquent 
 blood which rushed to them, and retreated again, leaving her pale. 
 
 Stanhope felt his own blood like fire in his veins; but he 
 endeavored to retain control of himself, and after a moment man- 
 aged to say, calmly : 
 
 "We have been over this ground before; you have before 
 charged me with undervaluing you, because, presumptuously 
 enough, I thought that you ought to make a great marriage. I 
 tried to show you then that it was because I rated you not your 
 wealth so high that I thought nothing worthy of you but the 
 most brilliant position. If you doubt me, I wish that you could 
 read my heart. You would find how far above every one else in 
 the world you stand there. You would see that I speak simplest 
 truth when I say that I would rather be your friend than the 
 accepted lover of any other woman. Why am I here to-day? Is 
 it not because I feel that I am only half alive when I am absent 
 from you? But" he stopped and checked himself sharply 
 "this is worse than madness! You are wrong in saying that the 
 22
 
 506 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 world does not hold such wealth as yours an insurmountable bar- 
 rier between you and a man who has no counterbalancing advan- 
 tage to offer. The world does hold it so rightly. And if the 
 world did not, I should. The barrier is there and so great that 
 I can never even attempt to surmount it." 
 
 They walked on silently. Mrs. Falconer was pale now to her 
 lips. She felt that it was a supreme moment, that they might 
 never be so near an understanding again, and that it was for her 
 to make an heroic effort. She seemed still to be arranging her 
 flowers, but presently she paused. 
 
 " If there is such a barrier," she said, " and you will not attempt 
 to surmount it, I must be braver than you and hold out my 
 hand across it." 
 
 As she spoke, she extended her hand. 
 
 Stanhope seized it, and held it for a moment in a grasp which 
 almost crushed it, before he said, hoarsely : 
 
 "Do you know what you are doing? do you know that you 
 are offering to throw away your life with all its brilliant possibili- 
 ties ; and that you are tempting me to take advantage of your 
 generosity, and forfeit my own respect? " 
 
 "I would certainly not wish to do the last," she said, touched 
 by the passion of his tone, and lifting to his face her eyes, blue as 
 the flowers she held, "but if you care for me -all rests on that " 
 
 " You know that I do ! " he exclaimed, in a tone which was 
 more than many protestations. 
 
 " Then I hold your scruples to be worth nothing. What I 
 you, who denounce the worship of money, are ready to attach 
 to it a value as great as that which could be placed upon it by its 
 most ardent worshiper? You say that it is of sufficient impor- 
 tance to stand between two people, who might else find happi- 
 ness together ? "Well " she attempted to draw back her hand 
 "that is, of course, for you to decide. The money is, unfor- 
 tunately, attached to me, and I can not throw it away. But, let 
 me tell you that what you consider a question of self-respect is 
 simply a question of pride." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right," he said, in a low tone. "I have 
 always felt that, in marriage, I would desire to give not to 
 take." J
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 507 
 
 " And would you not give ? " she asked. " Ah, how blind 
 how blind you are ! "What is all the wealth in the world com- 
 pared to what you could give ! Love, hi which I. once so bitterly 
 disappointed, might trust undoubtingly aim and interest for a 
 life which now lacks both, or tries to make them out of indiffer- 
 ent things, the rest and security that come from a heart at peace 
 But why do I talk? It is not my place to plead. Go, if you 
 will. I shall only have learned again of what stuff a man's love 
 is made." 
 
 The ring of her voice was as proud as pathetic and with the 
 last words she strove again to withdraw her hand from the clasp 
 that held it fast. But the barriers were broken down between 
 them now, and, with the sentences she had just uttered ringing 
 in his ears, there was nothing which was not more possible to 
 Stanhope than to let that hand go. Fortunately the Galleria di 
 Sotto was just now free from any presence save their own. He 
 bent his head and kissed it passionately, as he said : 
 
 " Let me show you, indeed, what stuff a man's love is made 
 of! I will put my pride where my heart has long been at your 
 feet." 
 
 " And do you expect me to be surprised ? " asked Irene. 
 "Did I not tell you that Mr. Stanhope was in love with you? 
 But I did not know I only suspected that you cared for him. 
 And I did not see at all how the difficulty of your having so 
 much money was to be got over." 
 
 "I did not see myself," said Mrs. Falconer. "In fact, I did 
 not think that it ever would be got over, for by intuition I knew 
 his feeling about it, and I never would have believed myself ca- 
 pable of taking a step to encourage a hesitating wooer. Yet that 
 is what I did. His heart was open before me only his pride 
 stood between us what could I do, then, but surrender mine? 
 If there had been a shade of doubt, it would have been a perilous 
 and indefensible experiment. But I had no doubt. All was 
 clear : it was like a flash of light. I saw that everything hung 
 on me." 
 
 "And you have proved yourself as generous in love as in 
 everything else," said Irene. " But then, you are like a queen
 
 508 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 made to do things that other women must not imitate. And Mr. 
 Stanhope will give you the devotion you deserve, and the sym- 
 pathy which is more than devotion. For I can imagine it quite 
 possible to grow tired of the devotion of an unsympathetic per- 
 son." 
 
 " If friendship is the best foundation for love, we have that," 
 said Mrs. Falconer. " And do you know that but for you this 
 would never have come to pass ? " 
 
 " But for me? " repeated the girl, in surprise. " What had I 
 to do with it? I should like to believe it like to feel myself any 
 kind of link between those who have been such friends to me 
 but I do not see how it can be." 
 
 " Yet it is very plain, and in more ways than one. But for 
 you, we should never have been thrown together so closely and 
 intimately ; but for you, Mr. Stanhope would not have been in 
 Rome this winter ; and but for you, I should probably at this mo- 
 ment be engaged to marry the Marquis de Chateaumesnil.' 1 ' 
 
 "Is it possible! " said Irene, after considering the matter for 
 a moment with thoughtful eyes. " Then I have not lived in vain. 
 How often I have wished that I could do something for both of 
 you and now it seems that, unconsciously to myself, I have done 
 something! It shows how little we can know what is for the 
 best. I thought it so hard that M. de Chateaumesnil should care 
 for me that I, who liked him so much, should have to inflict pain 
 on him ; for I would rather suffer pain myself than be forced to 
 inflict it on another. Yet, if it has brought about your happiness 
 and that of Mr. Stanhope, I can be resigned to it." 
 
 " It would be unreasonable, however, to expect the Marquis 
 to be resigned," said Mrs. Falconer, smiling. " Ah, if you could 
 have married him, all would have ended well like a fairy-tale." 
 . But Irene shook her head. "It was impossible," she said. 
 "Do not talk of it. Talk of yourself. Tell me all about how 
 happy you hope to be. And I, on my part, shall beg God with 
 all my heart to make your hopes realities. And I think that He 
 will. For surely this is a reward for the kindness you have both 
 given to one who, but for that kindness, would have been friend- 
 less and alone in the world."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 509 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT was with a light heart that Erne received his cousin's sum- 
 mons. "Come," she wrote, "and we will go to Velletri, as you 
 proposed. The weather is perfect, and Irene is looking forward 
 to the excursion with eagerness." 
 
 Irene's eagerness found an echo as Erne read these words ; 
 and with a step as light as his heart he was walking down the 
 Corso half an hour later. Why he felt so much elated would 
 have puzzled himself to tell, further than that he would for a few 
 days be with Irene among the most beautiful scenes. He knew 
 that he had nothing beyond this to look forward to ; yet this was 
 a pleasure beyond which he would not look. " She does not care 
 she never will care in the least for me," he thought ; " but 
 that does not hinder my feeling for her as Dante did for Beatrice. 
 She will be my inspiration more than if I could win her. I real- 
 ized that from the first. No doubt if there was any hope of her 
 listening to me I should repeat the folly of which I have already 
 been guilty ; but there is no hope, and I am resigned. I can not 
 imagine her as the wife of one man. She was made to be the 
 star of many hearts." 
 
 Like most imaginative people, Erne found real comfort in 
 his own imaginations, and it was naturally easier for him to 
 assign to Irene a lofty stellar destiny than to fancy her bestowing 
 on some other man what she had denied to him. " Some other 
 man " be he abstract or particular is always the object of a 
 lover's keenest detestation ; and it pleased Erne to believe that 
 this obnoxious person would not fare better than himself. 
 
 It was at this point of his thoughts that, looking up, he found 
 himself suddenly face to face with Count "Waldegrave, who was 
 emerging from the Via Condotti, as he was about to turn into it. 
 There was an exchange of salutations after which Waldegrave, 
 pausing for an instant, said : 
 
 " If you will permit me, I will walk with you for a short dis- 
 tance," and turned around. 
 
 Erne, although much surprised, assented courteously, and so 
 for a moment they walked on together in silence. Then Walde- 
 grave said :
 
 510 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 " I have just been to call on Mr. Stanhope, and I find that he 
 has left Rome. In consequence, I have entirely lost sight of Mrs. 
 Falconer, and Miss Lescar. Yet I am very anxious to see the 
 latter. Am I asking you to violate confidence in telling me where 
 she is ? " 
 
 Now, if Erne hesitated a moment, it was not because he felt 
 that he would be violating confidence in answering the question 
 for Mrs. Falconer, never dreaming of any encounter on his part 
 with Count Waldegrave, had not exacted a promise from nor made 
 a request of secrecy to him but because a quick sense of jealousy 
 rose in his breast. If this man had received the same inflexible 
 " No " that had been his own answer from Irene, why was he not 
 resigned to abide by it as he (Erne) was ? Why did he wish to go 
 and trouble her with vain pleading? Or, if he desired to address 
 her again on the subject of her father's offer, he ought to know 
 that such appeal was useless. These thoughts passed rapidly 
 through his mind before he answered : 
 
 " I should not violate any confidence in telling you where she 
 is ; but I must doubt whether your seeing her again would be ad- 
 visable." 
 
 It was on the point of Waldegrave's tongue to say, haughtily, 
 " You will allow me to judge of that " ; but he restrained the im- 
 pulse, conscious that it was in Erne's power to give or withhold 
 the information he desired. ' What he said was : 
 
 " It is not without a good reason that I desire to see her ; and 
 a reason which concerns myself in a very small degree. In every 
 way she would be happier if she could be induced to forgive the 
 past and take from her father's hand her proper place in the 
 world. Any one who is her friend must wish her to do this." 
 
 " I am not sure on that point," said Erne. " I am her friend 
 and I do not wish it." 
 
 "Then," said the other, quietly, "you do not wish to see the 
 triumph of the noblest part of her nature over the less noble. 
 I do and I have not resigned the hope of securing such a 
 triumph." 
 
 " You would do well to resign it," said Erne. " You do not 
 know her if you fancy that you will ever induce her to forget the 
 past sufficiently to entertain any association with her father."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 511 
 
 " You only echo what every one else has said," answered 
 Waldegrave ; " hut I have hope of better things. And it is a 
 hope which I shall not resign. Therefore I ask again if you will 
 tell me where she is?" 
 
 " I am not aware of any reason why I should not tell you," 
 said Erne, after a slight pause. " She is with Mrs. Falconer at 
 Albano. But I have just received a letter from my cousin 
 desiring me to join them, in order that they may go to Vel- 
 letri." 
 
 " And you go ? " 
 
 " To-day, by the evening train. We shall probably leave Al- 
 bano to-morrow." 
 
 "It is impossible for me to leave Rome to-day, or to-morrow 
 either," said Waldegrave, reflectively. " But, after that, you will 
 be established at Velletri ? " 
 
 " In a manner. We propose to make it our headquarters for 
 a series of excursions among the Volscian Hills. This being the 
 case, it is very doubtful whether you would find Miss Lescar if 
 you went there and I advise you to wait until her return to 
 Rome, to make any effort to see her." . 
 
 Waldegrave smiled a smile which indicated little intention 
 of following the advice thus volunteered then, with a few 
 words of thanks, turned away, as they entered the Piazza di 
 Spagna. 
 
 Erne looked after him uneasily. Now that it was too late, he 
 was sorry for having given the information asked of him. The 
 thought that Waldegrave might appear at any time to disturb and 
 agitate Irene threw a shadow in advance over the enjoyment he 
 had so eagerly pictured to himself. " Confound him ! " the young 
 fellow muttered. " Why can he not let her alone, and why did I 
 not refuse to tell him where she is? " 
 
 Regrets being useless, however, his sanguine spirit soon reas- 
 serted itself, and he hoped that Waldegrave's own good sense 
 would show him the folly of a journey to Velletri, with no cer- 
 tainty of finding Irene, when by waiting patiently he could see 
 her in Rome. He forgot, what Waldegrave remembered, that the 
 difficulty of seeing her in Rome, now that Mrs. Falconer had de- 
 clined to assist him again, was much greater than it would proba-
 
 512 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 \>\j be in a place where lie might contrive to take her hy sur- 
 prise. 
 
 It was the latter consideration which, three or four days later, 
 moved him to do what his heart prompted go to Velletri. It is 
 a short journey from Koine to this old Volscian town, once he- 
 sieged hy Coriolanus. Little more than an hour over the Naples 
 Railway places the modern traveler within its gates. But when 
 Waldegrave drove to the principal hotel he found that those 
 whom he came to seek were gone. The landlord himself came 
 forward to answer his inquiries. " They went to Cori yesterday, 
 signor, and will not return until to-morrow if then. One of the 
 signori talked of going on to Segni he with the sketch-book, who 
 has been here before. It is possible that they may do so." 
 
 " Then I will follow them to Cori," said the signor. " Order 
 me a carriage at once." 
 
 The carriage was ordered, and half an hour later he drove out 
 of Velletri, along the green bowery lanes which environ the town 
 on all sides, and which are particularly charming at this season, 
 when the flowers that line them fill the air with their fragrance. 
 Everywhere rioted the sweet, wild honeysuckle, which the people 
 lovingly call fiori della Madonna, because it blooms in the mouth 
 of May ; bands of peasants were at work in the hill-side vineyards 
 that produce the famous wine of Velletri ; and now and then, be- 
 tween the gnarled stems of olive-trees, were enchanting glimpses 
 over the blue masses of farther and nearer mountains. But when 
 at length the road began to ascend the steep height 
 
 " Whence Cora's sentinels o'erlook 
 The never-ending fen" 
 
 the view widened, and with every onward step grew more beau- 
 tiful. "The never-ending fen" in other words, that land where 
 death lies hid under flowers, known as the Pontine Marshes, and 
 of which the name gives a most erroneous idea spread afar to 
 the glittering sea, where the magical Cape of Circe stretched out 
 in full view, while near it lay the soft purple islands of San Felice, 
 Ponza, and Pandataria, where some of the worst cruelties of the 
 Eoman emperors were perpetrated. 
 
 But Waldegrave was for once thinking as little as the most
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 513 
 
 shallow tourist of the loveliness which surrounded him, or the 
 historical and poetical associations which rose up on every side. 
 He had been to Oori before ; he knew its streets, like staircases, 
 too steep for anything but foot-passengers and mules, its ancient 
 walls, its beautiful temples ; and when he heard that the party of 
 which he was in search had started early to Norba, he only de- 
 layed long enough to engage a mule and a guide, and set out to 
 follow them. 
 
 Even in his absorbed mood, however, the glorious scenery into 
 which he plunged on leaving the gates of Cori on the Norba side, 
 began to tell. After crossing the picturesque bridge which, built 
 of great masses of tufa, spans a deep ravine, he found himself 
 following a road that wound along the side of the mountain, with 
 precipices above and below, and a boundless view over the gleam- 
 ing outspread world. As he advanced, the scenery grew more 
 wild a few goats browsing among the rocks were the only living 
 creatures visible and he could have fancied himself journeying 
 through some deserted prehistoric region. Presently Norma 
 came in sight, crowning its tremendous precipice of rock with 
 rugged, towering heights all around it ; and then the ancient cita- 
 del of Norba, which has been a ruin since the time of Sylla, yet 
 the Cyclopean walls of which are absolutely untouched by decay. 
 Perched like an eagle's nest upon an almost inaccessible height, it 
 is a spot where silence reigns, and has reigned, through all the cen- 
 turies since its garrison, finding themselves betrayed into the 
 hands of Lepidus, put themselves and all the inhabitants to the 
 sword. Some memory of that tragedy fit hearts they must have 
 been to hold this citadel of giants seems to linger in the sunshine 
 which broods over the inclosure within those massive stones. 
 And from this elevation what a panorama is spread before the 
 gaze ! The Pontine Marshes lie below, their forests and flowery 
 plains set with lakes that gleam in the sunlight like jewels. 
 
 The line of the Appian Way can be distinctly traced as it 
 passes across the marshes ; and Cisterna the Three Taverns of St. 
 Paul glitters in the sunshine. There are the town and lake of 
 Fogliano, buried in a thick green wood a magical, haunted-look- 
 ing spot while near the shore, with dark woods stretching 
 around it also, is the celebrated castle of Astura. Lake after lake
 
 514 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the eye discerns shining like molten gold in a setting of richest 
 emerald, and forests extending to the sea, the level sapphire ex- 
 panse of which fades afar into that misty sky-line where, from 
 the sentinel watch-towers, the dreaded sails of the Saracens 
 were so often to be seen, bringing terror and dismay. 
 
 Here, again, Waldegrave found that those of whom he was in 
 search had eluded him. The citadel was silent and deserted. But 
 the guide was at no loss. He advanced to the edge of the preci- 
 pice, and pointed downward, saying, " They are there." 
 
 Waldegrave's glance followed his pointing hand, and he saw 
 the spot which had so fascinated Irene's imagination, and which 
 has been admirably described by one * who also looked upon it 
 from this height : 
 
 "Immediately beneath us is a ring of green ivy walls, encir- 
 cling many wonderful mounds which all seem formed of flowers 
 and ivy. Gray towers rise out of this, ruins all overhung with 
 green, and in the midst of the strange circle we may see a silver 
 spring gushing forth and glowing through the Pontine Marshes, 
 and ending in a sparkling lake far away by the sea-shore. We ask 
 in astonishment what this curious garlanded circle is, with its 
 many green hillocks, and we are told that it is Einfa Ninfa, the 
 Pompeii of the middle ages." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "!T is even more strangely beautiful than I had imagined," 
 said Irene. " Indeed, it would be quite impossible for one to con- 
 ceive anything so like enchantment." 
 
 It was to Erne she spoke. They had succeeded in making 
 their way into the barricaded city, for the flower-sprites which 
 inhabit it are not without defenses, and its gates are barred by 
 the long tendrils of the ivy which has covered every foot of the 
 walls with thickest verdure. Having entered, it was as if they 
 had stormed and carried the capital of Fairy -land. An indescrib- 
 able sensation filled them as they wandered along grassy streets 
 
 * Gregorovius.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 515 
 
 mosaicked with flowers, between houses out of whose windows 
 roses, honeysuckle, and jasmine looked, where noble mediaeval 
 palaces stood half-buried in green, and the only sound was the 
 sighing of the wind among the leaves, or the voice of the swiftly 
 rushing Nymphseus. Irene thought of the charming and fantas- 
 tic yet most accurate description which she had read with Erne 
 the night before: "All the streets are filled with flowers, which 
 seem to march in procession to the ruined churches. They climb 
 on every tower, they lie laughing and smiling in all the desolate 
 windows, they barricade every door, for within the houses reside 
 elves, fairies, water-nymphs, and a thousand charming spirits of 
 the fable-world. Yellow marigolds, mallows, sweet narcissus, 
 gray-bearded thistles who once dwelt here as monks, white lilies 
 who were nuns in their life-time, wild roses, laurestinus, masticks, 
 tall ferns, wreaths of clematis and bramble ; the red fox-glove 
 which look like enchanted Saracens; the fantastic caper-plant 
 growing in the clefts of the buildings, the sweet wall-flower, the 
 myrtle, and the fragrant mint ; brilliant yellow broom and dark 
 ivy, which creeps over all the ruins and falls over the walls like 
 green cascades one may fling one's self into this sea of flowers, 
 quite intoxicated by the perfume, and the most charming fairy 
 power enchains the soul." All this wealth of color lay around 
 them, and the beautiful architecture of the middle ages lent itself 
 to the picturesque decay in a manner impossible to describe. For 
 ''how can one depict in words a shattered bell-tower, with round 
 windows, or windows divided by small pillars, with its frieze 
 formed of sharply pointed tiles, and with its romantic decorations 
 of ivy and flowers waving in the wind? or how picture the ruins 
 of the arched niches, or the nave of the church all overhung with 
 tapestries of flowers ? The churches are old they belong to the 
 eleventh or twelfth century, if they are not of a still earlier date, 
 for they are built in the simple basilica style. In their deserted 
 space the flowers worship now, and the censers are swung by 
 roses. From the walls, or perhaps from an ivy -hung tribune, some 
 old fresco-paintings still look down. They represent early Chris- 
 tians with palms in their hands, and instruments of martyrdom 
 by their side. With faded nimbi on their pale foreheads, in 
 golden dalmatica, with stole upon their shoulders, they look from
 
 516 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 behind their veil of flowers, and seem shocked by the heathen 
 rites which the children of Flora are daring to celebrate in these 
 deserted churches." 
 
 But Irene shook her head when Erne quoted this, as they 
 stood in one of the churches. " I do not think they are here to 
 celebrate any heathen rites," she said. " I think they are here to 
 praise and worship God, instead of those who come no longer. 
 What fancy is it that we must turn away from Christianity and 
 go back to paganism if we want poetical ideas? I do not think 
 the gentle saints are ' shocked.' I think they are quite willing 
 that flowers should come, since people can worship here no more. 
 It seems fitting that their fragrance should fill the consecrated 
 walls where the incense of prayer no longer rises." 
 
 " One can not get rid of the idea that they must be conscious," 
 said Mrs. Falconer. "It is such a strange, enchanted-looking 
 place ! If the inhabitants were not, by some spell of magic, con- 
 verted into flowers, what became of them? " 
 
 " It is a mystery," said Erne. " There is not even a tradition 
 to tell the story of the desertion of the place." 
 
 " A stranger mystery to me," said Stanhope, " is how it could 
 ever have been inhabited. It must always have been the home 
 of fever." 
 
 " What is its history ? " asked Mrs. Falconer. " Surely it has 
 a history." 
 
 " It is very obscure," answered Stanhope. " The Frangipani 
 that race of glorious name * possessed it in the twelfth cen- 
 tury. In the thirteenth it passed to the Gaetani, whose descend- 
 ants still hold it. But it must always have been flowery, since a 
 church was dedicated here in 1216 to Santa Maria del Mirteto 
 that is, ' of the Myrtle-grove.' " 
 
 " So the flowers have a right to come in," said Irene, smiling. 
 "They were in a manner invited by that dedication." 
 
 " In ancient times," said Erne, " a temple of the Nymphs 
 stood by the lake, and it is evident that the name of the stream 
 was derived from it probably the name of the town also." 
 
 * The name signifies " bread-breakers," and is derived from their im- 
 mense charity in a time of famine.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 517 
 
 " I thought you told me that the name of the town was de- 
 rived from that of a maiden called ' la bella Ninfa,' " said Irene. 
 
 " That is what the people of Norma say a maiden who flung 
 herself from the tall tower that stands by the pool at the entrance 
 of the town, to escape marrying the sposa her parents had chosen 
 for her.' 1 
 
 "Then I do not think she is as creditable a sponsor as the 
 nymphs," said Mrs. Falconer, " and I prefer to believe that the 
 name comes from them." 
 
 " She must have been very miserable," said Irene. 
 
 Presently, when they were in the silent, flower-filled streets 
 again, she said : " Let us go to the castle. I should like to mount 
 to the top of the tower, if possible." 
 
 " I hope you are not thinking of imitating the example of ' la 
 bella Ninfa,' " said Erne, smiling. 
 
 " I can not imagine any degree of unhappiness which could 
 make that possible to me," she answered. 
 
 No one objecting, they turned their steps in the direction of 
 the castle, which stands at the entrance of the town, and was the 
 seat of its barons. The square medieval tower rises high above 
 its walls, and, with the mass of ivy-hung ruins, is beautifully re- 
 flected in the still waters of a pool, fringed with flowers and 
 surrounded by tall reeds, that lies immediately below it. 
 
 After forcing an entrance into the castle which the ivy barred, 
 as if fearing an invasion of Saracens from the coast, or warlike 
 barons from the neighboring heights, they found it not difficult 
 to mount the tower, for steps built of stone, in the glorious mid- 
 dle-age fashion, do not crumble or decay. It would be impossible 
 to imagine a more wild or beautiful scene than that which re- 
 warded them. The pool below was, in its absolute stillness, like 
 a part of the enchanted world of death which surrounded it. 
 "White lilies were open on its breast, but no ripple crossed the 
 still surface of the water. Like a mirror, reflecting the massive 
 castle with its banners of ivy and the tall, solitary tower, it lay. 
 A sense of something strange and unearthly seemed to brood 
 over the spot : it was easy to fancy departed souls being ferried 
 across the death-bearing expanse, where the only sound was of 
 the wind among the reeds, or the sobbing cry of the water-hen
 
 518 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 which came at intervals from the neighboring marsh. On the 
 other side of the castle the fairy ring of Ninfa lay in green beauty 
 and magical silence. Above rose the noble height on which 
 Norba stands, with its citadel 
 
 " Piled by the hands of giants 
 In godlike days of old," 
 
 while, looking over the luxuriant expanse of the Pontine Marshes, 
 they could trace the sparkling, foaming Nymphteus, and see the 
 Circean mount glittering in the evening light. 
 
 " It is certainly a marvelous place," said Stanhope, breaking 
 a long silence. " One might believe that Virgil or Dante had 
 seen it, it is so like the mythic regions of their wonderful shadow- 
 worlds." 
 
 " Is it not ? " said Irene. " I never felt like a disembodied 
 spirit before, but I feel like one now. It seems to me that I have 
 left the world behind, and that I am here waiting for Charon, 
 who, with his boat, will presently push out from the shore 
 yonder." 
 
 "I confess that I have no such feeling," said Mrs. Falconer; 
 " but there is something of awe in the thought that death lies 
 hidden under all this beauty that it would be at the peril of our 
 lives if we staid here after the sun sank." 
 
 " We must not wait for the sun to sink," said Stanhope. 
 " We must be well away before then. Indeed " he glanced at 
 his watch " we have not very much longer to remain." 
 
 u Then let us go down," said Mrs. Falconer. " We have not 
 half explored the town. Come, Irene." 
 
 But Irene did not heed the summons. Leaning her arms on 
 the ivy-hung battlements, she was looking up at the blue, entranc- 
 ing mountains and over the flowery lake ; and, since she did not 
 move, Erne, of course, lingered with her after Mrs. Falconer and 
 Stanhope were gone. They were silent for some time, until at 
 length she said, abruptly : 
 
 " Why are most people so afraid of death ? There is nothing 
 terrible in it, unless we make the terror for ourselves. To me it 
 is attractive like a vision of peace and beauty." Then, after 
 another pause: "If it were not wrong, do you know what I
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 519 
 
 should do ? I would stay here and see the moon rise. Then, 
 indeed, we should behold an enchanted city." 
 
 " I wish that it were possible," said Erne, " but it is not." 
 
 " What should we see, do you think ? " she went on. " Would 
 the Will-o'-the-wisps from the marsh come to storm the town 
 and carry off the flower-spirits? Should we see Charon wafting 
 his pale freight of souls across this water, and would there be 
 among them the grave, ineffably melancholy face of the great 
 Florentine ? Would the churches be lighted up and vespers sung 
 by the flowers? Or would the Duke of Alba come riding down 
 the mountain to demand the surrender of the castle ? We shall 
 never know what takes place when the moon shines over 
 Ninfa." 
 
 "Never," he answered, smiling. "But I think we must go 
 now ; some one is coming for us." 
 
 Some one was certainly mounting the stone stair within a 
 step that rang against them as their mailed lords' might have done 
 in days gone by. Erne listened in surprise. It was undoubtedly 
 not the step of the guide ; it was hardly, he thought, the step of 
 Stanhope. Were there strangers besides themselves in Ninfa? 
 Impelled by curiosity, he walked to the head of the staircase, and 
 there came face to face with Waldegrave. 
 
 Neither spoke for a moment. Then, looking past the young 
 man, who almost unconsciously barred his way to the slender 
 figure leaning over the battlements, Waldegrave said : 
 
 " I saw Mrs. Falconer and Mr. Stanhope below. They told 
 me that I would find Miss Lescar here." 
 
 His tone implied, "I wish to see her alone," and so Erne un- 
 derstood it. But he hesitated. Jealousy on his own account, and 
 irritation on behalf of Irene, prompted him to hold his ground, 
 yet, in common courtesy, it was scarcely possible to do so. Had 
 he not been enjoying Irene's society all day and for several days, 
 and should he now churlishly refuse to leave the field free to 
 Waldegrave for half an hour? The instinct of the gentleman 
 triumphed : he could not do so. Moving aside, he said, " I shall 
 wait for Miss Lescar below," and went down-stairs as Waldegrave 
 walked to Irene's side. 
 
 Thinking it was Erne, she turned as he approached, saying,
 
 520 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Well, are we to go?" then, seeing Waldegrave, drew back 
 with a low exclamation and a paling face. 
 
 He on his part said, quickly : " Do not let me startle you ! I 
 am sorry to have come upon you so unexpectedly, but since I can 
 only see you by accident that is, by turning accident to my own 
 advantage how can I avoid it? " 
 
 " Why should you wish to see me ? " she asked, after an in- 
 stant, in a pained tone. "I told you that I would never will- 
 ingly see you again." 
 
 " And what did I tell you? " he asked in turn. "Did I not 
 tell you that no space should be wide enough to divide us that, 
 if necessary, I would follow you over sea and land until I won 
 from you the triumph of your nobler self ? " 
 
 She did not flash out upon him as she had done once before, 
 and as he half expected now. It was evident that some change 
 had passed over her which, for the present at least, had subdued 
 the fiery spirit. She only looked at him with an expression at 
 once appealing and sorrowful. 
 
 " Then," she said, " do you know to what you condemn me ? 
 It is to a constant, wearing struggle, which in the end will kill 
 me. I am exhausted by it now, and the only peace is when I 
 can for a little while forget. For the last few days, in these fresh 
 and beautiful scenes, I have in a manner somewhat forgotten, 
 and now you come to bring the memory of conflict back. Is it 
 my punishment because for an unworthy motive I consented to 
 know you, and so brought all that has followed upon myself ? Of 
 late I have had many hours in which to reflect, and I have seen, 
 as in a mirror, how all flows from that. I should never have 
 consented to know you. Because I did consent, I am punished. 
 But are you not satisfied with what I have had to suffer already ? 
 Will you not leave me alone? " 
 
 There was a poignant entreaty in her last words that pierced 
 Waldegrave's heart. It was like an echo of the painful struggle 
 of which she spoke of passionate forces which might, indeed, 
 prove too much for the heart in which they battled. 
 
 "You must know," he said, after a moment, in a tone as low 
 and as pained as her own, " that I would not willingly do any- 
 thing the result of which could be to cause you suffering."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 521 
 
 " Then," she said, clasping her hands in the urgency of her 
 speech, " go and do not let ine see you again ! This has grown 
 too much for my strength. I can not bear any more." 
 
 Waldegrave was silent for a moment. What could he say ? 
 Words seemed useless after that appeal an appeal like the cry of 
 a wounded, struggling soul. 
 
 "If you would only believe," he said, at length, "if I could 
 only make you believe, that the best end for the struggle the 
 only true peace would lie in forgiving the past " 
 
 "You only say that," she answered, "because you do not 
 know what deep roots my feeling has. Do not talk of it ! Only 
 be generous only be kind only leave me ! " 
 
 "Do you know what you ask of me? " he said, after another 
 pause. "How can I leave you? Do you forget that I love 
 you passionately, intensely, as I never imagined it possible to 
 love ? Loving you thus, how can I accept your sentence of ban- 
 ishment ? " 
 
 " Because for that reason alone if there were no other it 
 would be necessary," she answered. " What is there but banish- 
 ment for one who loves where love is hopeless ? " 
 
 " And is mine absolutely hopeless ? " he asked. " Can I never 
 hope to triumph over the feeling which holds you from me, as 
 I have already triumphed over the prejudice with which you at 
 first regarded me ? " 
 
 " There is no comparison," she answered. " To put aside prej- 
 udice that was only a matter of justice. But the other that is 
 like the blood of my heart. Do you know the story of this tower 
 how a girl leaped from it once into that still water below, into 
 the very arms of death, to escape a marriage worse than death to 
 her? Well, I could do that sooner than forget the past." 
 
 " Sooner than marry me, do you mean ? " he asked, in a tone 
 of sharp pain. 
 
 There was silence. Irene turned her face away, and looked 
 over the still, gleaming water, over the level, green expanse of the 
 marsh where death lay hid under riotous life. She had not told 
 she had not meant to tell him that. But if he believed it ? 
 
 He did not mean to believe it without clear and definite assur- 
 ance. He felt that this was a moment which could hardly be re-
 
 522 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 peated and that, whatever it cost, he must know the truth. His 
 voice, therefore, took a deeper tone of insistence as he said : 
 
 " If that is what you mean, tell me so ! If my love only in- 
 spires you with aversion, I would wish to know it." 
 
 "Aversion no," she answered, in a low, reluctant voice. 
 " But why do you trouble why do you press me ? Does it mat- 
 ter what degree of like or dislike I feel ? It is all one. A gulf 
 as great as the gulf of death lies between us." 
 
 " I will never acknowledge it never ! " he said. " There is 
 no gulf save what your own feeling makes." 
 
 " And what is feeling but the better part of ourselves ? " she 
 asked, turning her eyes back upon him. U I could sooner far 
 sooner open my veins and let out the blood in them, than tear 
 out of my heart the feeling which would make it impossible for 
 me to think of marrying you even if I loved you." 
 
 Something in her voice, in her eyes, in the faltering accent of 
 the last words, suddenly let a flood of light in upon him a flood 
 that, for a moment, almost stunned him. Then, like a flash of 
 electricity, some words of Stanhope's recurred to his memory: 
 "/ believe that so deeply is the memory and the resentment of her 
 mother's wrong impressed on her nature, that, if you could win her 
 heart, it would only fie to inaugurate a worse struggle with herself 
 than any she has known yet." Had he done this ? "Was that what 
 the passionate entreaty of her tone, the new traces of struggle on 
 her face, meant ? lie was struck dumb by the thought. 
 
 Meanwhile Irene went on clasping her hands above her heart 
 as if she would fain stop its beating and her voice taking a more 
 pathetic tone : 
 
 " Surely I have said enough surely now you will go and make 
 no more attempts to see me ! It can serve no purpose none. 
 Yon only keep alive a conflict that is wearing out my strength. 
 And you mistake if you think that what you urge is even pos- 
 sible to me. It is not. I am not exaggerating I am not saying 
 anything which I do not mean when I tell you that I could 
 sooner leap from this tower than forget or forgive the past." 
 
 " But I had no part in the wrong of that past," he said. " Why, 
 then, should it make a barrier between us ? " 
 
 " Why are the sins of the fathers visited upon the children ?
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 523 
 
 Why does one generation sow and another reap its harvest of evil 
 or good ? You and 1 must reap of evil. I, in any case, but you 
 well, you need not have suffered it, for of the wrong you were, 
 indeed, guiltless, had I not been led away by bitterness to un- 
 worthy desires. 1 am punished believe me, fitly punished for 
 that." 
 
 "The last thing which I could possibly wish is that you should 
 be punished for any pain that I have suffered," he said. "I count 
 it less than nothing, if I may be allowed to make any reparation 
 for the past if I can at last win you to let me efface its conse- 
 quences. Why will you not listen to me? why will you not be- 
 lieve that this is the right, the noble, the generous thing for you 
 to do? Irene, 1 can not go! I am pleading for you more than 
 for myself I am showing you where the true end of struggle lies. 
 My love whom I loved before I knew that one drop of kindred 
 blood was in our veins if there is in your heart a single throb 
 that answers to mine " 
 
 " No, no ! " she cried, like one who starts back from a preci- 
 pice. She retreated from him, and stood near the battlement, as 
 if at bay. " Go," she said. " I have given you my answer. There 
 can never be any other possible between us. Go." 
 
 There was a passion of mingled entreaty and command in the 
 last word, which he understood clearly. He saw that her fear was 
 of herself more than of him. He stood irresolute. How was it 
 possible to refuse to obey such a command ? yet how could he go ? 
 
 The knot of his perplexity was sharply cut. A clear voice 
 behind him said : 
 
 "IrSne! you must come down. The guide declares that we 
 are staying here too late for safety, and that we have barely time 
 to reach Cori if we start immediately." 
 
 It was Mrs. Falconer, who looked very cold and resolute when 
 Waldegrave turned toward her, while Irene hurried down the 
 stair. She waited until the girl was out of hearing then said, in 
 a tone as cold as her look : 
 
 " I told you once, M. le Comte, that you had my best wishes ; 
 but I must tell you now, that, while Irene continues under my 
 care, I can not consent to her being annoyed and pained in this 
 manner. She has a right to say who she will, or will not, see.
 
 524 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 She has distinctly declared that she does not wish to see you. I 
 must beg you, therefore, to make no further effort to force your 
 presence on her." 
 
 The young man bowed. " I acknowledge that you are right 
 to make the request," he said ; " and I recognize that I have 
 accomplished no good in this interview. My only excuse is that 
 my motive has been less selfish than it may appear. But I will 
 not again make an effort to see her without her own or your 
 consent/' 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IT is difficult to say how warmly or how frequently Erne 
 anathematized Waldegrave in the safe depths of his inner con- 
 sciousness, when he saw what a change that half-hour had 
 wrought in Irene. The girl who came down the tower-stair was 
 no more the same girl who had leaned over its battlement, weav- 
 ing her fancies of what might be seen when the moon rose over 
 Ninfa, than a crushed lily is like the same flower in the freshness 
 of newly opened beauty. She was like one who had been crushed 
 by strong emotion, and out of whom, for the time being, all in- 
 terest in things around her had departed. 
 
 Everything was ready for departure ; the mules were standing 
 in the gate-way, and she suffered herself to be mounted, with 
 scarcely a glance at the fairy-like loveliness which a little while 
 before had so enchanted her. Tet Ninfa wore now its most 
 beantiful aspect, as the level sunset flooded it with light, bringing 
 out all the wonderful effects of its ivy walls and flower-decked 
 ruins. But it was a beauty under which the terrible shade of 
 fever lurked ; and, as soon as Mrs. Falconer returned, the guide 
 hurried them away. After they had gone some distance they 
 looked back at the magic city. It was filled with unspeakable 
 richness of color in the evening glow ; the lake was like a sheet 
 of gold, and on the tall tower one solitary figure stood, outlined 
 against the sky, as if watching for the boat which would bear him 
 to the shadow-land of departed souls. It was their last glimpse of 
 Ninfa. They turned around the hills and saw it no more.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 525 
 
 " Really, I hope that Count Waldegrave does not mean to stay 
 there and take fever as a means of committing suicide," said Mrs. 
 Falconer to Stanhope. " I am provoked with him ; but I do not 
 wish him so bad a fate as that." 
 
 "He will not stay there much longer, I dare say," replied 
 Stanhope, who had no great fear of fever. " It is likely that he 
 means to return to Norma to spend the night." 
 
 But Waldegrave meant no such thing ; nor had he any inten- 
 tion of taking fever as a means of suicide. As soon as the little 
 procession had wound out of sight, he descended from the tower, 
 mounted, and slowly followed them toward Cori. 
 
 It was well that he did so; for the first person whom he met 
 as he climbed the steep streets of the town, while the Ave Maria 
 was ringing from the church-towers overhead, was his own con- 
 fidential servant, who had followed him from Eome with a tele- 
 graphic dispatch. 
 
 It was from Nice, and marked " Important." Waldegrave tore 
 it open with a foreboding heart, and read : " Prince Waldegrave 
 has had another seizure, and is very ill. Come at once." 
 
 He was exceedingly weary from his day's travel, but the 
 thought of delay did not occur to him. The servant, who knew 
 everything that would be demanded of him, had learned at what 
 hour the last train that night would pass Velletri. There was 
 barely time to reach it by starting instantly, and Waldegrave 
 merely stopped for much-needed refreshment before flinging him- 
 self into the carriage which brought him to Cori, and promising 
 the driver a liberal reward if he reached Yelletri before the train 
 left. 
 
 The next day Irene seemed so indifferent to continuing their 
 excursions that Mrs. Falconer, after consultation with Stanhope, 
 declared her intention of going back to Rome turning a deaf ear 
 to Erne's proposals with regard to Segni, Alatri, and Ferentino. 
 
 "No doubt they are all very interesting places," she said. 
 "But it is now growing late in the season, and I have many 
 things to do as a preparation for leaving Rome. Do not be un- 
 reasonable! You have shown Irene Norba and Ninfa, as you 
 wished to do."
 
 526 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Yes; and had her pleasure and my own pleasure spoiled by 
 the intrusion of Count Waldegrave," said Erne. "She has been 
 a different creature from the moment he appeared. He has cer- 
 tainly some strong power over her." 
 
 " He has the power of recalling all the bitterness and struggle 
 which darken her life," said Mrs. Falconer ; " and for that reason, 
 more than any other, I wish to return to Kome, in order to take 
 her, as soon as possible, away from such influences." 
 
 " Where do you go when you leave Kome ? " 
 
 " To Paris for a time." 
 
 This was consoling ; for, to a young gentleman who plays at art, 
 what place surpasses Paris in the number and variety of its advan- 
 tages? Erne's face began to lose its elongated aspect. " Well," he 
 said, " that is, no doubt, the best thing you can do ; and Paris is 
 particularly agreeable just now. I shall not be sorry to see the 
 Champs-Ely s6es again." 
 
 As for Irene, when she heard of the intended return to Rome, 
 it was with a sense of relief almost as great as pleasure. The 
 solemn walls, the great, noble churches, the deep-colored streets, 
 were to her like a vision of the native hearth to a homesick wan- 
 derer. There, if anywhere, peace was to be won there, where 
 every memory of history and tradition of faith were like hands 
 stretched out to aid the struggling soul. 
 
 So they returned to Rome, and, on the afternoon of the day 
 following their arrival, while Mrs. Falconer went to Lady Dor- 
 chester, to hear an authoritative account of the reports concern- 
 ing Irene, which Stanhope had mentioned, Irene herself begged 
 Mrs. Vance to go out with her on one of their old expeditions. 
 Taking a carriage, they went to that stately basilica which crowns 
 the Equiline " St. Mary's snowy fane " the beautiful story of 
 the foundation of which is yearly commemorated, on the 5th of 
 August, by showers of white rose-leaves which, during the sol- 
 emn high mass, are continuously floating down from the ceiling 
 "like a leafy mist between priests and worshipers," in memory 
 of the original miraculous fall of snow. There is not in Rome a 
 more beautiful and harmonious building than this ancient and 
 patriarchal basilica. The magnificent nave, with its avenue of 
 marble columns, surmounted by a frieze of mosaic pictures of the
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 527 
 
 fifth century, seems, as one advances, to increase indefinitely in 
 length and majesty. The pavement under foot is of splendid 
 opus-alexandrinum, the crimson and violet hues of which contrast 
 with the white marble of the pillars and the rich gilding of the 
 carved and paneled roof, covered with the first gold brought to 
 Spain from the New World, and presented by Ferdinand and 
 Isabella to this basilica, which, in the days when Christendom 
 existed in fact as well as in name, was under the protection of 
 the sovereigns of Spain, as that of St. John Lateran was of the 
 sovereigns of France, and that of St. Paolo fuori le mura of [the 
 sovereigns of England. Glorious mosaics of the thirteenth cent- 
 ury cover the vault of the tribune, and look down with the calm 
 serenity of the faith which produced 'them; porphyry columns 
 support the great baldacchino over the high altar, precious mar- 
 bles and alabasters line the chapels. Loving hearts and generous 
 hands have, for fifteen centuries, brought their treasures of wealth 
 and art, and poured them out in this noble sanctuary making it 
 in beauty, as in antiquity, Santa Maria Maggiore. 
 
 To Irene these old temples were the very shrines and home of 
 peace. "When the heavy curtain of the door fell, the world was 
 to her like a thing forgotten. No footstep wandering down the 
 mighty aisles could stir the repose which filled them. To-day 
 she felt strangely languid and inert, but still the customary sense 
 of rest seemed to meet her like a benediction as she walked down 
 the great nave of the church. At another time she would have 
 been thrilled to the quick with its long array of glorious memo- 
 ries, extending over all the ages since that August day in the year 
 of our Lord 352, when Pope Liberius solemnly consecrated this 
 spot to God and the Blessed Mother of God. But personal emo- 
 tion is narrowing in its effect, and she was suffering under the 
 long-continued strain of a personal emotion of the keenest order 
 an emotion from which she was now seeking refuge and relief. 
 Crossing over to the beautiful Chapel of the Holy Sacrament, she 
 knelt there so long that Mrs. Vance at length touched her shoul- 
 der. "When she rose as she did at once the elder lady wag 
 struck by her strangely pallid look. 
 
 "My dear," she said, quickly, " you have been too long in this 
 cold church. Come out into the sunshine immediately."
 
 528 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "I am cold," Irene said, with an involuntary shiver, " though 
 I did not think of it before. Yet the atmosphere of the church 
 seemed very pleasant to me when we entered it." 
 
 " It strikes with a chill, however, when one stays too long," 
 said Mrs. Vance. She took the girl's hand as she spoke. " You 
 feel as if you had a chill," she said. " I shall take you home at 
 once." 
 
 But against this Irene protested. And thinking that what she 
 felt was probably only the effect of having been long motionless, 
 in an atmosphere much colder than that of the outer air, Mrs. 
 Vance consented to go with her to the May devotions and Bene- 
 diction at Sant' Andrea <3ella Valle. But, when this was over, 
 and they came out of the church into the dying evening light, it 
 was quite evident that it was no passing chill that had fastened 
 on Irene. She was now white as a sheet, and shaking with cold. 
 
 " I am afraid that I must be ill," she said. " I feel wretch- 
 edly." 
 
 "I wish I had insisted on going home from Santa Maria Mag- 
 giore," said Mrs. Vance. 
 
 They drove quickly home now, and, when they alighted under 
 their own portone, Irene said : 
 
 "I will go to bed at once, and no doubt I shall be well to-mor- 
 row ; but first I must speak to Mrs. Falconer, lest she should be 
 uneasy about me, and tell her why I can not appear at dinner." 
 
 Antonio opened the door for them, and she turned into the 
 grand sala, intending to pass on to the boudoir, where Mrs. Fal- 
 coner would probably be. But her first glance as she entered the 
 room showed her Mrs. Falconer talking to Stanhope. Both 
 turned as she appeared, and on the faces of both was set the 
 seal of some new and startling knowledge set so unmistakably 
 that attempt at concealment was vain. Irene stopped short : a 
 wild fear touched her heart. She saw again a figure standing in 
 the evening light above the fever-haunted lake of Ninfa. She 
 grew, if possible, paler than she had been before, and, putting 
 out her hand, grasped the back of a chair. Yet, when she spoke, 
 her voice was calm though tense : 
 
 " What has happened ? What is the matter that you both look 
 so strangely ? " she asked.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 529 
 
 They exchanged glances, and Mrs. Falconer murmured, "It 
 may be best to tell her at once." 
 
 " It would be much the best," said Irene, who divined rather 
 than heard the words. " What is it? " 
 
 Stanhope advanced and took one of her cold hands. " It is 
 something," he said, gravely, " which can not be a grief, but may 
 be a shock to you." He paused an instant, then added, " Prince 
 Waldegrave is dead." 
 
 She stared at him for a moment as if she did not comprehend. 
 Then, with dilated eyes still fixed on his face, repeated in a whis- 
 per, " Dead are you sure ? " 
 
 " Perfectly sure. He died in Nice this morning." 
 
 " Dead ! " she repeated. It seemed as if her lips could utter 
 no other sound. Her eyes left Stanhope's face and passed over 
 the familiar scene around her, but finally turned back to him with 
 the same awe-struck look. "It was here that he stood," she 
 said. "Here that I told him I would sooner die than forgive 
 him. But it is he who has died, and that was my last opportunity 
 to do what my mother asked. He humbled his pride to come 
 /was hard and merciless. Now he has gone to answer at another 
 bar." She threw her arms suddenly above her head. " O my 
 God, forgive him ! " she cried. 
 
 The next moment she had fallen fainting at Stanhope's feet. 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 THE physician who was called in to see IrSne looked so grave 
 that Mrs. Falconer, who had heard from Mrs. Vance of the state 
 in which the girl had returned home, asked anxiously if he feared 
 anything serious. 
 
 "It is best to be frank with you," he answered. "There is 
 danger of something very serious. The young lady has taken 
 fever. How virulent its form may be, I can not yet tell but 
 there is much to fear." 
 
 It was indeed true. A frame weakened by mental straggle 
 and laid open to the influence of disease had absorbed some mala- 
 ria amid the flowery haunts of Ninfa. The languor which had 
 23
 
 530 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 oppressed her ever since leaving there was thus in a measure 
 accounted for ; but the fever which would have resulted in any 
 case was aggravated by the shock which had ended her long 
 struggle. 
 
 A struggle of another kind followed now one for life or 
 death. The fever was not that violent disease which runs its 
 fatal course in a day or two ; but was of a lingering form, in 
 which there were many fluctuations, trying to the hearts and tor- 
 menting to the hopes of those who watched beside the bed where 
 the sick girl tossed in delirium or lay in a heavy stupor. So close 
 was the battle, so unceasing had to be the vigilance, that these 
 watchers hardly took note or measure of the passage of time. 
 Everything was for them narrowed down to the hours for medi- 
 cine, to the signs of the doctor's face, to all those things which 
 go to make up the struggle of life or death in desperate illness. 
 
 Meanwhile, the world beyond the sick-room did not fail in 
 kindness and attention. Prince Waldegrave's death, and the ro- 
 mantic stories which had been floating in the air, had quickened 
 interest in Irene even beyond the point where it would in any 
 case have been felt. Numbers of cards and flowers were daily 
 left at Mrs. Falconer's door, and Antonio was constantly occupied 
 with answering inquiries. 
 
 At length there came a day when he kept guard outside the 
 door of the apartment, in order that no touch of its bell might 
 disturb the carefully guarded quiet within ; and those who came 
 heard that the signorina lay almost at the point of death so low 
 that there was little hope of her ever rallying again. 
 
 The inquirers said to each other that the end was no doubt near 
 and those who were Catholic, as they turned away, dropped 
 into the nearest church to pray for the soul in its agony. But in 
 the room where Irene lay there was rather the battle of desperate 
 hope than the calm which follows surrender. The doctor's low- 
 voiced orders were executed instantly by the Sister of Charity 
 who had been installed as chief nurse from the first, and by Mrs. 
 Falconer and Mrs. Vance. Stimulants were unceasingly adminis- 
 tered, and every effort made to keep the fever-wasted strength 
 from sinking utterly. The fatal fire certainly seemed burned out. 
 Like whitest marble now was the skin so lately flushed deep-red,
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 531 
 
 and the lids lay heavily over the eyes which had been so brilliant 
 with the light of delirium. Every few minutes the doctor would 
 lift one attenuated hand which lay on the silken coverlet, to feel 
 the feeble pulse where the vein ran like an azure thread under the 
 skin. 
 
 They are terrible and heart-sickening moments these when 
 life and death hang in a balance so evenly poised that the watcher 
 listens, with every sense intensely strained, for the faint breathing 
 fearing that it may have ceased. More than once they thought 
 that the breath had ceased. "This is the supreme crisis," the 
 doctors said. " It is now simply a question whether or not we 
 can support nature with stimulants until the turn of the tide 
 comes if it comes at all." 
 
 The battle lasted through twelve hours. Then the turn of the 
 tide came. Her pulse grew stronger, her breathing more percep- 
 tible. She was still unconscious, but her state was now more 
 like sleep than stupor. The doctor's face relaxed. He caught 
 Mrs. Falconer's appealing look, and said: "Go to bed and rest. 
 There is hope." 
 
 Several hours later Irene awoke conscious for the first time 
 in many days, though weak as an infant, and needing more than 
 ever, if possible, the most careful nursing. Food, stimulant, 
 sleep these things alone marked the recurring days, for what 
 seemed an indefinite length of time. As in a dream, she saw 
 familiar faces bending over her, she took submissively whatever 
 was put to her lips, and wondered in a vague manner at her own 
 helplessness when she found that she was not able to lift her head 
 from the pillow. 
 
 "I have been very ill, have I not?" she whispered one day 
 faintly to the Sister who supported her with one arm, while with 
 the other she held a cup of broth to her lips. 
 
 " You have been at death's door, my child," was the answer. 
 " But God has seen fit to call you back. He has given you your 
 life a second time." 
 
 The gentle voice sank into the depths of Irene's heart. Tears 
 which in weakness come easily filled her great hollow eyes. 
 " I do not see why He should have given it again to one who has 
 made no more of it than I have," she said.
 
 532 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "Ah," said the Sister, cheerfully, "that is God's way. If he 
 waited to give us what we have deserved, we should never obtain 
 anything. But he gives so generously that we must be ashamed 
 not to try to give a little in return. Now drink your "bouillon, 
 and talk no more." 
 
 But presently, of course, there came a time when this prohibi- 
 tion was removed, and Irene was permitted to talk as much as she 
 liked. Not that she liked to talk much. Speech is a great effort 
 when the body is weak or the mind weary. During the long 
 hours of her convalescence she lay mostly silent, feeling life flow 
 slowly back into her veins. It was on the day when she was first 
 lifted up and placed in a large chair before an open window, 
 through which she looked out on the roofs and towers of Rome 
 once more, and where every breath of air came laden with the 
 perfume of flowers, that she spoke for the first time of the news 
 she had heard on the day she was taken ill. 
 
 " I want to ask you something," she said to Mrs. Falconer, 
 after a long silence. " Did I dream it in my delirium, or was I 
 told, that Prince Waldegrave is dead ? " 
 
 " Yon were told so," answered Mrs. Falconer, in a low tone. 
 " He has been dead a month." 
 
 Silence fell again for several minutes. Mrs. Falconer watched 
 the girl closely, rather dreading the effect of this agitating subject. 
 But Irene seemed perfectly calm. The small, wasted hands re- 
 mained lightly clasped together, and the large, clear eyes gazed 
 steadily out at the sapphire sky. 
 
 "I thought that I could not have dreamed it," she said, at 
 length. "Mr. Stanhope told me in the grand sala, and I heard 
 it standing just where he stood when he came to me." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer could have told her how often she had talked of 
 it in her delirium how, not once, but a hundred times, she had 
 gone over her interview with Prince Waldegrave, and the hour 
 when she heard of his death but she thought it best to let the 
 past rest. As far as Irene's relations with her father were con- 
 cerned, its book was sealed for ever the reparation which had 
 been refused could never be offered again the forgiveness denied 
 never now be granted. Struggle was at an end and she had no 
 desire to intensify any regret the girl might feel.
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 533 
 
 But Irne herself went on speaking: "The greatest human 
 grievance," she said " and surely mine has been very great 
 seems small in the presence of death. When one thinks of the 
 soul before the bar of God's judgment, one's own judgment is 
 turned into a cry for mercy on its behalf. And when one has 
 stood on the brink of eternity one's self when its awful light has 
 shone in one's face one sees many things differently from the 
 manner in which they are seen by the light of time. Like fire 
 then one beholds the words, ' Forgive, as ye would be forgiven.' 
 And / did not forgive." 
 
 "You forgive now," said Mrs. Falconer. "That is much. Do 
 not excite yourself by dwelling on the irrevocable past." 
 
 "That is what makes it so terrible that it is irrevocable," 
 said the girl. " I might not act differently if the chance were 
 given me again only no such chance is ever given us twice for 
 I can hardly believe that the fires of passion are all burned out ; 
 but at least I see my mother's wisdom now. She wished to spare 
 me what I have suffered and must suffer yet. She wished me to 
 reach a noble height : but I was too weak too weak. Yet how- 
 plain it is, in the light of the eternity into which Tie has entered, 
 and on the threshold of which I have stood ! No wrong has any 
 real power to harm us unless we suffer it to drag us down to ha- 
 tred. That was my mother's word. I understand it now." 
 
 "My poor child," said Mrs. Falconer, "have you not suffered 
 enough ? Try to forgive yourself. Try to forget the past." 
 
 "That is difficult," said IrSne. " Forgetfulness is not in our 
 power.'' 
 
 But after this she said no more on the subject, and when pres- 
 ently Mrs. Falconer began to speak of leaving Borne, she listened 
 with interest to her plans, which were briefly that, as soon as she 
 was able to travel, they would go to the Lago di Como, and thence 
 to the Engadine. " Where we will stay," Mrs. Falconer added, 
 " until you have quite recovered your strength." 
 
 A fortnight later the doctor declared that this programme 
 should be carried out that Ire"ne was sufficiently strong to travel, 
 and that she needed a more bracing atmosphere than that of Rome. 
 So, preparations for departure were hurried forward ; and, with a 
 mingled sense of regret at going and of longing for the pure, health-
 
 534: HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 giving air which she knew awaited her in that high region of 
 peaks and clouds to which they were bound, Irene saw their last 
 days in Home drawing to a close. 
 
 It was on the last day but one that Erne came in to dinner, 
 and having been told that Irene had for the first time that after- 
 noon been taken out for a short drive, asked why they had not 
 gone to St. Peter's. "Do you know," he said, "that the Qua- 
 rant' Ore is going on there ? And anything more beautiful than 
 that devotion in St. Peter's can not be conceived." 
 
 " Oh, I did not know, or I should have begged to be taken," 
 said Irene, in a tone full of regret. She was lying on a sofa 
 in the boudoir, where the small party, consisting only of Mrs. 
 Falconer, Mrs. Vance, Stanhope, and Erne, were assembled. The 
 lights were low, for the windows were wide open, and the warm 
 air was heavy with the fragrance of flowers which filled the apart- 
 ment. In the dim light, Erne who sat by the sofa thought that 
 Irene looked more like a spirit than a woman, as she lay, wrapped 
 in a white, fleecy shawl which, despite the warmth, Mrs. Falconer 
 had insisted on throwing over her. She raised herself a little as 
 she went on speaking : 
 
 "I would not have missed it for anything if I had only 
 known ! What a last memory it would be to take away from 
 Borne ! " 
 
 " "Why should we not go now ? " asked Erne, eager to gratify 
 her. "It is even more beautiful by night than by day, you 
 know." 
 
 " If it were only possible if they would only let me ! " she 
 said. 
 
 " There can snrely be no possibility of harm for you, if we 
 drive there quickly in a close carriage," he said. 
 
 But, when the matter was proposed to Mrs. Falconer, she was 
 of another opinion. She was quite sure that it would not do to 
 think of taking Irene out at night, until Stanhope, moved by 
 Irene's great desire, finally agreed with Erne that it was difficult 
 to see how the drive to St. Peter's in a close carriage could harm 
 her. 
 
 " Yon must take the responsibility, then," said Mrs. Falconer, 
 " for I fear that it is most imprudent."
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 535 
 
 " Oh, I will wear a fur cloak, if necessary," said Ire" ne. " Only 
 pray let me go ! " 
 
 " You must promise not to stay a moment longer than I think 
 right," said Mrs. Falconer. 
 
 Irene readily promised this, or anything else which could be 
 demanded of her, and the carriage was ordered. Muffled up 
 closely, she went down on Stanhope's arm, and the party were 
 soon driving across the moonlit city. They had a brief glimpse 
 of the brilliant Corso, with its festive-looking stream of modern 
 life; then they plunged into narrow mediaeval streets, over- 
 shadowed by tall houses ; then crossed the Ponte San Angelo, 
 with the solemn Tiber flowing below, and saw above them the 
 mighty walls of the Castle, witli the glorious angel standing out 
 superbly in floods of moonlight ; then drove through the Leonine 
 City into the great square of St. Peter's, with its fountains flash- 
 ing silver in the lustrous light, which lay white as snow over the 
 immense piazza and its sweeping, statue-crowned colonnades. 
 
 The carriage drew up at the foot of the steps, which people 
 were here and there ascending or descending, looking, if pos- 
 sible, more like pygmies by moonlight than by daylight. Ire*ne 
 slowly mounted with the aid of Stanhope's arm, and supported 
 by it across the portico and vestibule, entered the church. Stan- 
 hope heard her draw her breath with a deep inspiration as the 
 curtain was lifted and the wonderful effect of the interior burst 
 upon them. 
 
 It was an effect of which words can give little idea. Beau- 
 tiful as the Devotion of the Forty Hours is in any Catholic church, 
 most beautiful as it is in any of the great Roman basilicas, it is 
 supremely beautiful in St. Peter's, where all the majesty of " this 
 eternal ark of worship undefiled " seems only a fit setting for the 
 radiance of the high altar. Irene felt glad, as the vision burst 
 upon her, that her visit had been deferred until after night, 
 so much was the impressiveness of the effect heightened. It 
 seemed a solemn world of infinite space and majestic beauty into 
 which they had entered. Far away seeming twice as far as 
 when seen by daylight the high altar under the vast dome was a 
 blaze of lights, which were blended by distance into a golden 
 atmosphere of glory around the jeweled monstrance which held
 
 536 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 the Sacred Host. At intervals along the nave and aisles wax- 
 candles of great size were placed in simple iron stands, hnt, un- 
 able to dissipate the obscurity, their light only made the gigantic 
 proportions of the mighty arches, the depth and height of the 
 chapels, the long vista of the aisles, more apparent. The roof 
 seemed as far away as the sky, and the eye perceiving no limita- 
 tions of space, the mind was unable to realize that it was within 
 a temple built by the hands of man. 
 
 As they advanced up the nave, the splendor of the altar grew 
 more and more dazzling. Immense numbers of wax-lights in 
 rich candelabra were burning on it, in the light of which the rays 
 of the monstrance, set with diamonds, glittered and flashed. The 
 golden lamps before the shrine of the Apostles looked pale be- 
 side this mass of radiance. Before the altar were kneeling more 
 than one cardinal and many monsignori, absorbed in prayer and 
 motionless as statues. On the pavement below numbers of per- 
 sons knelt, and over the whole church brooded a silence scarcely 
 broken by a footfall. People came and went, but their move- 
 ments were almost noiseless. It was a scene never to be forgot- 
 ten in its unearthly beauty, its touching awe. 
 
 But, beautiful as it was, it was not its beauty alone nor chief- 
 ly that appealed to Irene. To her the most deep and solemn 
 thoughts came as she knelt with the light from the altar falling 
 on her face like that light of eternity of which she had spoken. 
 It was a piercing light, which seemed to penetrate the heart and 
 lay bare the soul. " Learn of me," said the gentle voice of Him 
 whose " delight is to be with the children of men " a voice that 
 never speaks with more appealing force than from the altar where 
 he is throned to receive the homage of their love. 
 
 But Mrs. Falconer, very uneasy about what she feared was a 
 great imprudence, would not suffer her to remain long. " You 
 must come, my dear remember yonr promise," she whispered, 
 and Irene had no choice but submission. They passed ont as 
 slowly and softly as they had entered, leaving the lights to burn, 
 the watchers to kneel through all the long hours of the night. 
 Irene felt as if she were leaving her heart behind her. For this 
 was Eome. Here was the true Eternal City. Turning when they 
 reached the door to kneel again before the now distant altar
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 537 
 
 but beautiful in its distance as a vision of the New Jerusalem 
 she found herself almost too weak to rise without assistance. 
 She looked around, but the others were already passing out of 
 the door. Then, before she could make an effort to rise alone, 
 some one stepped quickly forward from the shadow of a massive 
 pillar and offered assistance. She accepted it, and, regaining her 
 feet, found herself face to face with Waldegrave. 
 
 There was a moment's pause. Irdne did not seem in the least 
 startled, or even surprised. And as she stood, so calm, so pale, so 
 shadowy-looking, "Waldegrave felt, like Erne, as if a spirit rather 
 than a woman was before him. After an instant, she silently 
 held out her hand, and, when he relinquished it, she turned with 
 a wistful look of farewell and passed out of the door, leaving 
 him standing like one in a dream. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "WHERE do you think you would like to go for your last 
 drive in Rome ? " asked Mrs. Falconer of Irene, the next after- 
 noon. 
 
 IrSne hesitated a moment, and then said : " I think I should 
 like a short walk as well as a drive, and there is a beautiful view 
 of the Campagna from the terrace of the Villa Mattei. Should 
 you rnind going there ? And we can return by the Lateran." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer thought this a very good programme for a con- 
 valescent needing air and gentle exercise, and consented to carry 
 it out. An hour later, as they were descending to the carriage 
 which was drawn up at the foot of the steps, Stanhope walked 
 in under the portone, and, being invited to accompany them, ac- 
 cepted the invitation. 
 
 As they drove out, Mrs. Falconer looked at him with a smile. 
 " Do you remember," she said, " one day in Paris when you put 
 Irene and myself for the first time in a carriage together, but 
 declined to accompany us ? " 
 
 " I remember it very well," he answered, returning the smile. 
 " And you might give me credit for self-denial. I only declined 
 because I wanted you to know each other, and, if possible, become 
 friends."
 
 538 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 "It proved very possible," said Mrs. Falconer, putting her 
 hand down on Irene's. " The first links of our friendship were 
 forged that day." 
 
 " And from the first to the last they have all heen forged by 
 your kindness," said Irene. 
 
 It was not a long drive to the Villa Mattei, and, leaving the 
 carriage at the gate, they walked slowly through the grounds 
 down the long avenues of closely trimmed box, under tall pines 
 and picturesque ilexes, where statues stand out against a back- 
 ground of far blue hills, and fountains playing softly in green re- 
 cesses. Here, as everywhere else in Kome at this season, bloomed, 
 also, a multitude of flowers roses lavishing their sweetness on 
 the air, myrtle that seems to deck the earth for its bridal with 
 the sun, orange-blossoms with their honeyed fragrance, and a 
 wild riot of jasmine and honeysuckle. 
 
 Presently they emerged upon the terrace. At their feet were 
 the noble old walls of Eome, beyond them the many-hued Cam- 
 pagna, crossed by the Titan arches of the ruined aqueducts, while 
 bounding the horizon afar were the soft, luminous outlines of the 
 Alban Hills, robed in tenderest color. 
 
 Even this short walk exhausted Irene, however, and when they 
 came to that seat under the arching ilex-shade, where "Saint 
 Philip Neri loved to sit and talk with his companions of the things 
 of God," Mrs. Falconer insisted that she should rest on it. Then, 
 with an instinct that, in such a scene, the girl would like to be 
 alone, she said : 
 
 "We will leave you here for a little while to enjoy the view, 
 while Mr. Stanhope and myself explore the garden hi the other 
 direction." 
 
 Irene looked up with a smile. " Do not hasten your return on 
 my account," she said. "I feel as if I should like to stay here all 
 the afternoon." 
 
 It was certainly a scene to sink into the spirit and remain 
 engraved upon the memory. The wide distance of that storied 
 plain, over which hangs, like a glamour of enchantment, an atmos- 
 phere full of the most exquisite tints and shades of color known 
 to nature or to art, the divine beauty of those azure heights, fair 
 as the heavenly hills " whence help cometh," and the sapphire
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 539 
 
 sky flecked by soft white clouds which threw their ever-changing 
 shadows over plain and hills, so that the scene varied almost mo- 
 mentarily, and with every variation seemed to acquire new charm 
 all were full of a power which in Irene's case touched some of 
 the most sensitive chords of her being. Always an ardent lover 
 of nature, she felt now as if earth and air and sky had a new 
 meaning for her. She thought of what the Sister who nursed her 
 had said : " God has given your life to you a second time." It 
 was indeed a new, fresh gift this fair outspread beauty, this balmy 
 sunshine, this sense of the great harmonies of nature. 
 
 And while she sat, silent and motionless, with the flickering 
 shadows of the ilex-boughs falling over her black dress and the 
 white hands, from which she had taken off her gloves, while her 
 gaze dwelt on the soft outlines of the Alban heights, a step came 
 again, as once before, down the ilex avenue behind her, and again 
 an unseen spectator paused full of surprise at seeing her, and 
 uncertain whether or not to address her. 
 
 But so striking was her appearance of weakness, so evident 
 the traces of recent illness even more evident in this clear light 
 than in the obscurity of St. Peter's the night before that he 
 finally decided not to do so, and, retreating as he had come, met 
 Mrs. Falconer and Stanhope at the other end of the avenue. 
 
 The consequence of this was, that a few minutes later Mrs. 
 Falconer made her appearance in front of Irene, and when the 
 latter looked up, saying, "Is it time to go ? " she answered: "No. 
 I have come for a different purpose. I do not like to trouble you, 
 and yet I hardly could refuse " She paused ; then, as Irene sim- 
 ply looked at her inquiringly, went on: " We met Count Walde- 
 grave a few minutes ago. He came here accidentally but, since 
 he is here, he begged me to ask if you will allow him to speak to 
 you. He promises not to be agitating." 
 
 "Here! is he here? " asked Irene. To Mrs. Falconer's sur- 
 prise, she exhibited no sign of astonishment or agitation. " I knew 
 that he was in Rome. I saw him in St. Peter's last night," she 
 said, quietly. "Yes, you may tell him to come. But do not 
 leave us very long. Neither he nor I can have much to say." 
 
 Mrs. Falconer did not feel sure of this, so far as Waldegrave 
 was concerned, but she was very sure that it was not well that
 
 540 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 much should be said. So, promising to return before very long, 
 she went away. 
 
 If Irene required to nerve herself at all for the coming inter- 
 view, there was no sign of it in her appearance when Waldegrave 
 presently stood before her. She had not stirred from the position 
 in whicb he had seen her first ; and when he appeared she only 
 looked up and held out her hand silently, as she had done the 
 night before. He clasped it as silently. It seemed impossible 
 that either could speak. Yet at last he spoke first : 
 
 " You have been very ill. I would see it, even if I had not 
 heard it." 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " I have been very ill so ill that I am 
 like one who has been called back from death. Do you know 
 what that is ? to have stood on the brink of the other world, to 
 have looked at this world from the verge of eternity ? Nothing 
 in life seems the same afterward. One gets new weights and 
 measures, as it were." She paused a moment and looked away 
 from him then turned her grave eyes back again. "I have 
 changed in one thing at least," she said. 
 
 " And that thing ? " he asked. But as he asked he thought to 
 himself that she seemed changed in many things. He saw no 
 signs of the old, haughty fire, and still less of the shrinking which 
 she had displayed at Ninfa. She met his gaze with the calmness 
 of one who in fierce struggle had exhausted the power of keen 
 emotion, and reached at last a new height of knowledge and feel- 
 ing. 
 
 But she did not answer his question immediately. She looked 
 instead at the mourning which he wore, and, when she spoke, 
 said, gently: 
 
 "You, too, have suffered since I saw you last. For you were 
 attached to Prince Waldegrave, were you not? " 
 
 " Very much," he answered, in a low tone. 
 
 "I am sorry for you," she said, with the same gentleness. 
 " It is a terrible thing to lose one whom we love by death. I 
 have thought of you I have felt for you and now I am glad to 
 have an opportunity to tell you that, in the moment I heard of 
 his death, I forgave him all the past. Everything rushed upon 
 me then the realization of what it must have been to him to
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 541 
 
 humble bis pride, and come to ask forgiveness and offer repara- 
 tionand the consciousness of how I had failed in what God 
 commands, and my mother asked. I was beaten to the earth by 
 that consciousness. Illness had fastened on me already but that 
 was the finishing stroke. I sank under it. I stood on the thresh- 
 old of eternity, crying for the pardon I_ had dared to refuse " 
 she looked at him with great dilated eyes in her white face "I 
 deserved nothing, yet life was given back to me. I am here." 
 
 " Thank God for it ! " he exclaimed. " To lose one whom we 
 love is indeed hard ; but if it had been two I did not know of 
 your illness until I returned to Rome a few days ago. I went to 
 Germany with my uncle's body. I had much to do there before 
 I could return. I hardly hoped to find you here. Then I heard 
 that you had been desperately ill ; and when I suddenly saw you 
 last night, kneeling before the high altar in St. Peter's, I almost 
 feared that what I saw was not yourself, but your spirit." 
 
 "With a faint smile she looked down at her thin hands. " I 
 have certainly lost all my flesh," she said. " But I think now 
 that I shall get well. For a long time I did not think so. I 
 simply lay and waited for death. And I do not know yet why it 
 did not come." 
 
 " It did not come because there is much for you to do in life," 
 Waldegrave answered. "And do you not know that the sun 
 would have gone out of the world for me if you had died ? " 
 
 " Oh, no,'' she said, calmly. " You think so, but it is not so. 
 You would soon have forgotten me, and it would have been bet- 
 ter much better." 
 
 " Better for you, or better for me? " he asked. 
 
 " I meant better for you," she answered. 
 
 " I deny it utterly," he said. " It can never be better for a 
 man to have an influence taken out of his life which might lead 
 him to higher things than he could hope to reach without it. 
 You embody such an influence to me." 
 
 "I! " she said, "// who failed so utterly to reach the height 
 which was put before me ? " 
 
 " You judge yourself now," he said, " as hardly as you have 
 before judged others and less justly. You forget how natural it 
 is for one who has been deeply wronged to be resentful and im-
 
 542 HEART OF STEEL. 
 
 placable. You were deeply wronged and to help you to forgive 
 one who is gone, let me tell you some of his last words.' ' Re- 
 member,' he said to me, 'justice is in. your hands now. Do for 
 my daughter whatever she will suffer you to do.' " He paused, 
 then in a lower tone of entreaty added : " What will that daughter 
 suffer me to do ? What will she accept ? " 
 
 "Nothing," she answered. " There is nothing for you to do 
 nothing which I can accept. I could never, under any circum- 
 stances, have taken anything. It is not that which I regret 
 not that refusal." 
 
 "Yet forgiveness, if you had granted it, would have been 
 empty without that practical proof," he said. "And even now, 
 if you forgive, you ought to take what is your right what I 
 only hold in trust for you and what nothing will ever induce 
 me to use as my own." 
 
 " You will not be so foolish," she said, in a tone of alarm. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "I shall be just so foolish if you call it 
 foolishness. Indeed, I have no choice. My uncle's wishes are 
 binding on me, if not on you. But if you would be generous if 
 you would rise still higher " 
 
 She lifted her hand to silence him. " Do not talk of it! " she 
 said. " It is you who are generous but what you ask is impos- 
 sible." 
 
 " And is it impossible," he demanded, with sudden ardor, " that 
 you can ever listen to my love, ever give me any love in return? 
 The wrong which, you declared, lay like a gulf between us, is it 
 not closed by death ? Do you not know that I have loved you 
 ever since I saw your face shining like a star on this very spot 
 here, where I came this afternoon to dream of you, and where, 
 instead, I have found you? Is there no good omen in that? 
 Irene, will you not take from love what you refuse from jus- 
 tice?" 
 
 She was shaken by his tone and words he could see that 
 yet the face with which she looked at him was not one to encour- 
 age hope. Dark shadows had too lately fallen around her for the 
 sunshine of love to have tempting power. 
 
 " Do you think that death has closed the gulf? " she asked, in 
 a low tone. " I do not. And there are others "
 
 HEART OF STEEL. 54-3 
 
 " There is no gulf between us that I do not feel able to cross 
 in time," he answered. "What I have told you before Ire- 
 peat : I shall never surrender hope or effort until I have won from 
 you the power to atone for the past, until you suffer me to give 
 you the name and rank of which you were deprived. But I 
 promised to speak of nothing agitating and I fear that I have 
 done so." 
 
 " No," she answered, though she had grown perceptibly paler, 
 " I am only sorry " 
 
 "There is no need for you to be sorry," he interrupted. " All 
 risk of failure or of pain is mine. And I do not mean to persecute 
 you. After to-day I shall probably not see you again for a long 
 time. Only remember that, wherever you go, you will carry my 
 heart and my hope with you and some day you will wake to a 
 knowledge even beyond that which you have reached and see 
 that love alone can wipe out wrong." 
 
 She did not answer. His words of confident prediction were 
 at least uncontradicted. 
 
 And now the shadows began to lengthen over the marvelous 
 plain, its amethystine distances to deepen in tint, and, as a soft 
 purple glow stole over the Alban Hills, each town and village on 
 their heights flashed like a brilliant jewel. At the end of the ter- 
 race Mrs. Falconer and Stanhope were seen slowly advancing 
 toward them. Ir&ne looked out over the fair wide scene, swim- 
 ming in sunset glory ; then turned her eyes again to the face be- 
 side her. 
 
 "Let us bury all memory of the past here," she said, in a voice 
 as sweet and solemn as an Angelus bell. " Never speak of it to 
 me again. And whatever the future holds for us what it holds 
 is as God wills I shall never forget that it is love which has wiped 
 out the bitterness of wrong."
 
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 his colossal undertaking, for, although possessing another title, they, in truth, 
 are but a part of the work begun so long ago." New York Times. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTEENTH CEN- 
 TURY. By W. E. H. LECKT, author of "History of the Rise and Influ- 
 ence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe," etc. Volumes III and IV, 
 extending from the accession of George III to 1784, the opening year of 
 Pitt's first ministry, and covering the period of the American Revolution. 
 Published by arrangement with the author. Large 12mo. Uniform with 
 Vols. I and II, of which new editions are now ready. The 4 vols., cloth, 
 $2.25 each. 
 
 "This section of the work covers the flret twenty -two years of the reign of 
 George III, a period which, in its bearing on constitution?!, political, and social 
 problems, was the most pregnant in the modern history or Great Britain. It 
 was during these momentous years that the relation of the Crown to a Ministry 
 representing the House of Commons was definitely fixed, that the necessity of 
 parliamentary reform and the expediency of abolishing Catholic disabilities were 
 distinctly recognized, and that the influence of the newspaper press acquired un- 
 precedented weight among political agencies, and called for new guarantees of 
 freedom bv chanaes in the law of libel. This was the period of Bnrke's most 
 potent and exemplary activity, of the Middlesex election in which Wilkes played 
 a part analogous to that taken by Bradlaugh in cur own day, of the ministries cf 
 Bute, Grenville, Rockingham, Chatham, Shelbnrne, and the younger Pitt. 
 
 "At home and abroad this quarter of a century was memorable for conquests 
 and revolutions. The affairs of the East India Company were administered by 
 Uive, and the vast accessions of territory iu Bengal were supplemented by those 
 resulting from the war with Hyder All. In America the discontent of the thir- 
 teen colonies had ripened into open revolt, and all the phases of the contest are 
 exhibited iu these volumes, up to the last year of exhaustion and inaction which 
 preceded the final peace. Simultaneous with this movement on the other side 
 of the Atlantic was the growth of political discontent in Ireland, which culmi- 
 nated in the demand for legislative independence. All of these topics are carefully 
 discussed by Mr. Lecky, and the spirit which he evinces is so candid and impar- 
 tial that his conclusions will be listened to with attention and respect, even where 
 they run counter to the reader's individual opinions and predilections." New 
 York Sun. 
 
 for sale by all booksellers ; or will be sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt QfpriM. 
 New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 APPLETOIS' HOIE BOOKS. 
 
 A Series of New Hand- Volumes at low price, devoted to all 
 Subjects pertaining to Home and the Household. 
 
 Handsomely printed, and hound in cloth, flexible, with illuminated design. 12mo. 
 60 cents each. 
 
 I. 
 
 Building a Home. 
 
 By A. F. OAKEY. Illustrated. 
 
 " Mr. Oakey discusses house-building for the purposes of people of moderate means 
 in the Middle States, and gives plans and elevations of cottages from the very cheap- 
 est to a house to be built at a cost of $9,000. The conditions of building, with reference 
 to the climate and material, are fully set forth, and the class of readers whom the book 
 contemplates will find it of advantage." New York World. 
 
 II. 
 
 How to Furnish a Home. 
 
 By ELLA EODMAM- CHDECH. Illustrated. 
 
 "Mrs. Church's directions for house-furnishing, while very artistic and cheerful, are 
 adapted to the wants of the great army of limited incomes. The chapters wend their 
 way from vestibule, hall, and staircase, the ' living-rooms, 1 kitchen, parlor, library, and 
 dining-room, and bedrooms, up to the servants' quarters, for which last the sugges- 
 tions are particularly apt. What may bo done in the way of home decoration and up- 
 holstery is pointed out, with advice on the finishing touches that so often go to make 
 a house a home." Philadelphia Ledger. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Home Garden. 
 
 By ELLA EODMAN CHUBCH. Illustrated. 
 
 "We have instructions for gardening and flower raising, in-door and out. Eoses 
 and lilies have separate chapters, and there is much valuable information about fern- 
 eries, city gardens, miniature greenhouses, and methods of utilizing small spaces for 
 vegetable-raising." Albany Argus. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Home Grounds. 
 
 By A. F. OAKET. Illustrated. 
 
 ,.,ave way, how the 
 iparatively little ex- 
 
 " In ' Home Grounds,' Alexander F. Oakey tells, in a very suggest! 
 surroundings of a suburban home may be made beautiful at compai 
 pense." Christian at Work. 
 
 V. 
 
 Amenities of Home. 
 
 By M. E. W. S. 
 
 u The author has not spared good sense, right feeling, or sound principle. ... A 
 better book for reading in the family circle it would bo hard to name." Literary 
 World. 
 
 " Old rules for happy homes are made to appear fresh ; indeed, vivacity is the marked 
 trait of the book." Boston Advertiter. 
 
 [SEE NEXT PAGE.]
 
 APPLETONS' HOME BOOKS. (Continued.) 
 
 VI. 
 
 Household Hints; 
 
 A Book of Home Keceipts and Home Suggestions. By Mrs. EMMA W. 
 BABCOCK. 
 
 " The author has evidently been used to the nice economics of life, and her experi- 
 ence is of more than ordinary value. The book is not entirely given up to culinary 
 items; there are talks on various subjects that occupy nearly half its pages, and the in- 
 troduction is full of sound advice and happy suggestions on making and ordering: a 
 pleasant home, that shall have a ' certain physiognomy of its own.' "Boston Courier. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Home Decoration: 
 
 Instructions in and Designs for Embroidery, Panel and Decorative Paint- 
 ings, "Wood-carving, etc. By JANET "E. ETTCTZ-KEES, author of 
 " Horace Vernet," etc. With numerous Designs, mainly 
 by GEOBOE GIBSON. 
 
 CONTENTS: I. Introductory; II. General Remarks; III. Materials and Prices ; IV. 
 Stitches and Methods ; V. Window -Hangings and Portieres; VI. Screens; VII. Lam- 
 brequins and Small Panels ; VIII. Incidental Decorations; IX. Wood-carving. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Home Amusements. 
 
 By M. E. W. S., author of " Amenities of Home," etc. 
 
 CONTENTS: I. Prefatory; II. The Garret; III. Private Theatricals, etc. ; IV. Ta- 
 bleaux Vivants; V. Brain Games; VI. Fortune-Telling; VII. Amusements for a Rainy 
 Day: VIII. Embroidery and other Decorative Arts; IX. Etching; X. Lawn Tennis; 
 XI. Garden Parties; XII. Dancing; XIII. Gardens and Flower-Stands; XIV. Caged 
 Birds and Aviaries ; XV. Picnics ; XVI. Playing with Fire. Ceramics: XVII. Arch- 
 ery; XVIII. Amusements for the Middle-Aged and the Aged; XIX. The Parlor; 
 XX. The Kitchen; XXI. The Family Horse and other Pets; XXII. In Conclusion. 
 
 IX, 
 
 The Home Needle. 
 
 By ELLA EODMAN CHURCH. 
 
 CONTENTS: I. "Go Teach the Orphan-Girl to Sew "; II. Beginning Right TJnder- 
 Gannents; III. Under-Garments (Continued); IV. "The Song of the Shirt"; V. 
 Rudiments of Dress-making; VI. Dress-making in Detail; VII. Sewing and Finish- 
 ing; VIII. The Milliner's Art; IX. Children's Garments; X. House-Linen; XI. 
 The Mending Basket ; XII. A Patchwork Chapter. 
 
 X. 
 
 Home Occupations. 
 
 By JANET E. EUTJTZ-BEES. 
 
 CONTENTS : I. Introductory; II. What can be Done with Leather; III. The Possi- 
 bilities of Tissue-Paper: IV." Modeling in Wax: Flowers; V. Modeling in Wax: 
 Fruits, etc.; VI. The Preservation of Flowers and Grasses; VII. Spatter- Work ; 
 VIII. Frame-Making; IX. Collections; X. Making Scrap-Books; XI. The Uses of 
 Card-board ; XII. What can be Done with Beads ; XIII. Amateur Photography ; XIV. 
 Miscellaneous Occupations. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 VALUABLE HAND-BOOKS. 
 
 Errors in the Use of English. 
 
 By the late WILLIAM B. HODGSON, LL. D., Professor of Political Economy 
 in the University of Edinburgh. American revised edition. 
 12mo, cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " This posthumous work of Dr. Hodgson deserves a hearty welcome, for it is 
 sure to do good service for the object it has in view improved accuracy in the 
 use of the English language. . . . Perhaps its chief use will be in very distinctly 
 proving witb/what wonderful carelessness or incompetency the English language 
 is generally written. For the examples of error here brought together are not 
 picked from obscure or inferior writings. Among the grammatical sinners whose 
 trespasses are here recorded appear many of our best-known authors and publi- 
 cations." The Academy. 
 
 The Orthoepist: 
 
 A Pronouncing Manual, containing about Three Thousand Five Hundred 
 
 Words, including a Considerable Number of the Names of Foreign 
 
 Authors, Artists, etc., that are often mispronounced. By ALFRED 
 
 AYKES. 18mo, cloth, extra, $1.00. 
 
 u One of the neatest and most accurate pocket manuals on pronunciation is ' The 
 
 Orthoepist.' by Alfred Ayres. The little book ought to be on every library- table." 
 
 N. T. Christian Advocate. 
 
 The Verbalist: 
 
 A Manual devoted to Brief Discussions of the Right and the Wrong Use 
 of Words, and to some other Matters of Interest to those who 
 would Speak and Write with Propriety, including a Treatise on 
 Punctuation. By ALFRED AYKES, author of "The Orthoepist." 
 18mo, cloth, extra, $1.00. 
 " A great deal that is worth knowing, and of which not even all educated people are 
 
 aware, is to be learned from this well-digested little book." Philadelphia North 
 
 American. 
 
 The Rhymester; 
 
 *)r, THE RULES OF RHYME. A Guide to English Versification. With a 
 Dictionary of Rhymes, an Examination of Classical Measures, and 
 Comments upon Burlesque, Comic Verse, and Song- Writing. By 
 the late TOM HOOD. Edited, with Additions, by Arthur Penn. 
 Uniform with "The Verbalist." 18mo, cloth, gilt or red edges, 
 $1.00. 
 
 " Ten or a dozen years ago, the late Tom Hood, also a poet, and the son of a poet, 
 published 'The Kules of Rhyme,' of which we have a substantial reprint in ; The 
 Rhymester,' with additions and side-lights from its American editor, Arthur Penn. 
 The example of Hood's great father in his matchless melodies, his own skill as a cun- 
 ning versifier, and the accomplished editing of Mr. Penn, have made this booklet a 
 useful guide to English versification, the most useful one, indeed, that we are acquainted 
 with." The Critic. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers ; or sent by matt, post-paid, on receipt of 
 ew York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 8, & 5 Bond Street
 
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