TV/,3 
 
THE FLAME 
 
THE FLAME 
 
 BY 
 
 LOUISE E. TABER 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 1911 
 
Copyright, 1911, by 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
DEDICATED 
 TO 
 
 W. C. MORROW 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND AND INSPIRING TEACHER 
 
THE FLAME 
 
THE FLAME 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PRINCE JEAN MARIE GERARD PHILIPPE 
 DE BOURBON, duelist, gambler, romancer, 
 and, incidentally, fortune-hunter in America, sat in his 
 luxurious apartments in the Fairmont Hotel with his 
 eyes straying indifferently over the Bay of San 
 Francisco. It was late in the afternoon and the set 
 ting sun tinged the eastern sky with a rainbow of 
 delicate coloring. His Highness of Bourbon was 
 not conscious of the charms that nature has scattered 
 with a lavish hand over the territory lying within the 
 Golden Gate. Neither the green-clad Yerba Buena 
 Island, with its naval school, lying imposingly in the 
 greenish-blue water, nor the panorama of the city 
 below him, attracted his attention. He was not think 
 ing of the mammoth buildings that in three years had 
 arisen in the desolation caused by the disaster in 
 1906; it was not the new San Francisco that was in 
 teresting him now, but the annexing of many mil 
 lions of dollars to his own shattered fortune that was 
 occupying his thoughts. Prince Jean Marie was 
 congratulating himself over the clever game he felt 
 that he had played by coming to far-away San Fran 
 cisco in search of a gilded bride, instead of remain- 
 
 9 
 
10 THE FLAME 
 
 ing in New York, the fortune-seeker s hunting 
 ground. He had strayed from the beaten path, and 
 flattered himself that the venture would prove success 
 ful. Having inquired into all the marriageable for 
 tunes in the city, he had decided that the one most 
 befitting his needs was that possessed by the pretty 
 and petite Gwendolyn Rolfe, who, from his viewpoint, 
 was the most desirable debutante of the season, since 
 she was ignorant of the frivolities of the world, es 
 pecially those with which he was satiated. She was 
 the ideal wife for the man who had run the gamut of 
 adventures and pleasures in the French capital. Her 
 mother and father were dead, and her only protector 
 was her brother, who was the trustee of her estate, 
 which was known to be fifty million dollars. 
 
 The thought of this wealth brought a slow smile of 
 satisfaction to His Highness s delicately chiseled lips. 
 He leisurely blew a thin thread of smoke into the air 
 and tossed his expensive cigarette into the gold and 
 enamel ash tray that bore his coronet. Stretching 
 out comfortably, he rested his slim, slippered feet on 
 the seat of a gilt chair upholstered in rose brocade. 
 All the furniture in the three rooms he occupied had 
 been upholstered anew, because his aristocratic and 
 sensitive nature rebelled against using what had been 
 the common property of the plebeian millionaires who 
 had occupied the rooms before him. Marrying an 
 American heiress was all the plebeianism he could en 
 dure. But he consoled himself that Gwendolyn was 
 refined, not " loud " and independent like some heir 
 esses he had met over here in the New World, al 
 though he wished that she had more of the reserve and 
 
THE FLAME 11 
 
 dignity that noble blood gives to the grand dames of 
 Europe. Perhaps he could teach her this " distinc 
 tion." She was still a child. 
 
 His Highness felt very confident that he had won 
 Gwendolyn s favor. The only obstacle was her 
 brother, who was very keen on the subject of money 
 and morality. Jean Marie thought that he could 
 satisfy Richard Rolfe on the question of morality, 
 for, although his life had been most irregular, he never 
 had been connected with a notorious scandal. And 
 then, Paris is quite a distance from San Francisco, 
 and Richard Rolfe was not fond of travel, nor did he 
 speak French. 
 
 His Highness was, however, perturbed over the 
 presence of Mario Cavarodossi, an untitled Italian of 
 good birth. Mr. Rolfe expressed a friendship and 
 partiality for this Italian that exerted a disquieting 
 influence over the Prince, because he could see that 
 Gwendolyn also was pleased with him, but he tried to 
 convince himself that she would not prefer an untitled 
 commoner to His Highness Prince Jean Marie 
 Gerard Philippe de Bourbon. And then his own per 
 sonal attractiveness ! 
 
 His Highness drew his gray silk dressing gown 
 closely about his slender, dapper form and rested his 
 head against the back of his chair. With the tips 
 of his fingers pressed lightly together, he gazed up at 
 the deep border of red roses on the white wall paper 
 and another self-satisfied smile stole over his lips. 
 He was good-looking and he knew it. His black, 
 wavy hair was silky; his brown eyes were mild one 
 moment, sparkling the next, and always expressive; 
 
12 THEFLAME 
 
 his nose was finely shaped and delicately chiseled, and 
 his oval face had a poetic contour. 
 
 " Fra^ois ! " he called. His voice was soft and 
 musical, and he spoke with a slight drawl that was 
 habitual. 
 
 The servant hurried out of the green bedroom and 
 bowed deeply. 
 
 " Bring me the letter I received an hour ago." 
 
 Fran9ois disappeared into the blue " study," took 
 an envelope from the elaborately carved table, laid it 
 on a salver and carried it to His Highness, after 
 which he noiselessly retired, turning again at the 
 door to bow before his master. 
 
 A delicate heliotrope perfume rose from the laven 
 der paper as Jean Marie drew the letter from the en 
 velope. 
 
 " I hope Your Highness will give us the honor of 
 your presence at an informal dinner to-morrow even 
 ing," he read. " I need not add how grieved I shall 
 be if you disappoint me, because you know how I 
 enjoy your company and how I count upon your wit 
 and cleverness. You are such a gracious enter 
 tainer ! " 
 
 Jean Marie slipped the letter back into the envelope 
 and tossed it on a table. It gratified him that Gwen 
 dolyn was beginning to understand that he was neces 
 sary to her. She realized that she was not his equal 
 in cleverness. It was something even to have im 
 pressed her with his superiority, his " distinction." 
 
 It was growing dark, and His Highness called 
 Fran9ois to light the room and order dinner served 
 in the apartments. Going into his " study," the 
 
THEFLAME 13 
 
 Prince sat down to his desk and drew out some gray 
 letter paper which bore his coronet in mother-of- 
 pearl. He wrote : 
 
 Adorable Mademoiselle: 
 
 As the birds at early morn, overjoyed 
 and inspired by the glorious sun, flutter 
 their wings and indulge in song, so I, an 
 hour ago, intoxicated with joy when the 
 sweet fragrance of the heliotrope arose from 
 your dear note, tossed back my head and 
 sang ! Yes, sang with sheer delight ! 
 
 You need not fear that I shall disappoint 
 you to-morrow evening. Have I ever neg 
 lected an opportunity that would bring me 
 to your side? Ah, Mademoiselle! What 
 a world of feeling there is in a sigh ! 
 
 Au revoir! In homage I place myself 
 at your feet. 
 
 JEAN MARIE DE BOURBON. 
 
 The Prince laughed softly as he closed the letter 
 and addressed it. If Gwendolyn could see some of 
 the sirens who had accepted his adoration, would she 
 believe that he humbly placed himself at her feet? 
 But he knew that she was thrilled at the mention of 
 birds and flowers and music. The innocent child ! 
 
 The Prince sat down to dinner in his dressing gown, 
 and Fra^ois served him. His meal consisted of the 
 daintiest food and the choicest wines. When the 
 table was cleared away, His Highness took a novel 
 and stretched himself out in an easy chair at the win- 
 
14 THEFLAME 
 
 dow at the end of the room. He drew aside the tan 
 silk draperies and occasionally raised his eyes from 
 the book and let them drift over the bay to the lights 
 that twinkled like golden stars on the opposite shore. 
 He felt extremely comfortable and at peace with all 
 the world. 
 
 Two impatient, compelling knocks fell upon the 
 door. 
 
 " See who it is, Franois, but I am not at home to 
 callers," said the Prince in a low tone. 
 
 The valet opened the door. 
 
 " His Highness is not Madame ! " Fra^ois 
 stood transfixed. 
 
 The woman brushed past him and swept into the 
 room before he could hinder her. 
 
 The Prince glanced up, dropped his book, and 
 sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Camille ! " The name fell from his lips with a 
 gasp, and the color faded from his face; it rose, and 
 faded again. 
 
 With a laugh of sarcastic triumph, the woman 
 tossed back her head and two fiery black eyes en 
 veloped him with a mocking, exultant gaze that 
 quickly softened, only to rekindle with defiance. 
 
 " You are surprised to see me, Jean," she said in a 
 clear, cutting tone. " How long did you think I 
 would endure your silence? " 
 
 He did not answer, but tried to show disdain, al 
 though he was trembling in every nerve and dared not 
 speak; he knew his voice would betray him. 
 
 Amusement stole into her eyes and she smiled, but 
 the next moment her mobile countenance and flexible 
 
THEFLAME 15 
 
 voice expressed a sudden reproachful tenderness that 
 jarred most uncomfortably on the Prince. 
 
 " You promised to write by every steamer," she 
 said, " and you did for a month, then the letters grew 
 farther apart, until they ceased. I haven t received 
 a word for seven months. Had you forgotten me? " 
 She paused, then demanded with speculative coldness, 
 " What have you been doing? " 
 
 " You know why I came to America," he harshly 
 retorted. " I have been trying to recover my for 
 tune." 
 
 " And you have been successful? " 
 
 He gave an angry shrug. 
 
 With a slow, easy step, the woman came into the 
 middle of the room, and, puzzled, irritated, she studied 
 him a moment. 
 
 " Who has come between us, Jean ? " she quietly 
 asked, but a challenge flashed from her eyes. 
 
 " No one." He was annoyed and fear began to 
 grip him, fear of her beauty, of her impetuous, vio 
 lent nature. She was as dangerous as a knife con 
 cealed in a handsome sheath. There was nothing in 
 his life that she did not know. 
 
 " I have not written, because I m not a good cor 
 respondent, that s all," he brusquely added. 
 
 Her face darkened and slow anger began to burn 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Who has come between us ? " she insistently re 
 peated, but there was a purring tone in her voice that 
 affected him unpleasantly. 
 
 He forced a light laugh. " Are you jealous, 
 Camille? I didn t think you cared so much." 
 
16 THEFLAME 
 
 The fire in her eyes flared and she sprang forward 
 and seized Gwendolyn s letter, which he had tossed 
 upon the table. But she could not read English. 
 She impatiently flung off the black velvet mantle that 
 was slipping from her bare shoulders. Her faultless 
 figure was revealed in all its perfection by the sleeve 
 less black satin princess gown, cut very low. The 
 whiteness of her skin contrasted vividly with her 
 gown and her black, glossy hair, in which sparkled a 
 diamond star. Her lips were perfectly curved and 
 very red, and the classical contour of her face made it 
 strikingly handsome and expressive. She was per 
 haps twenty-five, and in the prime of beauty. Jean 
 Marie realized this as he watched her, and the old in 
 fatuation began to throb again in his heart and with 
 it the same uncertainty of her next move. He had al 
 ways feared her as much as he had loved her. What a 
 difference between this glowing creature and little 
 Gwendolyn Rolfe ! Several times he had grown tired 
 of Camille Dubray because of her uncertainty and her 
 whirlwind vivacity, and had cast her aside for some 
 new beauty from the dance halls. But now she stirred 
 his blood as she did the day he first beheld her. 
 
 " A woman ! " she said, as she glanced from the 
 letter to the Prince. A faint color rose to her cheeks 
 and the challenge returned to her eyes. " I knew it ! 
 Why else have you been silent all these months? " 
 
 " That is merely an invitation to an informal din 
 ner," was his impatient answer. 
 
 She smiled and sharply called, " Fra^ois ! " 
 
 The valet came from the bedroom, into which he 
 
THEFLAME 17 
 
 had retreated, and glanced at the Prince with distress 
 and alarm. 
 
 Camille handed the letter to him. " Read this to 
 me, Fran9ois, I can only speak English, and read 
 it correctly." 
 
 " Monsieur ! " the valet pleaded. 
 
 The Prince, enraged, took a threatening step to 
 ward Camille, but the warning look she flashed at him 
 made him turn aside, and he went to the window and 
 stood looking out. 
 
 She glanced back to Fra^ois. " Read the let 
 ter!" 
 
 He obeyed. She listened eagerly to every word, 
 dismissed him with an imperious wave of the hand 
 when he had finished, and laughed coldly as he closed 
 the bedroom door behind him. Turning a chair 
 round, so that she could face the Prince, she sank 
 into it, and studied the back of his head with an artful 
 gleam in her eyes. 
 
 " So," she said, tauntingly, " the American girl 
 uses you for her jester! She counts upon your wit 
 and cleverness, because you are such a gracious en 
 tertainer! Is this the way in which you are recover 
 ing your fortune? Does she pay you to don the cap 
 and bells ? Your uncle, the Due de Castelnau, would 
 be charmed to know of his nephew s employment in 
 America ! " 
 
 Jean Marie winced, but he laughed lightly. 
 " Mademoiselle has cleverly discovered my little 
 scheme of American enterprise," he said with gay 
 sarcasm, " and now that Mademoiselle has satisfied 
 
18 THEFLAME 
 
 her curiosity and regained her sweet temper, will she 
 not look at the charming view from this window? 
 Over there in the water, where you see the lights, is 
 Alcatraz Island, on which the United States govern 
 ment confines the disorderly soldiers. And beyond is 
 Angel Island, another government reservation. It is 
 very interesting, isn t it ? " He turned to her with 
 his breeziest manner, as if nothing in the world con 
 cerned him more than the panorama seen from his 
 windows. 
 
 She coldly surveyed him. 
 
 " I did not come to San Francisco for geograph 
 ical study," was her calm reply. " It was not to lo 
 cate islands, but a man." 
 
 " Mademoiselle overwhelms me." He bowed low 
 with his hand pressed to his heart, then sank into the 
 chair at the window. 
 
 They looked challengingly into each other s eyes 
 for a moment. 
 
 " Who is this girl, Jean ? " she demanded. 
 
 He shrugged indifferently. " A very sweet little 
 thing who was graduated from a convent about a year 
 ago." 
 
 " She is rich? " 
 
 " Yes. Her estate is valued at fifty million dol 
 lars." He knew it would be useless to deceive Ca- 
 mille. 
 
 "And she loves you?" 
 
 A smile flitted across the Prince s face, but he said, 
 impatiently : " No, we are only friends." 
 
 " Jean ! " It was a quick cry and her voice quiv 
 ered. " Don t marry her ! Don t ! " She sprang 
 
THEFLAME 19 
 
 forward, threw herself on her knees beside him, and 
 seized his hand. 
 
 Jean Marie caught a startled breath. His pulse 
 quickened at the familiar touch and he involuntarily 
 clutched her fingers. 
 
 " Jean ! " she fervently repeated, clasping her arms 
 round his neck. " Don t marry her. It could never 
 be the same again. Let us go to New York. I can 
 make money there singing in vaudeville or in a cafe. 
 Love me as you did when we first met ! " She pressed 
 her cheek against his and clung to him. 
 
 Her hair scented with his favorite perfume, her 
 soft cheek, the passion in her voice, thrilled him, and 
 with a sudden fierceness he caught her in his arms. 
 
 " Camille ! " he murmured, and pressed a long kiss 
 on her ardent lips. 
 
 " You are mine, Jean, mine ! I won t give you to 
 another." Her head sank upon his shoulder and they 
 were silent for a time. Suddenly she drew back and 
 looked at him. 
 
 " You didn t seem glad to see me." Cold delibera 
 tion had replaced the tenderness in her voice. " I 
 don t believe you do love me as you did when you left 
 Paris. It s that American you care for now." She 
 rose and stood before him. 
 
 The fear of her reawakened in Jean Marie. He 
 wished he could rid himself of her for the present, so 
 that there would be no danger of a scandal. What 
 would she do if she were convinced that he was trying 
 to win the heiress ? It would be the end of his golden 
 dream if the implacable Richard Rolfe should hear 
 of his relations with the cafe singer. 
 
20 THE FLAME 
 
 " Tell me, Jean," she demanded with increasing 
 ardor, and a frown was deepening on her forehead, 
 " have you asked that girl to marry you ? " 
 
 " No ! There is nothing between us but a friend 
 ship which is advantageous to me. I met Miss Rolfe 
 soon after I arrived here in San Francisco and she 
 invited me to her home. It is a fortunate acquaint 
 ance, because she and her brother can introduce me 
 to millionaires, and already I am forming schemes 
 that will bring me money." 
 
 By the look she flashed at him he knew that she 
 discredited his words. 
 
 " Schemes ! " she sniffed indignantly. " With a 
 fifty-million-dollar heiress within reach there is but 
 one scheme that you would be forming." 
 
 She whirled off, and, walking to the other end of the 
 room, stood before a long mirror in which she could 
 watch the Prince, while petulantly arranging some 
 straying locks of hair and straightening the jet orna 
 ments dangling on her gown. Her pride, her vanity, 
 rebelled against losing him, although it was something 
 more than infatuation for him that had brought her 
 to America. She had been away from Paris but two 
 weeks, yet already she was beginning to be dissatis 
 fied because she was robbed of her many admirers, 
 who surfeited her with luxury and adoration. Jean 
 Marie s vacillating love was a small recompense for 
 the sacrifice. Perhaps he felt too sure of her. She 
 would find another lover and torment the Prince into 
 subjection. He once had been her most devoted 
 adorer; she would make him so again. 
 
 The slow fire kindling in her eyes was a warning to 
 
THEFLAME 21 
 
 Jean Marie. How could he force her to abandon 
 him? 
 
 " Miss Rolfe is only a sweet child," he said, slowly, 
 " far too simple and uninteresting to bear the title 
 of the Princess de Bourbon. I am sure that her 
 brother is opposed to me, and he is the trustee of her 
 estate. The girl is in love with a dashing, handsome 
 Italian who breathes romance and mystery. He is 
 wealthy, and is the type of man who would attract any 
 woman, especially one so young and inexperienced as 
 Miss Rolfe. There is sentiment even in his name, 
 Mario Cavarodossi. He sings, and he plays the 
 piano, and is exceedingly attractive and popular." 
 
 Camille brightened and gave a quick glance at her 
 beautiful reflection in the mirror. A dashing Ital 
 ian ! She was partial to the sons of Italy, and from 
 this one she also could learn how serious was the 
 friendship between Gwendolyn and the Prince. It 
 would be a double game and an exciting one. She 
 knew that she was a dangerous foe, and already she 
 looked upon the American girl as an enemy. 
 
 " I suppose you are acquainted with this Mario 
 Cavarodossi," she said with a thrill in her voice. 
 
 The Prince had been watching the rapid shades of 
 expression that flitted across her face, and when she 
 spoke he believed he understood her thoughts, well 
 knowing her coquetry. A sudden plan flashed into 
 his mind. He would bring Camille and Cavarodossi 
 together. This would be his means of ridding himself 
 of Camille for the present, and, at the same time, he 
 could ruin the Italian s chance of winning Gwendolyn 
 by having her brother informed of Cavarodossi s ac- 
 
22 THEFLAME 
 
 quaintance with the singer. He clutched the arms of 
 his chair and stifled the triumphant exclamation that 
 rose to his lips. 
 
 " Yes," he said, with sudden indifference, " Cavaro- 
 dossi and I are acquainted, but I cannot say that we 
 are friends. He is a charming fellow and I believe 
 him to be a nobleman of importance traveling in 
 cognito. One feels his distinction at once." Jean 
 Marie was lying. He thought the Italian was very 
 " heavy " and uninteresting, because there was noth 
 ing dainty, nothing of the exquisite in his nature. 
 " It is not surprising that Miss Rolfe goes into ecsta 
 sies over him," he went on carelessly, taking a ciga 
 rette from his gold case and reaching for a match. 
 " She is so romantic and easily dazzled by stirring 
 tales of mystery and sword play, that the stories of 
 ancient castles, heroic cavaliers, and thrilling love ad 
 ventures, completely fascinate her. It seems a pity 
 that such a clever fellow should throw himself away 
 on an inexperienced child. He is worthy of a bril 
 liant woman." 
 
 Camille whirled round. Her eyes were sparkling, 
 her red lips were parted in a smile, and her cheeks 
 were slightly flushed. She was radiant with victory. 
 Jean Marie watched her with a throbbing heart, but 
 he masked his victory with unconcern. She slowly 
 went back to the chair near him and took a cigarette 
 from the case he had laid on the table. Her supple 
 figure moved with feline grace and he was unpleas 
 antly aware that she seemed more dangerous in San 
 Francisco than in Paris. She threw herself back in 
 the chair with indolent grace, her long lashes shading 
 
THEFLAME 23 
 
 her eyes, her lips puckered coquettishly as she blew a 
 thin cloud of smoke into the air. Suddenly she 
 sprang up and dashed her cigarette into a tray. 
 
 " You have lied to me, Jean ! " she snapped at him. 
 " I don t believe a word you have said about Gwen 
 dolyn Rolfe being simple and childlike. You are try 
 ing to win her and you want to deceive me, but I m 
 not a fool ! Don t think that I am going to give you 
 up. You are mine, because I ve She flashed 
 him a significant, defiant glance. 
 
 Jean Marie caught a quick breath and reddened. 
 The muscles of his face set hard, and he rose and 
 turned away to the window. 
 
 A taunting little smile of mischievous amusement 
 crept over her lips, and she shrugged with a quick 
 flaunt. Stealing up behind him, she pressed a light 
 kiss on his neck. 
 
 " Jean ! " she said in a caressing, pouting tone, 
 " won t you introduce Mario Cavarodossi to me ? I 
 don t know a soul in San Francisco but you, and I m 
 afraid I may be lonesome, dear." 
 
 He did not speak, but was breathing hard. 
 
 " You know," she added, after a pause and her 
 arms went slowly round him, " if he sings well, he 
 could be of assistance to me. He might be able to 
 teach me something, too." The words fell slowly, 
 caressingly from her lips. 
 
 Jean Marie jerked away. " Teach you some 
 thing ! " he echoed with an annoyance half feigned. 
 " What is there in art or artifice that you have not 
 learned already ? " 
 
 She laughed softly. " Are you jealous, Jean? " 
 
24 THEFLAME 
 
 " Yes ! " He walked away. 
 
 Her eyes were lustrous with satisfaction. 
 
 " Really, now," she purred, " I didn t think you 
 cared so much. You gave me such a chilly recep 
 tion," with a little shudder. 
 
 "Where are you living? " he interrupted. 
 
 " Here at the Fairmont. I arrived this morning." 
 
 " You mustn t stay here," he said with a sudden 
 sweetness. " I shouldn t be able to see you without 
 causing gossip. Go to some obscure hotel where I 
 am unknown and my visits will not be discussed by 
 curious attendants. You had better return to your 
 room now. Callers have a disagreeable way of drop 
 ping in at untimely moments." He picked up her 
 mantle from the floor. 
 
 She pouted. " You are tired of me." 
 
 " Cruel enchantress ! " he said, breezily. " That 
 could never be. Come ! " coaxingly. 
 
 She tossed back her head and flashed him a saucy 
 glance. " You are horrid to me, Jean Marie ! " 
 
 She went towards him and let him wrap the gar 
 ment round her. He folded her in his arms as he did 
 so, and said low in her ear : " I am glad you have 
 come, Camille. I didn t know how much I wanted 
 you." 
 
 She raised his hands clasped over her breast and 
 kissed them with a quick fervor, but a mocking, ex 
 ultant smile was in her eyes. 
 
 They went towards the door. 
 
 " You have fine apartments," she said. 
 
 " Yes, and I must soon find a way by which I can 
 restore my rapidly ebbing capital." 
 
THEFLAME 25 
 
 " Are you in debt again ? " It was asked with a 
 quick flash of anxiety. 
 
 " No," he laughed. " It isn t that bad, yet." 
 
 " If you need it, Jean, I can " 
 
 " No," he interrupted. " The way in which I ob 
 tained the money to come to America must not be re 
 peated. A last kiss, and then good-night." 
 
 " No, I won t kiss you. I don t love you any 
 more." She quickly opened the door and stepped 
 out into the corridor. 
 
 " Oh, Camille ! " he pleaded. 
 
 She laughed lightly. " I ll move to the obscure 
 hotel to-morrow," she said, " and you may come and 
 see me, that is," and her eyes twinkled merrily, " if 
 you bring Mario Cavarodossi." She closed the door 
 before he could answer. 
 
 Jean Marie fretfully snapped his fingers and went 
 back and sank into the chair he was in when Camille 
 had burst in upon him. For a while he sat quiet and 
 thoughtful. There was danger surrounding Camille, 
 but he felt that he w r ould win in the end and that his 
 triumph would come through the ensnaring of his 
 rival, Mario Cavarodossi. But how many uncom 
 fortable moments would Camille make for Jean Marie? 
 The Prince frowned and drew his dressing gown about 
 him with an impatient jerk. He must guide matters 
 as cautiously and shrewdly as possible. If only Rich 
 ard Rolfe did not exist! 
 
 " Fran9ois ! " His Highness called in a tart tone. 
 * I am going to bed. Bring me a bottle of absinthe." 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 /GWENDOLYN came slowly down the broad 
 VJf stairs into the hall and paused on the last step 
 and listened. Mario Cavarodossi was in the music- 
 room playing the piano and singing arias from " La 
 Tosca." His tenor voice was warm with feeling and 
 possessed a rare charm, not because he was a studied 
 artist, but because he was born a singer. He had 
 that intuitive art common to the Italians. There 
 were fire and soul and tears in his voice and he could 
 play on the heartstrings of every listener. 
 
 Gwendolyn stood very quietly and her pink crepe 
 gown fell softly about her graceful figure. She was 
 small and slender, with a dainty ethereal loveliness 
 that had captivated several artists. The light held 
 by the bronze warrior on the newel shed its bright 
 rays on her wealth of blonde, naturally wavy hair 
 coiled loosely on the top of her head. She was 
 pretty, but her greatest charm was her large eyes mot 
 tled gray and violet. They were eyes that looked 
 out into the world with questioning simplicity, inno 
 cent, trusting, fawnlike eyes that were appealing and 
 reflected her sweet character. Long black lashes 
 veiled them, and they were crowned with beautiful]^ 
 curved brows. She rested one hand on the newel and 
 closed her eyes while listening to Mario s passionate 
 
 music, and her face pictured every emotion he ex- 
 
 26 
 
THEFLAME 27 
 
 pressed with his voice. When he ceased singing, but 
 went on playing, she quietly hurried into the room, 
 and going up behind him, with a quick impulse rested 
 her hand on his shoulder, and said, with a little thrill 
 in her voice : 
 
 " How wonderfully you sing ! You make me feel 
 as though I were Floria Tosca ! " 
 
 Cavarodossi rose with a start, and the blood 
 mounted under his clear, dark skin. 
 
 " I didn t know you were listening, Signorina ! " 
 His voice was melodious. 
 
 " What a gift it is to be able to sing as you sing ! " 
 Gwendolyn clasped her hands and looked up into his 
 face with admiration. The soft light fell upon her 
 from the piano lamp at her side and the violet coloring 
 in her eyes deepened. 
 
 Mario felt a sudden impulse to clasp her in his 
 arms, she was so sweet, unaffected and entirely femi 
 nine. 
 
 " Won t you sing again for me? " she asked. 
 
 He smiled an assent, and after she had taken a chair 
 near the piano, sat again on the stool and resumed 
 his singing. 
 
 Gwendolyn studied him. He was above medium 
 height, powerful and broad-shouldered, but easy in 
 manner and endowed with the careless Italian grace. 
 His features were strong, clear-cut and noble. She 
 was thinking of the contrast between Cavarodossi and 
 Jean Marie. The Italian was unassuming; the 
 Frenchman made people remember his noble blood and 
 name, although he was always gracious. What was 
 it about the Prince that attracted her so strongly? 
 
28 THEFLAME 
 
 It was the air of romance surrounding him. She 
 felt a little ashamed of her infatuation while looking 
 at the strong man before her, yet she knew that when 
 Jean Marie would come she would feel the same thrill 
 and her heart would flutter. 
 
 " Mr. Rolfe told me to-day that you are to have a 
 distinguished guest here to-night," said Cavarodossi, 
 suddenly turning to her. 
 
 " Yes. Janos Feleki, the Hungarian violinist who 
 is visiting San Francisco, has promised to come to 
 dinner, although I hardly expect him, he is so erratic. 
 I was warned not to ask him to bring his violin, be 
 cause if he feels in the mood he will bring it and play 
 without an invitation." 
 
 Mario laughed. " I am curious to meet him." 
 
 The maid drew aside the portiere and Jean Marie 
 entered. Displeasure flashed across his face when he 
 found Gwendolyn and Cavarodossi alone, but he 
 quickly smiled, exclaiming, as he went forward: 
 
 " The lovely pink and white lady is radiant to 
 night ! " He bowed low over her hand and pressed 
 her fingers. 
 
 Cavarodossi noticed with annoyance that a secret 
 sympathy and understanding were in the looks they 
 exchanged. The two men greeted each other with 
 cold but extreme politeness. 
 
 The other guests began to arrive. There were to 
 be ten at dinner. Jean Marie was very gracious to 
 Miss Beatrice Morris when she appeared with her 
 brother, who was a brilliant young lawyer and Mr. 
 Rolfe s most intimate friend. Beatrice and Gwen 
 dolyn had been school friends and the Prince felt that 
 
THEFLAME 29 
 
 her favor was worth winning. Three other girls 
 presently arrived and hovered around Jean Marie, 
 flashing him admiring glances. He had a compli 
 ment for every one and played the cavalier to each in 
 turn. 
 
 An exclamation of pleasure went round when the 
 portiere was raised and the great artist, Janos Feleki 
 entered, violin in hand. Jean Marie drew a sharp 
 breath and took a backward step. 
 
 Feleki made a striking picture as he stood quiet for 
 a moment after the red plush portiere had fallen be 
 hind him. He was of medium height, slender, with a 
 nervous agility. His hair was black, long and fluffy ; 
 his thin face was pale and his features were sharp and 
 classical; his eyes were brown and alert until music 
 softened them. His hands expressed his genius, being 
 slender and white, with long fingers, and a nervous, 
 sensitive force seemed to emanate from them at every 
 move. 
 
 " You are most welcome," said Gwendolyn, hurry 
 ing towards him. " It is kind of you to bring your 
 violin. I dared not hope for such a pleasure." 
 
 " It is an honor to play for Mademoiselle," he an 
 swered with a quick, clear enunciation. 
 
 Gwendolyn introduced him to her guests. A 
 startled look flashed into Feleki s eyes and he blanched 
 when he was presented to the Prince de Bourbon, who 
 was standing at the farther end of the room. Jean 
 Marie bowed low to hide his face. They exchanged 
 no words, but Feleki, as if he never before had heard 
 the name, pronounced it in a significant yet thought 
 ful tone : " The Prince de Bourbon ! " 
 
30 THEFLAME 
 
 When the violinist was introduced to Cavarodossi, 
 he grasped the Italian s hand and said warmly : 
 
 " I hope we can be friends. You are an artist." 
 
 " No, but I love music," Cavarodossi returned. 
 
 " You are an artist. I can see it in your eyes." 
 Feleki s tone withstood contradiction. 
 
 Richard Rolfe entered. He was tall, athletic in 
 build, with clean-cut features and shrewd, steel-gray 
 eyes that were very disturbing to Jean Marie when 
 they rested upon him for any length of time. 
 
 They went in to dinner, the Prince escorting Gwen 
 dolyn. 
 
 " The ladies ran away and left me when the violin 
 ist came," he said to her in a low tone, " but I wanted 
 to feast my eyes upon you alone." 
 
 Gwendolyn blushed. " Your Highness is trying 
 to make me vain." 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle, I only want you to know your 
 charm." 
 
 At the table Janos Feleki sat at Gwendolyn s right 
 and Jean Marie at her left. The Prince cast a fleet 
 ing but triumphant glance at Cavarodossi, who was in 
 the middle of the table and across from him. Rich 
 ard Rolfe quietly smiled as he caught the glance 
 which Mario ignored. 
 
 " I don t intend to appear here in public again 
 this season," Feleki was saying to Miss Morris, who 
 sat beside him. A nervous tone was in his voice and 
 his hands were slightly trembling. " I am remain 
 ing here in San Francisco for my summer vacation. 
 I have fallen in love with this wonderful place. You 
 should be proud of your men who have so quickly 
 
THEFLAME 31 
 
 rebuilt the city. They are glorious in energy and 
 enterprise, and their work seems almost magic. Did 
 you remain here after the disaster? " he asked, turn 
 ing to Gwendolyn. 
 
 " No, we went to New York and I stayed there 
 over a year, but my brother returned here in three 
 months. He is one of our glorious rebuilders." Her 
 eyes were brilliant with pride as she cast a loving 
 glance at Richard, and he brightened. " I am en 
 thusiastic over New York," she went on. " Especially 
 its music and art. I went to the opera every 
 night during the season and attended all the concerts 
 given by great artists. Richard says that I am 
 music-mad." 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed Feleki with enthusiasm. 
 " Music is the grandest, noblest and most inspiring 
 of all the arts. You have an interesting name," he 
 added, glancing at Mario. 
 
 " Yes, and Puccini has made me love it since he has 
 immortalized it in music. It gives me a thrill to hear 
 * La Tosca and see the tenor, my namesake, Mario 
 Cavarodossi, shot down on the platform of the Castle 
 Sant Angelo. I know every inch of Rome, my na 
 tive city, and that last act, with the Vatican and St. 
 Peter s in the distance, stirs my blood as no other 
 opera can." 
 
 " You are a splendid hero," said Mr. Morris, " and 
 you die a noble death, a martyr for your cause and 
 fidelity to your friend." 
 
 " Then we may call Floria Tosca a martyr for 
 love," said Jean Marie, sipping his wine. " You 
 should find such a woman." He raised his eyes to 
 
32 THEFLAME 
 
 Cavarodossi, and there was a mocking smile in 
 them. 
 
 " It wouldn t be difficult," Mr. Rolfe said quietly 
 and glanced from Cavarodossi to Gwendolyn with 
 speculative shrewdness. 
 
 Jean Marie forced a lofty smile and sipped his wine 
 again. 
 
 Feleki s alert intuitiveness discerned the rivalry be 
 tween the Prince and the Italian, and his sympathy 
 went to Mario. He was somewhat socialistic in his 
 ideas and was not partial to noblemen, especially to 
 Jean Marie. 
 
 " I love Puccini s music," Gwendolyn said quickly, 
 casting a nervous glance from her brother to the 
 Prince. 
 
 " Yes," answered Feleki, understanding, " but when 
 you have heard one of his operas, you have heard all. 
 He is not a great genius, but an unusually clever me 
 chanic, if such a word may be adapted to music." 
 
 " I miss the opera here in San Francisco," said 
 Cavarodossi. " In Rome I used to go every night." 
 
 "How long have you been in America?" asked 
 Feleki. 
 
 " Two years, and I have been in this city nearly 
 all the time. I came to see the ruins, and stayed, be 
 cause I found that I could be of assistance to some of 
 my countrymen." 
 
 Richard nodded. " His benevolence and loyalty 
 have made him a hero in the Italian colony." 
 
 " We suspect him of being a great nobleman in 
 cognito," said Miss Morris, smiling. 
 
 " Come now, won t you confide in us ? " Jean 
 
THE FLAME 33 
 
 Marie s drawling, playful tone had the faintest tinge 
 of sarcasm. 
 
 " I would if I had anything to confide," returned 
 Mario, good-naturedly. 
 
 " Perhaps he fears we may think him a titled for 
 tune-hunter in America," said Feleki, not raising his 
 eyes from his plate. 
 
 Jean Marie flashed him a glance that combined 
 fear and anger, but the fire instantly died, and he 
 said with scornful levity: 
 
 " Do you accuse me of belonging to that class, 
 Monsieur Feleki? " 
 
 The artist s eyes were opened very wide as he 
 raised them to the Prince. 
 
 " Monsieur, how you wrong me ! " His tone was 
 shocked and aggrieved. 
 
 " Who, indeed, could accuse the Prince de Bour 
 bon of being a fortune-hunter?" Mr. Rolfe s voice 
 sounded very clear and crisp and his steel-gray eyes 
 rested on Jean Marie with a calmness that made the 
 Prince s blood run cold. 
 
 " Surely no one would attempt it," said Mr. Mor 
 ris. " The air surrounding Your Highness is 
 charged with wealth." 
 
 Every eye was turned to Jean Marie. There were 
 handsome gems on his shapely hand lying on the 
 table ; his cuff buttons and studs were diamonds, and 
 his watchfob was his coronet in jewels. 
 
 Jean Marie smiled graciously upon Mr. Morris, 
 but inwardly he was swearing vengeance against Rich 
 ard Rolfe and Feleki. 
 
 Gwendolyn was uncomfortable and did not let her 
 
34 THEFLAME 
 
 guests linger at the table after the last course, but 
 took them into the spacious conservatory adjoining 
 the music-room, where coffee was served. 
 
 " Do you sing? " Feleki asked Gwendolyn, as he 
 stood beside her chair. 
 
 Jean Marie had been sitting close to her, but when 
 Feleki approached, he rose and went slowly towards 
 the fountain in the middle of the conservatory and 
 stood watching the little goldfish in the water. 
 
 " I haven t much vocal talent," Gwendolyn said, 
 " and I lose courage to study when I hear great 
 artists." 
 
 " You shouldn t. Your speaking voice is very 
 musical. Perhaps you have more talent than you im 
 agine. I should like to hear you sing * Caro Nome * 
 from Rigoletto. Feleki paused and added 
 thoughtfully, after a moment s silence : " To me that 
 is a realistic opera, the story of the Duke of Man 
 tua pretending to be a poor student and bringing 
 ruin to a confiding, innocent girl. Such an incognito 
 is a low, beastly trick." A stinging hatred and con 
 tempt were in his quiet tone and his glance fell care 
 lessly upon Jean Marie, who had turned aside and 
 was bending lower over the goldfish. " I ll play now, 
 if you wish." Feleki tossed back his head and ran 
 his fingers through his fluffy hair. 
 
 All the guests went into the music-room, with the 
 exception of Jean Marie, who said he preferred to 
 remain alone in the conservatory and dream while 
 under the spell of Feleki s enchanting music. 
 
 Cavarodossi offered to accompany Feleki on the 
 piano, and proved himself to be a performer with a 
 
THEFLAME 35 
 
 kindred soul and technical skill. The listeners sat 
 with bated breath while Feleki s violin sobbed and sang 
 and laughed. His body swayed in unison with the 
 varying tempi of the Hungarian music. His hands, 
 his face and even his waving hair expressed the differ 
 ent shades of passion that rose and fell with the mas 
 terful bow. His eyes grew tender, lustrous, limpid, 
 then the quivering lids drooped and the long lashes 
 veiled them. 
 
 After the last tone had died away, it was several 
 seconds before Feleki opened his eyes and the little 
 audience roused from the spell of his music and broke 
 into a noisy applause. The violinist felt in the mood 
 for playing, and did not wait to be coaxed. 
 
 Gwendolyn was deeply stirred by the music. Tears 
 welled in her eyes and her throat was throbbing. 
 She wished that Jean Marie were near her. She felt 
 that for some unexplainable reason her brother and 
 Feleki were leagued against him, and that Jean 
 Marie was remaining alone in the conservatory be 
 cause he too felt it. Clutching the arms of her chair, 
 she held herself rigid in her endeavor to restrain the 
 tears that forced themselves into her eyes. Why 
 was Richard so unkind? 
 
 When she could no longer endure the Prince s ab 
 sence, she slipped from the room while the violin 
 strings were trembling and singing under Feleki s in 
 spired touch. She quietly entered the conservatory 
 by the hall door, and found Jean Marie sitting in a 
 corner from which he could not see into the music- 
 room. He was leaning forward with his elbows rest 
 ing on his knees and his hands hanging limp. He 
 
36 THEFLAME 
 
 held a cigarette tightly between his teeth. Gwendo 
 lyn was at his side before he heard her. Looking up, 
 he quickly rose. She saw that the debonair light was 
 gone from his eyes. 
 
 " Feleki is a wonderful artist," he said, softly. 
 " How could you leave while he is still playing ? Will 
 you sit here? " 
 
 She sank into the chair, and sat for a moment 
 pulling nervously at her handkerchief. " Why do 
 you stay here alone? " she asked with a sudden im 
 pulse. 
 
 He dropped on the ottoman at her feet. Seeing 
 her emotion, he summoned his courage to play upon 
 her sympathy. He must win her quickly or never. 
 
 " I have felt depressed all day," he slowly said. 
 
 " I trust nothing has happened." 
 
 " No, but I want to be sure that nothing will." He 
 clasped her fingers, as they rested on the arm of the 
 chair, and quickly pressed a light kiss upon them. 
 " Forgive me, Mademoiselle," he said, drawing back 
 as if regretting his boldness. " That music has in 
 toxicated me. Listen to the frenzy of its appeal ! " 
 
 They sat quiet for a time, but above the wailing 
 tones of the violin, Gwendolyn heard the throbbing 
 of her heart. 
 
 " Is he not wonderful? " she asked, and when Jean 
 Marie did not raise his head, added, softly, " Your 
 Highness ! " 
 
 Jean Marie glanced up quickly, and dropping on 
 one knee, seized her hand, and said with an impas 
 sioned thrill in his voice: 
 
 " Don t say * Your Highness ! I want you to 
 
THEFLAME 37 
 
 forget that I am a Prince. Think of me only as the 
 humblest of men and call me, as my mother did, sim 
 ply Jean Marie ! " He buried his face in the folds 
 of her gown. 
 
 Gwendolyn clasped her hands tightly and gazed 
 down with startled eyes at his wavy black hair. When 
 she glanced up, the music had ceased, and Mr. Rolfe 
 stood in the doorway with his steel-gray eyes fas 
 tened upon her. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 and Jean Marie had not spoken for 
 several minutes, and she was watching him with 
 puzzled, questioning eyes. They were at dinner in 
 one of the popular restaurants in the Italian Colony, 
 " II Fior d ltalia." The Prince dared not be seen 
 with Camille in public where he might be known, and 
 even in this restaurant, patronized almost entirely 
 by Italians, he took the precaution to dine in one of 
 the private boxes that lined both sides of a narrow 
 hallway just back of the public dining-room. There 
 had been but few people in the public room when he 
 and Camille entered at half after five, but now it was 
 nearly eight o clock, and the room was crowded. 
 
 Jean Marie was eating very slowly, and his thoughts 
 seemed to have flown far from Camille. Presently 
 she laid her knife and fork on her plate, and settling 
 back in her chair, folded her arms and studied him 
 with a frowning countenance that was reddening with 
 anger. 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Jean?" she sud 
 denly demanded in a cold, impatient tone. " You 
 haven t spoken for at least ten minutes, and you 
 don t even appear to be aware of my presence." 
 
 He started and glanced up quickly. 
 
 " I am most happily aware of your presence, my 
 love," he returned with a suave smile. " I am dumb 
 with joy." 
 
 3d 
 
THEFLAME 39 
 
 She looked him full in the eyes. " Jean, you have 
 acted strangely since you went to that American 
 girl s home for dinner five nights ago. What hap 
 pened there? " 
 
 " Nothing. It was a quiet, enjoyable evening. 
 The Rolfe home is not a place in which to find ani 
 mated entertainment. You must remember that 
 Mademoiselle was educated in a convent." 
 
 Camille did not return his smile. " You have been 
 preoccupied ever since that night, and the day fol 
 lowing you did not call to see me. Did the girl 
 reject you? Perhaps she thinks that the title of the 
 Prince de Bourbon is not great enough for her 
 fifty million dollars ! " Sarcasm was in her voice and 
 eyes. 
 
 " I have told you, Camille, that I have no inten 
 tion of marrying the girl, unless you drive me to 
 it." 
 
 She laughed with a taunting scorn. " Unless / 
 drive you to it ! America is developing your wit." 
 
 " Drive me to it with your coldness and cruelty," 
 he added, ignoring her laugh. 
 
 " Coldness ! " she sharply echoed. " Look here, 
 Jean, this monotonous life is unbearable. I won t en 
 dure it much longer. You don t come to see me if it 
 doesn t suit your pleasure, and if I don t have some 
 excitement, I ll die of ennui, or make some excite 
 ment for myself." She smiled significantly. 
 
 Jean Marie fastened an uncomfortable gaze on her. 
 " What will you do ? " he carelessly asked, after 
 pushing back his plate and emptying his glass of 
 wine. 
 
40 THEFLAME 
 
 A triumphant quiver ran through her serpentine 
 body, her red, sensuous lips parted in a slow smile, 
 and her eyelids drooped with languid scorn. 
 
 " I ll go and interview Miss Rolfe. I ll ask her 
 why she isn t willing that the charming Prince de 
 Bourbon and I should enjoy her fifty million dollars. 
 I ll make her understand how essential her American 
 gold is to us." 
 
 Jean Marie pressed his lips tightly together and 
 his hands clenched under the table with a jerk. 
 
 " You don t look happy, Jean," she purred, caress 
 ingly, " and you are going to see her to-night ! Will 
 Mario Cavarodossi also be there? " 
 
 " Yes," he savagely growled. " Didn t I tell you 
 that she is in love with him ? " 
 
 " Poor Jean Marie ! " she sighed. " What event 
 did you tell me they are celebrating to-night ? " 
 
 " The third anniversary of the earthquake." 
 
 " What a jarring affair to make merry over ! You 
 look quite upset already, Jean." 
 
 The Prince was grateful for the intrusion of the 
 curly-haired Italian waiter, whose eyes brightened 
 with admiration every time they fell upon Camille. 
 Jean Marie paid for the dinner and with a wave of 
 the hand dismissed the waiter. When they were 
 alone, he rose and began to brush a few crumbs from 
 his coat. 
 
 " There was more admiration in that waiter s eyes 
 when he looked at me than I see in yours," pouted 
 Camille, with a sudden reproachful tenderness. 
 
 Jean Marie s face brightened and bending down, 
 he patted her cheeks and kissed her hair. 
 
THEFLAME 41 
 
 " No one loves and admires you as I do, Camille. 
 You know it." 
 
 " Then we mustn t quarrel, Jean, and you must 
 care for me as you used to." 
 
 " I haven t changed, but you are suspicious and 
 doubting." 
 
 She laughed with a careless sweetness. 
 
 Their box was the first from the main dining-room, 
 and as Jean Marie drew aside the portiere and they 
 stepped out into the hallway, his eyes fell upon 
 Cavarodossi and Feleki, who were making ready to 
 leave the restaurant. Cavarodossi s face was turned 
 towards them, but Feleki was speaking to the waiter. 
 Jean Marie sprang back and forced Camille into their 
 box so quickly that he thought Cavarodossi did not 
 see them. 
 
 " Who is it ? " she asked, surprised. 
 
 " A man I don t care to meet." 
 
 " Do you owe him money? " she laughed. 
 
 Jean Marie smiled, knowing that she did not sus 
 pect. 
 
 " Yes," he said. " Money and a grudge." 
 
 A few minutes later they left the restaurant. 
 Cavarodossi and Feleki had disappeared. The Prince 
 and Camille entered the carriage waiting for them 
 and Jean Marie ordered the driver to take them to 
 Camille s hotel. 
 
 " I don t want to go home yet," she said, as they 
 drove off. " I shan t have any company all the 
 evening. I ll drive with you to the Rolfe home, 
 no one will know that I am in the carriage, and 
 then I ll go to my hotel." 
 
42 THEFLAME 
 
 Jean Marie did not answer. 
 
 " I don t want to leave you," she added, stroking 
 his hand and laying her head on his shoulder. 
 
 He felt apprehensive, but could give no reasonable 
 excuse for refusing to let her go with him. Pressing 
 her fingers, he slipped his arm around her, but it was 
 some minutes before he gave the driver Gwendolyn s 
 address. 
 
 As they neared their destination, the coachman 
 drew in his horses. A motor-car, coming from the 
 opposite direction, stopped before the Rolfe mansion, 
 and while the carriage was approaching, two men 
 stepped from the machine; as one went forward to 
 speak to the chauffeur, the light fell upon his face. 
 
 " Look ! " gasped Camille, seizing the Prince s arm 
 with one hand and pointing at the man with the other. 
 " Look ! " she repeated, and her fingers desperately 
 clutched his arm. 
 
 The man was Janos Feleki. 
 
 " Hush ! " whispered Jean Marie, forcing her back 
 into the corner of the carriage. 
 
 Feleki and Cavarodossi went up to the house. 
 
 Jean Marie quickly ordered the coachman to drive 
 them round several blocks and then return. 
 
 The Prince did not enter Gwendolyn s home for 
 nearly an hour, and when he was ushered into the 
 music-room, he abruptly paused on the threshold. 
 The room was lighted only by the large piano lamp, 
 and the guests were sitting round the piano, at the 
 side of which stood Janos Feleki, under the light, his 
 violin singing a strange, weird melody. The tones 
 
THE FLAME 43 
 
 rang out diabolical, mocking, with sudden bursts of 
 intense passion and tender appeal. It was all mys 
 terious, haunting, and Jean Marie felt an uncom 
 fortable sensation stealing over him. None of the 
 listeners moved until the last tone had died away, and 
 no one was conscious of Jean Marie s presence. 
 Cavarodossi had accompanied Feleki s first piece, 
 but this last one was for the violin alone, and 
 Cavarodossi sat on the piano stool, his elbows on the 
 keyboard and his head resting on his hands. The 
 tension was not broken until Feleki laid his violin on 
 the piano, and even then no one applauded, but all 
 drew a long, quivering breath. Feleki was very pale, 
 the muscles of his face slightly twitched and his hands 
 were trembling. 
 
 Jean Marie felt a strange nervousness in Feleki s 
 presence. There was something weird about the vio 
 linist, something not of this earth, and every one in 
 the little audience felt it. It was the far-seeing, in 
 tensely sensitive genius, incomprehensible to them all. 
 
 Jean Marie went forward, and the guests rose to 
 greet him. 
 
 " Your playing was most impressive, Monsieur 
 Feleki," he said, after he had bowed deeply over 
 Gwendolyn s hand. 
 
 Jean Marie found the same guests he had met at the 
 dinner five days before. 
 
 " I didn t know that music could stir me thus," said 
 Richard, giving Feleki a searching glance. 
 
 " You must do a great deal of practicing," said 
 Miss Morris. 
 
 " Three or four hours every day," answered Feleki, 
 
44 THEFLAME 
 
 " but it is not the practice that you, perhaps, under 
 stand. My violin and I are conversing. We tell 
 each other stories of things and places that exist only 
 in the imagination. Our world begins where the ma 
 terial world ends." 
 
 The violinist sank into a chair near the piano, and 
 Jean Marie sat by Gwendolyn. She looked very an 
 gelic to Cavarodossi, with her soft, clinging white 
 gown and her wealth of blonde curls. 
 
 " How old were you when you began to study 
 music? " asked Mr. Morris. 
 
 " Nine. My parents were very poor and the violin 
 was given to me by the man who owned the estate 
 on which my father worked." 
 
 "Did you complete your studies in Hungary?" 
 Cavarodossi inquired, leaning forward and eyeing 
 Feleki with interest. 
 
 " No. This same gentleman furnished me with 
 money to go to Paris, but it was a very limited bank 
 account." Feleki laughed and rested his head against 
 the back of his chair. A reminiscent look came into 
 his eyes, followed by a flash of pain. 
 
 " Did you live in the Latin Quarter of Paris with 
 the students and artists ? " asked Gwendolyn, her face 
 brightening. " Tell us something about your life." 
 
 "Yes, do! "they all urged. 
 
 Jean Marie alone was silent. He shrank back in 
 his chair, and his limbs stiffened as his muscles set 
 hard. 
 
 Feleki did not glance at him, but smiled at their 
 eagerness. 
 
 " The history of my life in the Latin Quarter and 
 
THE FLAME 45 
 
 of the interesting students I have met would fill a vol 
 ume. It is the most unique, the wildest, gayest life 
 imaginable." 
 
 " Is it true that they have cafes where you eat on 
 coffins ? " Gwendolyn asked with a little shudder. 
 
 Feleki laughed. " A cafe, Mademoiselle. That is 
 not the common custom! But for sweet little ladies 
 like you there is the cabaret of * Heaven, although I 
 doubt if the * angels * would be any more to your 
 liking than the chamber of death and the carabet of 
 * Hell, with Satan and his imps for waiters. The 
 c Cafe du Conservatoire, famous for the poets and 
 singers who visit it, was always interesting to me. It 
 is built like a church with the Gothic type of architec 
 ture. But the place I loved best of all was Cafe 
 Procope, founded over two hundred years ago, and 
 famous for the patronage of Voltaire, Rousseau, 
 Robespierre, Bonaparte, Madame Roland, and many 
 others famous in history. In the rear of the Cafe 
 is a little salon in which are a table and chair that 
 Voltaire used to occupy. That Cafe makes one live 
 in a past that is dead. But this is not in the Latin 
 Quarter; it is on Montmartre, where you find the 
 bizarre Bohemian life. The Latin Quarter is what is 
 dear to me, because it is not so brazen and outlandish. 
 The students are interested in one another, and the 
 goodfellowship is a joy to see." 
 
 " Are they really such bad people as they are pic 
 tured? " Gwendolyn s eyes were wide with question 
 ing innocence, and as Feleki looked into them, his 
 blood burned with indignation at Jean Marie s wooing 
 of such a pure young creature. The color rose in 
 
46 THEFLAME 
 
 his pale face as he turned his scathing eyes on the 
 Prince. Jean Marie met the gaze with cold defiance, 
 but when Feleki looked away, he pushed his chair 
 back a little farther, so that his face was half shaded 
 from the light. 
 
 " The students are not a virtuous lot," the violinist 
 said, slowly, glancing back to Gwendolyn, " yet there 
 is an honor amongst them that is sometimes defiled 
 by one who comes from the outer world." 
 
 Jean Marie nervously bit his lip, but he sat very 
 still, with his gaze riveted on the artist. 
 
 " I don t suppose their life is free from care," said 
 Mr. Rolfe. " I should think that it would be a hard, 
 struggling existence with a very pitiful side to it." 
 
 " It has a pitiful side, Mr. Rolfe, a side full of 
 grim tragedies that are sometimes unknown." 
 Feleki s hands moved nervously over the arms of his 
 chair, then gripped them with a sudden force. 
 
 " Can t you tell us a story of this inner life? " 
 asked Gwendolyn. " It would be interesting to hear 
 something that you yourself have known." 
 
 Her voice was soft and musical and her wondering, 
 trusting gaze made Feleki s blood again leap through 
 his veins. She was too lovely a flower to be crushed. 
 Anger and resentment flamed within him. She had 
 asked for a story that he had known. He would give 
 it to her. 
 
 Jean Marie sharply watched Feleki and held his 
 breath. 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, I can tell you something that 
 came into my own life." Feleki s voice quivered with 
 suppressed excitement. He paused, but did not take 
 
THEFLAME 47 
 
 his eyes from Gwendolyn. " I was twenty when I 
 went to Paris and began my life in the Latin Quar 
 ter. There lived in the house next to the one in which 
 I lodged, a woman with two daughters. The eldest, 
 who was eighteen, was the pet of all the students. 
 Her name was Diane Godin. The little family was 
 in the depths of poverty. Diane was a wonderful 
 girl, working to support her mother and her four 
 teen-year-old sister. She had an indomitable will; 
 for her, nothing was impossible. She was radiantly 
 beautiful, vivacious, restless, fond of the gay things 
 of life, yet withal, she was gentle and sweet and cher 
 ished noble ideals. She was gifted with a dramatic 
 voice and a perfect ear for music. Being eager for 
 applause, praise, adoration, she loved to sing, be 
 cause she knew that her voice was a power, ?,nd it was 
 power that she wanted, and with it wealth to satisfy 
 her desire for jewels and handsome clothes. Her 
 desire to hold sway over the hearts of men was 
 greater than her love for them. She was a good girl, 
 innocent of the world s badness. We became dear 
 friends and I loved her for her wild, untrained na 
 ture. With the proper guidance she would have 
 made a remarkable woman. She used to tell me her 
 inmost thoughts, and there was something Napoleonic 
 in her ambitions. She was fearlessly treading the 
 path of guiltless pleasure, little knowing there was a 
 viper concealed in the grass." 
 
 Feleki paused and for a moment pressed one hand 
 over his eyes. The long white fingers were trem 
 bling. 
 
 Jean Marie was breathing hard and not a muscle 
 
48 THEFLAME 
 
 in his body had relaxed. " The viper plunged its 
 poisonous fangs into her a year after I first met 
 her," Feleki went on. " A man from the outer world 
 of Paris came and lived in the house with her. He 
 was refined, educated, with an air of distinction. 
 All of us students believed him to be a nobleman or 
 a rich man s son, incognito. His eyes soon fell upon 
 Diane and the mystery surrounding him, the aristo 
 cratic birth that he betrayed, fascinated her, he was 
 so unlike the others, although he was living their 
 gay life without restraint. The world that she be 
 lieved he had come from was the goal she was striving 
 for, but for a time he would acknowledge nothing 
 and insisted that he was only a poor student, strug 
 gling to earn a meager living with his voice and his 
 drawing. At last, he confided to her that he was of 
 aristocratic birth and told her highly-colored stories 
 of the life that trouble had forced him to abandon, 
 but some day and, he believed, before long he 
 could return to his own sphere. He made ardent 
 love to her and fired her ambition with tales of the 
 luxurious life that would be hers if she would leave 
 the Latin. Quarter and go with him when the time 
 came. He told her of the magnificent cafes where 
 she could sing and become the idol of the Parisian 
 aristocrats, of the jewels and money that would be 
 flung at her feet, and he could place her in this 
 gilded position. All these stories inflamed her am 
 bitions, and she began to love him, not so much for 
 himself, I know, as for the life he could give her. 
 Oh, it was a dastardly trick that he served her and 
 her mother and sister ! " 
 
THE FLAME 49 
 
 Feleki s voice quivered. He dropped his head for 
 ward on his clasped hands and tears trembled on his 
 long lashes. 
 
 Jean Marie was ashen. A cold perspiration 
 dampened his forehead, but he did not move, nor take 
 his eyes from the violinist. 
 
 Feleki raised his head and went on: 
 
 " The man remained in the Latin Quarter a year, 
 and in that time he had made Diane a slave to his 
 romancing. She was ready to follow him wherever 
 he might take her. He induced her to run away with 
 him without even saying good-by to her mother, be 
 cause he feared that tears and entreaties would rob 
 him of the girl, and he loved her in his dissolute 
 way. How I reasoned and pleaded with her! But 
 to no avail. She went, leaving her sixteen-year-old 
 sister, to support herself and her mother. He had 
 dazzled Diane, hypnotized her, until she could see 
 only the life he was taking her to. Mother, sister, 
 friends were forgotten under the spell he had cast 
 over her. She went in a delirium ; he took her in 
 cold blood." 
 
 " The brute! " broke in Mr. Rolfe. 
 
 " How could a man be so despicable ! " exclaimed 
 Gwendolyn, her voice vibrant with indignation. 
 
 A quick gratitude shone in Feleki s face as he 
 turned from Gwendolyn to Jean Marie. The Prince 
 writhed under the glance and his eyes were burning 
 with rage. 
 
 " I didn t see her again for two years," Feleki 
 continued, with his unwavering gaze resting on Jean 
 Marie, " and during that time good fortune had 
 
50 THEFLAME 
 
 come to me. I was discovered by an influential man 
 and brought to the attention of a manager, who ar 
 ranged a concert tour for me. One night, after I 
 had given a concert in Paris, I strolled into a cafe 
 patronized by the aristocratic Bohemians, and found 
 a young woman gorgeously gowned and jeweled, 
 who, with her singing, was captivating her audience 
 and rousing their enthusiasm to a degree of noisy 
 demonstration. The woman was Diane. Emotion 
 suffocated me and I left the place before she had 
 finished her song. I waited in the street until she left 
 the place, radiant, triumphant. As she was about 
 to step into her carriage, I spoke to her. The glory 
 faded from her eyes and she gasped, c Janos ! in 
 a tone I ll never forget. She begged me not to see 
 her again, not to visit the cafe, not even to inquire 
 the name under which she was singing. She said 
 that the past was dead and gone. Shame was in 
 her eyes and I knew then that the good in her had 
 not perished. I did not see her again, nor did I 
 learn the true name of the scoundrel who had led her 
 on the path of ruin. That was the end." 
 
 Feleki said the last words in a low tone. Rising 
 quickly, he caught up his violin and began to walk 
 the floor, playing a wild, passionate melody. 
 
 No one moved. His story, his emotion, his ex 
 pressive vibrant voice, and now his music, held them 
 fascinated. Suddenly he halted before Gwendolyn. 
 
 " I have done as you asked, Mademoiselle, and 
 told you a story that I, myself, have known. It 
 proves to you that Diane had nothing to fear from 
 the students. It was the man from the outer world." 
 
THEFLAME 51 
 
 " He was horrible, horrible ! " repeated Gwen 
 dolyn, giving a little shudder of repulsion. " I ll 
 never forget this girl whom you have described so 
 vividly, nor the hateful man whom you have right 
 fully called a viper concealed in the grass. Your 
 story has been like a warning, and I thank you for 
 it." 
 
 Jean Marie flashed her a quick, startled glance. 
 She was looking before her with quiet, thoughtful 
 eyes. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 r II HE Prince was the first guest to leave Gwen- 
 A dolyn s home. He complained of being ill, and 
 his looks did not belie his words. Feleki s story 
 had unnerved him. The violinist s coming had 
 plunged him into a whirlpool, and a desperate strug 
 gle was necessary to keep from sinking. His woo 
 ing of Gwendolyn should have been more ardent and 
 decisive. He had wasted opportunities, but now it 
 would be safer not to press his suit until the vio 
 linist had left the city. 
 
 Jean Marie threw himself back into the corner of 
 his carriage that was taking him to the Fairmont, 
 and began to bite nervously at the end of an un- ( 
 lighted cigarette. His position had been made 
 doubly perilous by Camille s discovery that Janos 
 was in San Francisco. But did she know that he 
 was using another name on the concert stage? If 
 she did, she could easily locate him, because he was 
 living in the most prominent and central hotel in 
 the city. Should she in a moment of madness send 
 for him, what would be the result? 
 
 With sudden anger, Jean Marie flung his ciga 
 rette out the carriage window. He had seen things 
 this night at the Rolfe home that made him less con 
 fident of holding sway over Gwendolyn. Richard s 
 attitude towards him had seemed to lack the ac- 
 
THEFLAME 53 
 
 customed cordiality, and Gwendolyn had been some 
 what agitated by Jean Marie s presence, blushed 
 when his eyes rested upon her, and avoided his gaze. 
 Richard had been attentive to Cavarodossi, and the 
 Prince had caught several glances of sympathetic 
 understanding between them. Jean Marie felt him 
 self becoming an outsider, and his anger was hot 
 against Cavarodossi. He would immediately bring 
 the Italian under Camille s destructive spell. He 
 had no doubt of her power, and he knew that she 
 would exert herself to captivate Mario, yet the Prince 
 himself could not introduce Cavarodossi to her, not 
 only because that would rouse his suspicion of Jean 
 Marie, but because the Prince dared not betray any 
 thing more than a casual acquaintance with Ca- 
 mille. 
 
 By the time Jean Marie had reached his apart 
 ments in the Fairmont, he had decided to solicit the 
 help of Monsieur Dubois, an amiable little French 
 man, who was fond of Jean Marie and was greatly 
 impressed by his title. Monsieur Dubois was a mem 
 ber of several aristocratic clubs ; it was in one of 
 these that he had made Cavarodossi s acquaintance. 
 The Frenchman had many friends, but was not of 
 sufficient importance to have enemies. His simple- 
 mindedness would make him an excellent tool. 
 
 Jean Marie telephoned to the club where Dubois 
 usually spent his evenings, and finding him, asked 
 him to stop in on his way home and have a glass of 
 wine. Dubois was charmed by the Prince s atten 
 tion. 
 
 Jean Marie told Fra^ois to order several bottles 
 
54 THE FLAME 
 
 of rare wine and a box of expensive cigars, and more 
 deeply to impress Dubois with his wealth, the Prince 
 arrayed himself in his most elaborate dressing gown 
 of rich brown silk embroidered with gold and fas 
 tened round his waist with a gold cord and tassel. 
 Until his guest arrived, Jean Marie paced the floor, 
 with his hands clasped tightly behind his back and 
 his lips pressed firmly together. Defiance, despera 
 tion, revenge, glowed in his eyes, but his face quickly 
 cleared as he went forward to meet his caller. 
 
 Monsieur Dubois was a small, middle-aged man 
 and somewhat pudgy, with a skin like yellow wax. 
 His eyes were round and pale blue and his scantily 
 dispersed hair was carefully brushed and appeared 
 to be oiled. His mustache was small and had been 
 trained to lie flat to his face and was turned up at 
 the ends. There was deference in the bow he gave 
 the Prince. 
 
 " You are a stranger," Jean Marie said, after 
 they were seated. " We haven t met for three or 
 four weeks." 
 
 " I haven t called, because I did not wish to in 
 trude myself upon Your Highness." The little 
 Frenchman s voice was smooth and oily, and Jean 
 Marie realized more than ever before that his caller s 
 components were in harmony. 
 
 " You are always welcome," the Prince graciously 
 assured him. 
 
 Monsieur Dubois brightened, and settling back 
 in his chair, clasped his pudgy hands over his rather 
 expansive girth, and his unfailing smile became real 
 and benign. 
 
THEFLAME 55 
 
 " How have you been amusing yourself of late? " 
 the Prince asked, offering him a cigar. 
 
 " My life is unchanging. It is the clubs or the 
 theaters every evening and occasionally a reception 
 or a ball, both of which I heartily detest and would 
 never attend were it not for the pleasure of seeing 
 the charming ladies." 
 
 Jean Marie shook his finger at him. " The 
 ladies ! " he echoed, with a sly, significant smile. 
 " You always have been irresistible to the fair 
 sex." 
 
 Monsieur Dubois sat erect and preened himself, 
 but he raised a modest, protesting hand. 
 
 "Your Highness is jesting! It is your glance 
 that proves fatal to the stoutest feminine heart." 
 
 Jean Marie sank back in his chair and sighed. 
 " I only wish it were true ! " he murmured, thinking 
 of Gwendolyn s changed manner. 
 
 " Your Highness has only to recall your many 
 conquests to be satisfied that it is true." 
 
 Jean Marie gave him a sharp glance. ;4 Who has 
 told you of my conquests?" 
 
 " No one, but there must have been many." 
 
 Dubois s innocent, flattering smile reassured the 
 Prince. 
 
 " I sometimes wish I were home in Paris," the little 
 man went on. " I miss the gay life. There is no 
 variety here." 
 
 Jean Marie shook his head and sat for a moment 
 watching the smoke that rose in little spirals from 
 his cigarette. Presently he glanced up and said, 
 quietly : 
 
56 THEFLAME 
 
 " A Parisian novelty has recently arrived in San 
 Francisco." 
 
 "Really! What is it?" Dubois leaned forward 
 and eyed the Prince with interest. 
 
 " A woman, a ravishingly beautiful cafe singer." 
 
 " What is she doing here? I haven t heard of 
 her." 
 
 " She is searching for some of the much-talked-of 
 American gold. I knew her slightly in Paris, and 
 chance threw me in her path the other day." 
 
 If Monsieur Dubois surmised that Jean Marie 
 was concealing anything, his manner did not betray 
 it. 
 
 " You are fortunate to have found new diver 
 sion," he said, knocking his cigar ashes into a tray. 
 
 " Yes, and I suggest that we share it, and besides 
 have some amusement with a third person." 
 
 " I am at your service." Dubois was extremely 
 flattered by the Prince s gracious familiarity. 
 
 " Several nights ago I was at the Rolfe home and 
 we were speaking of the Bohemian life in Paris, and 
 Cavarodossi said that while he admires the French 
 women, he does not believe them to be the sirens they 
 are acclaimed, and insisted that no woman from 
 Bohemian Paris could fascinate him. We had quite 
 an amusing and animated discussion. Now, I want 
 him to be introduced to this cafe singer, so that I 
 can prove to him that I am right and he is wrong. 
 That our women are irresistible is a point on which 
 I am, perhaps, ridiculously persistent." 
 
 " Patriotism," Dubois said with a quiet smile. 
 " If you will introduce me to the lady, I will present 
 
THEFLAME 57 
 
 Cavarodossi and then he will not be aware of the little 
 trap set for him." 
 
 Jean Marie nodded. " You are a truly good fel 
 low, Dubois. We ll have great sport. It is quite 
 evident that Cavarodossi has not seen the world as 
 we have seen it." The Prince smiled significantly 
 and flashed a knowing glance at the little Frenchman 
 that was most complimentary to his attractiveness, 
 and he sat very erect, flustered with pride. 
 
 " I believe Your Highness and I have seen some 
 thing of life," he said, his voice vibrant with pom 
 posity. " No doubt Cavarodossi has much to learn. 
 How can we arrange a meeting? " 
 
 " To-morrow evening we ll dine with Mademoiselle 
 Dubray, and a night or two later you can call on 
 her with Cavarodossi. But mind you don t absorb 
 her attention so that she will not heed the handsome 
 Italian ! You are such a rogue ! " 
 
 Dubois fidgeted on his chair with delight. A faint 
 color rose under his waxy skin, and his pale blue eyes 
 grew very glossy and round. By the time he was 
 ready to leave, he had decided that Jean Marie was 
 the most charming man with whom he was acquainted, 
 and he was a willing tool, because he felt the honor 
 of possessing the friendship of the distinguished 
 Prince de Bourbon. 
 
 Two nights later Jean Marie sat in Camille s par 
 lor awaiting the arrival of Dubois and Cavarodossi. 
 
 " Where did you meet that slippery eel? " Camille 
 suddenly asked, resting amused yet scornful eyes on 
 Jean Marie. 
 
58 THEFLAME 
 
 " Monsieur Dubois ? " 
 
 " Yes. He positively oozes oil. I ve never en 
 countered such a creature." 
 
 " He doesn t exactly resemble an eel," returned 
 Jean Marie. " I think in width he is more like the 
 trigger fish. But don t despise him. He has a snug 
 little bank account and I could see last night at dinner 
 that he is going to adore you." 
 
 " Pardieu ! " she exclaimed, throwing out her arms 
 with disgust. " Could anything be more abomina 
 ble! I warn you, Jean, if he makes love to me, I ll 
 have him thrown into the street." 
 
 " Camille, my dear, remember that he is going to 
 bring Cavarodossi. And you have been, unusually 
 keen on this subject." Jean Marie spoke in a sar 
 castic, yet jealous tone. 
 
 " I believe you are the cause of his bringing Cav 
 arodossi here." 
 
 The Prince did not glance at her, but he felt the 
 glitter of the black diamond eyes. 
 
 " You know that Dubois himself proposed this call 
 to-night, and you know, also, that this meeting with 
 Cavarodossi is not to my liking." Jean Marie s 
 tone was curt, and he rose and began to walk the 
 floor. 
 
 For a time, Camille watched him furtively, but as 
 he passed her again, she caught his coat and held him 
 fast. 
 
 " Kiss me, Jean ! Don t be silly ! " She puckered 
 her lips and raised her head. 
 
 He looked down into her eyes and they drew him 
 
THEFLAME 59 
 
 to her. Dropping on his knees, he folded her in his 
 arms. 
 
 " You can always make a fool of me ! " 
 
 " I love you ! " she whispered in his ear with an 
 ardent thrill in her voice. " There is no one so 
 sweet as you ! " She stroked his hair and he rested 
 his head against her shoulder. Presently she said 
 very calmly, after glancing at the clock : " You had 
 better not stay on your knees any longer, Jean. 
 You ll lose the crease in your trousers, and Cavaro- 
 dossi might come." 
 
 He rose, impatiently. " How can you turn so 
 suddenly from fire to ice. Isn t there any true love in 
 your heart ? " 
 
 She closed her eyes, and, for a moment, her face 
 was grave. 
 
 " You haven t told me yet about your meeting 
 with Janos," she slowly said. " What did he do and 
 say?" 
 
 Jean Marie s blood beat hard at his temples, and 
 his voice was strained and hoarse, as he asked : 
 
 " Do you love him, Camille ? " 
 
 " He loved me once, before She covered her 
 face with her hands. 
 
 Jean Marie blanched and his eyes blazed danger 
 ously as he glared down upon her. It was some time 
 before he said with an effort: 
 
 " You are growing sentimental." 
 
 With a quick laugh, she glanced up. The look in 
 his face startled her. 
 
 " What has Janos done to you ? " she asked. 
 
60 THEFLAME 
 
 He whirled off . " Nothing ! " he harshly retorted, 
 " and there is nothing he can do." 
 
 " Are you keeping anything from me? " 
 
 " No. Janos and I met as strangers." 
 
 A knock fell upon the door. Camille s maid came 
 from the bedroom and answered it. Cavarodossi and 
 Dubois entered, but Mario abruptly paused on the 
 threshold and looked round him. He was aware 
 that he had stepped into a sphere very different from 
 his own. The air was warm and heavy with the 
 perfume of flowers and stale cigarette smoke. The 
 room was furnished gaudily in red and white, and 
 was decidedly suggestive of the stage life. He felt 
 as though he had entered a ballerina s dressing-room, 
 although he never had been in one. There was no 
 precision, no regularity. The furniture looked as 
 though it had been carelessly tossed into place. The 
 atmosphere was saturated with abandonment, but 
 foremost in the almost barbaric brilliancy and beauty 
 was the woman whose surroundings typified her char 
 acter. 
 
 Camille was gowned in scarlet chiffon that clung 
 tightly to her supple figure. The bodice was cut 
 extremely low and was sleeveless. A band of bril 
 liants encircled her hair, which was coiled high on 
 her head. 
 
 Cavarodossi cast a questioning glance at the 
 Prince, who appeared unobserving. 
 
 Camille s alert intuitiveness told her that her life 
 was strange to Cavarodossi, and she greeted him 
 with gracious dignity. She knew he was beyond her 
 reach, but the satisfaction of a difficult conquest 
 
THEFLAME 61 
 
 tempted her to draw him as near to her as she 
 could. 
 
 Jean Marie did not have Camille s fine understand 
 ing, and he wondered with amusement how long the 
 singer would be breaking down the barrier that sep 
 arated her from the Italian. 
 
 " I am adding another cavalier to Mademoiselle s 
 train," said Dubois, after he had imprinted a some 
 what noisy kiss on Camille s hand. " A few nights 
 ago I presented the Prince de Bourbon, and you see, 
 he is here again ! " he added, turning to Cavarodossi. 
 " Beware ! You know how it is with the moth and 
 the flame! Mademoiselle s charms cannot be with 
 stood." 
 
 " I ll not be so unwise as to attempt resistance," 
 Cavarodossi returned with a courtly bow. 
 
 Camille motioned for him to sit beside her on the 
 divan. Dubois sat nearby and Jean Marie stood 
 leaning against the mantel, slyly watching Camille 
 and Cavarodossi. He was a little amazed and dis 
 appointed at Mario s meeting with Camille. He had 
 believed that the Italian would be deeply stirred by 
 her vivacious beauty and daring costume, but he had 
 shown nothing more than subdued surprise. 
 
 " Monsieur Dubois tells me that you are a singer 
 from the cafes of Paris," Mario said thoughtfully 
 studying her. 
 
 " Yes." She slowly waved her red feather fan, 
 and, raising her head, drooped her eyelids to look at 
 him. 
 
 " Mademoiselle has no rival in her field." Du- 
 bois s colorless lips curved a suave, flattering smile, 
 
62 THEFLAME 
 
 while his round, pale eyes beamed coquettishly upon 
 Camille. 
 
 Cavarodossi was amused. " I hope you will sing 
 for us later," he said, and cast a glance at Jean 
 Marie, wondering why he was so quiet. 
 
 The Prince caught the glance and quickly spoke. 
 
 " You have some new paintings, Mademoiselle. 
 What do you think of this one, Dubois? He is an 
 excellent critic," he added, turning to Camille. 
 
 She flashed the little Frenchman an admiring 
 glance. 
 
 " The Prince exaggerates." He pompously 
 cleared his throat, and, rising, went and stood be 
 side Jean Marie, who was at the farther end of the 
 room, manifesting an absorbing interest in the paint 
 ings. He and Dubois began discussing the works 
 of art, apparently forgetful of all else. 
 
 "Do you sing? " Camille asked Cavarodossi, rest 
 ing upon him a gaze that was suddenly languorous 
 and intense. 
 
 " Yes, a little." 
 
 She smiled, and her eyes slowly brightened with 
 admiration. " I knew it," she said, softly. " I felt 
 the kindred soul when we met. Perhaps we can sing 
 together sometimes here in my rooms." She leaned 
 closer to him, but Cavarodossi was not easily intoxi 
 cated by her perfumed hair and languishing smiles. 
 
 " It would be a great pleasure as well as a rare 
 privilege," he said, and began to study her with in 
 creasing interest. He could see the fire lurking be 
 hind her eyes, the danger of her sensuous lips, the 
 vanity vibrating through her at every breath, and the 
 
THEFLAME 63 
 
 sureness of power in her every move. Feleki s story 
 came again to his mind, and he believed that Diane 
 was such a glowing, dominant woman. He won 
 dered how the singer would impress the violinist. He 
 could bring him to her rooms some night and see. 
 
 " Do you know Monsieur Feleki, the violinist ? " 
 he asked. " He gave three concerts here about a 
 month ago." 
 
 " No, but I have heard of him. He played several 
 times in Paris one season, but I didn t see him." 
 Camille was not interested. " It will be splendid for 
 us to sing duets together. Is your voice tenor or 
 baritone? " 
 
 " Tenor." 
 
 " How fortunate ! Mine is soprano. We ll be 
 good friends." She lightly pressed his hand. " We 
 can have some enjoyable evenings, especially if you 
 know any musicians." 
 
 " Yes, I know some good artists." 
 
 " Then our success is assured." She gave him a 
 quick glance and lowered her voice. " I have been 
 told that there is a clever violinist visiting here by 
 the name of Zrinyi. Do you know him? " 
 
 "Zrinyi?" Cavarodossi thoughtfully repeated. 
 " No, I ve never heard of him." 
 
 Camille s gaze sharpened and she looked search- 
 ingly into his face, but was disappointed. Her eyes 
 turned slowly, wonderingly, and rested on the Prince, 
 who was still discussing art with Dubois. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 JEAN MARIE invited Cavarodossi, Dubois and 
 Camille to dine with him at the Fairmont the night 
 after their meeting in Camille s hotel. The Prince 
 was not satisfied with the impression that the singer 
 had made on Cavarodossi. He had not been stirred 
 by her beauty, her vivacity, nor her languishing 
 glances, only her passionate, dramatic voice had af 
 fected him when she had sung a chanson that had 
 given her fame in the cafes, and later an operatic 
 aria rendered with an accuracy and brilliancy that 
 had revealed the true artist. Jean Marie wondered 
 if Cavarodossi was susceptible to the charm of music 
 only. Yet there had been moments in which he had 
 seen something stronger than admiration in Cavaro- 
 dossi s eyes when he had looked at Gwendolyn. Was 
 it possible that a child-woman could fascinate the 
 Italian and that a radiant, handsome creature like 
 Camille could not? Jean Marie arrived at the con 
 clusion that Cavarodossi was either a fool, a prig, 
 or an exceedingly clever actor, but he believed that 
 Camille before long would be able to ascertain which 
 of the three he really was. He thought that the 
 prig would be more to Richard Rolfe s liking, so 
 he determined to kill this virtue in Mario. He never 
 had been able to distinguish the difference between 
 morality and priggishness. 
 
 64 
 
THEFLAME 65 
 
 The Prince had ordered an elaborate dinner and 
 had had his rooms decorated with red roses. He 
 was very well pleased with everything as he stood 
 in his reception-room, looking round with a critical 
 eye. Certainly Cavarodossi could not believe him 
 a titled fortune-hunter in America. As Mr. Morris 
 had said, the atmosphere surrounding the Prince was 
 charged with wealth, but Jean Marie felt most un 
 comfortable when he thought how rapidly his capital 
 was vanishing. He must again use all of his arts 
 on Gwendolyn without too boldly declaring his love. 
 The scourge that Feleki held over him was more to 
 be feared than Cavarodossi being his rival. 
 
 The telephone bell rang and Fra^ois answered 
 it. A gentleman wished to know if the Prince de 
 Bourbon would be in his apartments this evening. 
 
 " Who is he? " His Highness asked with a sudden 
 frown. 
 
 " Mr. Walsh," Fra^ois said, after speaking again 
 to the man. 
 
 " The Devil ! " Jean Marie angrily snapped his 
 fingers. " Tell him to come to-morrow." Gloom 
 and uneasiness wilted the debonair light in his eyes. 
 " What did he say? " he asked Fra^ois, as the latter 
 hung up the receiver. 
 
 " He didn t tell me whether he would come to 
 morrow. The line was either disconnected by cen 
 tral or by the gentleman himself." The valet saw 
 that the Prince was perturbed and he went into the 
 " study," where the dinner table was set. 
 
 " Fran9ois ! " Jean Marie sharply called, and the 
 servant reappeared. " This room would be very 
 
66 T H E F L A M E 
 
 ordinary without these paintings, wouldn t it? " He 
 swept the walls with a wave of his hand. 
 
 Fran9ois gravely looked round. One painting 
 was a romantic, sylvan landscape, another was a 
 beautiful Grecian dancing girl, and two others 
 were small paintings of picturesque France. 
 
 " The loss of them certainly would rob the room 
 of the greater part of its elegance," the valet slowly 
 answered. 
 
 Jean Marie nodded and Fra^ois went back into 
 the " study." 
 
 Going into his bedroom, the Prince drank a glass 
 of absinthe to quell the riot of his nerves. He had 
 felt apprehensive for several days and now he be 
 lieved that it had not been without cause. Mr. 
 Walsh was the last man he cared to see, especially 
 at this very critical time when his winning of Gwen 
 dolyn seemed somewhat uncertain. 
 
 Cavarodossi was the first to arrive, and Jean Marie 
 cordially greeted him. He had asked Dubois to be 
 Camille s escort, because he had surmised that if 
 that honor was conferred upon the Italian, he would 
 gracefully decline the invitation to dinner. 
 
 " This is the first time you have called on me," 
 Jean Marie said, as Franois took Cavarodossi s hat 
 and overcoat. 
 
 Mario smiled. " If I am not mistaken, this is 
 the first invitation I have had to call." An ambig 
 uous look was in his eyes as they rested quietly on 
 Jean Marie. It was curiosity that had brought 
 him now, 
 
T H E F L A M E 67 
 
 " No ! " the Prince quickly interrupted with as 
 sumed surprise. " That cannot be ! " 
 
 Yes, it is. I always have imagined that you 
 have not a very friendly feeling for me, and I often 
 have wondered why." 
 
 Jean Marie was annoyed at the Italian s frank 
 ness and thought him decidedly disagreeable, but he 
 said, affably: 
 
 " You unfortunately have misunderstood me, and 
 in the future we must be more intimate. I hold you 
 in the highest esteem." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 Jean Marie noticed that Cavarodossi did not re 
 turn the compliment. 
 
 Francois answered a knock on the door, and Ca- 
 mille and Dubois entered. 
 
 " I arrive with Madame my wife ! " Dubois jubi 
 lantly exclaimed, pointing to Camille with a flour 
 ishing wave of the hand and bowing deeply. His 
 cheeks were very rosy and his eyes shone with pride. 
 
 " He is a terrible man," laughed Camille, going 
 toward Cavarodossi, " and he flirts with me most 
 disgracefully." 
 
 " You are radiant and beautiful, Mademoiselle," 
 said Jean Marie, giving Dubois a sly nudge. " You 
 seem happy in each other s company." 
 
 Dubois drew his coat together with a self-satisfied 
 jerk and beamed upon Camille, who was shaking 
 hands with Cavarodossi. 
 
 " Every one we pas-sed in the corridors looked at 
 Mademoiselle with admiration and at me with envy," 
 
68 THEFLAME 
 
 the little Frenchman said, giving his mustache a 
 twist so that the ends stood up very straight. 
 " Mademoiselle will make me the lion of the hour." 
 
 " Don t listen to him," laughed Camilla. " He is 
 an inveterate flatterer." She looked up into Cavaro- 
 dossi s eyes, and smiled, as she turned for him to 
 assist her with her pale blue Italian military cape. 
 " You see," she said, softly, her voice full of mean 
 ing, " Italy has enveloped the whole of me. Even 
 this gown I am wearing is made of Italian silk." 
 
 Cavarodossi glanced at her close-fitting blue dress 
 and said, courteously, " Italy should be proud of her 
 adorer." 
 
 Camille s eyelids drooped a little as she glanced 
 at Mario and smiled. She had cast several quick 
 looks at Jean Marie and understood that something 
 had annoyed him before her coming. The Prince 
 was laughing and jesting with Dubois, but Camille 
 knew his countenance as well as she knew his life. 
 
 Fran9ois announced dinner. Before they took 
 their seats round the table, Camille went to the farther 
 end of the room and examined a landscape sketch. 
 
 " What place is this ? " she asked, turning to Jean 
 Marie. 
 
 He went towards her, and Dubois, believing that 
 she wished to speak with the Prince alone, began to 
 converse very jovially with Cavarodossi. 
 
 " That trigger fish has some intelligence," Camille 
 said in an undertone to Jean Marie. "What has 
 annoyed you ? " 
 
 " Nothing." He did not look into her eyes. 
 
 " Yes, there is something. Tell me, Jean." 
 
THEFLAME 69 
 
 He hesitated, then said with assumed carelessness 
 that did not deceive Camille : " A man was coming 
 here to-night to demand payment for my paintings 
 which amounts to almost two thousand dollars, but 
 I have put him off until to-morrow, that is, I think 
 I have, if he doesn t burst in upon us. Americans 
 are persistent and boisterous where money is con 
 cerned. They are never willing to await a debtor s 
 pleasure." 
 
 At the table, decorated with red roses and smilax, 
 Camille sat between Cavarodossi and Dubois. 
 
 " Do you intend to sing in any of the cafes here? " 
 Mario asked her. 
 
 4 Yes, if I can find one that will pay me well, but 
 so far, I have found nothing alluring in the prices 
 they offer. The cafes here in San Francisco are not 
 as profitable to a singer as they are in Paris. I am 
 told that the patrons here rarely or never send an 
 artist money with a request that she render the song 
 they desire. One must depend entirely upon the 
 salary paid by the management. In Paris money and 
 even jewels were sent to me with requests for songs. 
 The people in San Francisco are either not devotees 
 of art, or they are not reckless Bohemians like the 
 Parisians." 
 
 " The San Franciscans are very liberal with 
 money," said Cavarodossi, " but their customs are 
 different. They are appreciative, but reserved, and 
 they have but little of the impulsive enthusiasm that 
 characterizes us of the Latin blood. And they are 
 devotees of art, I believe, because in Italy the two 
 cities in the United States best known to the opera 
 
70 THEFLAME 
 
 singers are New York and San Francisco. All of 
 the singers who return home after a season here are 
 enthusiastic over the reception they received in this 
 far-away city." 
 
 " You revive my hope," said Camille. " I haven t 
 been here long enough to understand the people. 
 Perhaps I ll find more approval and appreciation 
 than I believed." 
 
 " There is no doubt of it," Mario returned. " The 
 Italians love this place next to their own Italy. You 
 see, I am content, after leaving the beauties and 
 grandeur of ancient Rome, to live in this city that is 
 being rebuilt." 
 
 " Perhaps it is something more than the energetic 
 city that attracts you," Camille remarked, with a 
 sly, suggestive glance. 
 
 Mario reddened and became occupied with the 
 chicken Fra^ois had served him. 
 
 " You have struck a responsive chord," Dubois 
 said, casting a furtive, amused look at Camille. " I 
 have been expecting an interesting announcement for 
 some time." 
 
 " May we congratulate you ? " asked Jean Marie, 
 forcing a smile. 
 
 Cavarodossi shot him a glance and his eyes kin 
 dled. 
 
 " No," he quietly returned. " I don t know of 
 any lady who has honored me with her love." 
 
 " There is a shade of sadness in your voice." 
 Camille s tone was sympathetic, but a quick glance 
 of taunting sarcasm sharpened her eyes. " You 
 speak as though you were as ill-favored as Cyrano 
 
THEFLAME 71 
 
 de Bergerac, who could express his passion for 
 Roxane only by writing love letters to her for another 
 and a fairer man." 
 
 " You have misunderstood me, Mademoiselle." 
 Cavarodossi raised his head and looked Camille full 
 in the eyes. " I do not boast of good looks, but I 
 do say that if a woman cares for me, I want it to be 
 because she is intelligent enough to love me for what 
 ever mental faculties I may possess, not because she 
 is attracted by physical form." 
 
 Camille s expressive lips curved in an arch smile. 
 
 " Are you an idealist ? " she asked. 
 
 " No. I am a soul-worshiper, and that has noth 
 ing to do with physical perfection. But I am not 
 blind to beauty." 
 
 His tone sounded to Camille like a warning that 
 her beauty could not intoxicate him. Her eyes 
 rested quietly upon Mario, but the warning fired her 
 determination to enslave him. 
 
 " I think we should try to find an agreeable as 
 well as profitable engagement for Mademoiselle," said 
 Jean Marie, not liking the turn that the conversation 
 had taken. 
 
 " Wouldn t it be possible for Mademoiselle to make 
 a business of singing in private homes at receptions 
 and evening entertainments?" suggested Dubois. 
 " It would be a novelty that would become popular, 
 I am sure." 
 
 Camille brightened and a cunning little smile 
 gleamed in her eyes. She looked at Jean Marie with 
 amused triumph, but when she turned to Dubois, her 
 eyes were mild. 
 
72 THEFLAME 
 
 " That is a good idea," she said, speculatively. 
 " I believe there would be money in it. If I could 
 sing for the first time in a home that has social 
 prestige, I am certain that my future would be as 
 sured." 
 
 " Undoubtedly," agreed Dubois, beginning to feel 
 the importance of his social position. " I promise 
 that something will be arranged." 
 
 Camille looked at the little Frenchman and asked 
 very calmly : " Isn t there a wealthy family here 
 named Rolfe? " 
 
 " Yes," Dubois answered, sitting erect and feeling 
 his importance. " I am a friend of Mr. Richard 
 Rolfe s. I ll speak to him about you. His High 
 ness and Signor Cavarodossi also can say a word in 
 your behalf." 
 
 Jean Marie sat rigid and coldly smiled, but his 
 eyes were burning. 
 
 Cavarodossi glanced from the Prince to Camille 
 and wondered what the secret was between them. He 
 had seen them together in "II Fior d ltalia " and 
 was convinced by the familiar looks they were con 
 stantly exchanging that their acquaintance was of no 
 recent date. 
 
 " My services are at Mademoiselle s disposal," 
 Mario politely said. 
 
 After dinner the guests sat in lounging chairs in 
 the " study," smoking. 
 
 Eran9ois entered. 
 
 " There is a gentleman at the door who wishes to 
 speak with Your Highness." 
 
 Jean Marie paled, but carelessly asked who the man 
 
THE FLAME 73 
 
 was. The valet said that the caller did not give his 
 name. 
 
 The Prince glanced into the reception-room and 
 saw Mr. Walsh, who had entered after Fra^ois had 
 left the door. 
 
 " If you will pardon me, I ll return in a moment," 
 the Prince said to his guests. 
 
 Camille alone understood that something was 
 wrong. She could see into the reception-room and 
 recognized Mr. Walsh. 
 
 Jean Marie went out and closed the door behind 
 him. Fra^ois disappeared into the bedroom. 
 
 " Good evening," said Mr. Walsh, coming forward 
 with a gracious bow. 
 
 " Good evening." Jean Marie sharply studied his 
 caller. 
 
 Mr. Walsh was slender, almost emaciated, with 
 slightly drooping shoulders. His face was peaked 
 and weasel-like, but the small gray eyes that looked 
 out from under the shaggy brows were as sharp and 
 alert as a hawk s. He was carefully dressed in a 
 frock suit. 
 
 " I trust I have not disturbed you," he said. 
 
 " I have company at dinner. My valet asked you 
 over the telephone kindly to defer your visit until to 
 morrow." Jean Marie spoke none too graciously. 
 A creditor was the most provoking element with which 
 he could come in contact. 
 
 " I am sorry. The line was disconnected." 
 
 Jean Marie was on the verge of speaking his mind, 
 but restrained himself. 
 
 " I have come to ask if Your Highness will kindly 
 
74 THEFLAME 
 
 settle the bill that our firm has standing against you 
 for the paintings which you have here." Mr. Walsh 
 pointed to the four pictures. 
 
 " I regret that I cannot pay at present, and be 
 lieved you would understand when I did not answer 
 the bills that you have repeatedly sent me." Jean 
 Marie felt the insult of an American tradesman de 
 manding money from a French nobleman. How little 
 Americans knew of etiquette ! 
 
 " Can you favor us with a partial payment ? " 
 Mr. Walsh s eyes were growing sharp. 
 
 " No, not at present." 
 
 " Your Highness will kindly remember that this 
 debt was contracted nearly seven months ago. I 
 think that we have been extremely patient, and 
 we regret that even now we are obliged to harass 
 you." 
 
 " I appreciate your lenity," returned Jean Marie 
 with a tinge of sarcasm, " but I have no ready money 
 now." 
 
 " Can Your Highness give me a date when a com 
 plete or partial payment can be made? " 
 
 Jean Marie was becoming thoroughly exasperated. 
 " No, I cannot." 
 
 " Then my firm has requested me to say that the 
 paintings must be reclaimed." 
 
 Jean Marie s eyes burned the man through and 
 his muscles relaxed only when he heard Cavarodossi 
 strike some chords on the piano in the " study " and 
 begin a Beethoven sonata. The loss of the paintings 
 would rob the room of the greater part of its ele 
 gance, as Fran9ois had said. The friends who often 
 
THEFLAME 75 
 
 called on the Prince would know that he had either 
 sold the pictures to raise money or that they had 
 been seized for debt. His rage was near bursting 
 into flame, when the door quietly opened and Camille 
 entered. The Prince swung round and a startled 
 exclamation slipped from his lips. Mr. Walsh eyed 
 the two with surprise and curiosity. 
 
 " Pardon me," Camille said, after closing the 
 " study " door behind her. " I think I met you some 
 days ago in your art store, Mr. Walsh, when I bought 
 three small paintings." 
 
 The man bowed. " I remember you, Madam." 
 
 The color fled from Jean Marie s face. 
 
 Camille ignored him, and looking at Mr. Walsh 
 with her calm superiority, said : 
 
 " His Highness and I have been great friends for 
 many years, and he has told me of the debt which 
 he has, unfortunately, been unable to pay. I am be 
 holden to His Highness for many favors and owe 
 him quite a large sum of money." She turned to 
 the Prince, and her mobile countenance expressed 
 nothing but the purest friendship and distress felt 
 for a friend in need. " I beg, Jean, that you accept 
 two thousand dollars on the amount I owe you." 
 
 " No ! " he burst forth. 
 
 " Yes," she insisted with a sweet appeal in her 
 voice. " One would think that I am offering you 
 money that is not already your own by rights." 
 She laughed softly, caressingly. 
 
 Jean Marie caught the hint. If he protested 
 against accepting the money, it would prove that 
 Camille did not owe him anything. The wisest 
 
76 THEFLAME 
 
 course would be to follow as she led. She held his 
 fate in her hand. 
 
 " You are very kind to assist me out of this little 
 dilemma," he said with forced pleasure and grati 
 tude. " My money is tied up in speculations, but 
 no doubt I ll be overburdened with American gold 
 before long." His light laugh was unsteady. 
 
 Mr. Walsh stood quietly studying Camille, but 
 his face was a mask. Jean Marie felt like thrashing 
 him. 
 
 " I am glad that I can be of assistance to you," 
 Camille earnestly said, and turning to the creditor 
 added : " His Highness can pay you to-morrow." 
 
 Mr. Walsh bowed. " Thank you," in a calm tone 
 that was worse to Jean than a blow. " Then I may 
 expect Your Highness ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " It was harsh and gruff. 
 
 Mr. Walsh s hawk eyes rested upon the Prince for 
 a moment, then the shadow of a smile flitted across 
 his face and he bowed again and repeated : " Thank 
 you. I ll not disturb you any longer." He cast a 
 last piercing look at Camille, and walked from the 
 room with short, quick steps and closed the door. 
 
 Jean Marie gave a gasp of liberation, but hot 
 blood was surging through him. 
 
 " What have you done this for ! " he demanded. 
 
 Camille surveyed him with surprise. 
 
 " To help you, of course ! Did you want the fel 
 low to sue you and prove to the public that you are 
 bankrupt ? " 
 
 " You could have offered me this assistance to 
 morrow when we shall be alone. Why did you sub- 
 
THEFLAME 77 
 
 mit me to humiliation? " He sank into a chair and 
 pressed his hand against his forehead. 
 
 Camille sprang forward and threw her arms about 
 him. 
 
 " Forgive me, Jean ! It was reckless, but I did it 
 to help you." 
 
 Jean Marie thrust her from him. He knew why 
 she had done it. " Leave me alone ! " he growled. 
 " Go back in there with the others." 
 
 Camille looked down upon him and the grief and 
 pleading died in her eyes. From her full, arched 
 lips sprang taunting arrows of triumph that pierced 
 him through, but he did not turn towards her. With 
 a slow, regal step, she swept back to the " study " 
 door, and without casting another glance at Jean 
 Marie, opened it and entered the room. 
 
 Cavarodossi was finishing the Beethoven sonata. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 RICHARD ROLFE gave a grunt of disgust, and 
 lowering his newspaper looked over the top of it 
 at Gwendolyn, who was picking some withered blos 
 soms from the potted plants in the conservatory. 
 She was fond of gardening and took pride in her rare, 
 beautiful flowers. 
 
 " What is it? " she asked, glancing up. 
 
 " Another international marriage that has proved 
 a fiasco ! One more honored American name to be 
 dragged through the divorce courts ! " 
 
 Gwendolyn reddened consciously. " How unfortu 
 nate!" 
 
 " It is, indeed ! " Richard sanctioned, laying his 
 paper on his knee and resting penetrating eyes on his 
 sister. " I wonder how many years it will take to 
 cure American girls of this title-hunting fever. I 
 should think that there had been failures enough for 
 them to understand the dangers of such a venture. 
 It is disgusting ! " 
 
 Gwendolyn bent lower over the flowers and did not 
 answer at once. A deep color dyed her cheeks and 
 her throat, which was revealed by her white morning- 
 gown, cut V shape. 
 
 " Then you believe that only the American men 
 make good husbands ? " she presently asked. 
 
 " No, I m not so conceited. I know that Europe 
 78 
 
THEFLAME 79 
 
 has just as fine men as we have here in the United 
 States, and I am not speaking of the true aristocrats 
 nor of the middle class; I am referring to the 
 * noble fortune-seekers, who come to this country 
 with nothing to offer but titles and battered char 
 acters. A nobleman is all right if he is clean and 
 has done something to prove himself a man, but the 
 majority of them are a dubious set, because they 
 have things too much their own way, and their titles 
 cover a multitude of sins. A foreigner like Cava- 
 rodossi is worth something, he is intelligent, sub 
 stantial, and, above all, clean. I like him, and the 
 girl who marries him is going to get a prize." 
 
 Richard gave his sister a sharp look which she did 
 not raise her head to see. It pleased him when she 
 said, earnestly: 
 
 " He is an estimable man." 
 
 " There is a vast difference between him and Bour 
 bon." Richard spoke slowly and did not take his 
 eyes from Gwendolyn. " That Frenchman makes 
 me fidgety. He is always bowing, and playing the 
 cavalier to some woman. I think his bait is thrown 
 out to catch the largest available fortune. I don t 
 believe there is a legitimate dollar back of him." 
 
 Gwendolyn jerked off a flower rather impatiently. 
 " He has a very aristocratic manner and appears 
 to have been brought up in affluence," she pro 
 tested. 
 
 " Fine feathers don t make fine birds," Richard 
 quietly remarked, " and he seems to be all feathers 
 and no bird. I ll wager he hasn t money enough 
 to keep a wife and family, for all he is so dainty 
 
80 THE FLAME 
 
 and elegant. I always think of him as a Claude 
 Melnotte." 
 
 Gwendolyn glanced up with startled eyes. " Surely 
 you don t doubt his title ! " 
 
 " No, but I do doubt his castles and his wealth." 
 
 " I don t." 
 
 " You mustn t place too much faith in him, Gwen. 
 I have seen more of the world and of the different 
 types of men than you have, and it doesn t take me 
 long to spot a dead beat, if you will pardon the 
 expression." 
 
 Gwendolyn was shocked, not at Richard s manner 
 of expression, because he had a forcible and inele 
 gant way of speaking when he was aroused, but at his 
 opinion of the Prince. 
 
 " You shouldn t say such an unkind thing ! " she 
 exclaimed, turning towards him with unusual anima 
 tion. 
 
 " I m not talking for the public," he retorted. 
 " This is between ourselves. The next time he comes, 
 ask him to tell you about his ancient castle and see if 
 he doesn t imitate Claude Melnotte describing his 
 phantom home, 
 
 A deep vale 
 
 Shut out by Alpine hills from the rude world, 
 Near a clear lake, margined by fruits of gold 
 And whispering myrtles ; glassing softest skies 
 As cloudless, save with rare and roseate shadows, 
 As I would have thy fate ! * " 
 
 Richard laughed. " That is pretty good for a 
 hard-fisted old banker, isn t it? My tutor made me 
 
THE FLAME 81 
 
 memorize that when I was a youngster, but I have 
 forgotten the rest of it. I believe he was struggling 
 to awaken the enthusiasm of the poet and the lover 
 in me ! But you untie the Prince s tongue. He will 
 be more eloquent and actorlike. I m not much on 
 poetry." 
 
 Gwendolyn was growing angry. " No," she said, 
 " you understand only the poetry of the dollar sign." 
 
 Richard laughed good-naturedly. " I notice that 
 it is a poem in which the Europeans are keenly inter 
 ested." 
 
 Sarcasm played around Gwendolyn s mouth as she 
 turned to Richard, and asked: 
 
 " Are they any keener than our men ? " 
 
 He shrugged. " Perhaps not, but our men are 
 willing to earn the dollar." 
 
 Gwendolyn impatiently flung a handful of flowers 
 into the little basket beside her. 
 
 " Do you think that the Europeans don t work as 
 hard as we? " she asked in a poignant tone. 
 
 " I have told you, Gwen, that I am referring only 
 to the fortune-hunters, those who are trying to en 
 snare our heiresses. Tell me what it is in these con 
 scienceless foreigners that you girls find so alluring." 
 
 Gwendolyn whirled round and stood erect, drawn 
 up to her utmost height. A deep color was slowly 
 dyeing her cheeks, and the pupils of her eyes dilated 
 until the iris was curtained over. 
 
 " I wish I could tell not only you, but all the 
 American men, why it is that we find these foreigners 
 so attractive. It is not the mere title that fascinates, 
 although that may be what attracts some girls, 
 
82 THEFLAME 
 
 but it is the poetry in their natures, the romance, the 
 love of music, of the fine arts; it is their intimate 
 understanding of all that is beautiful and inspiring 
 in life. They have a refinement, a polish ; they un 
 derstand the emotional femininity in women, and they 
 know how to please. They believe it a duty, and 
 find it a pleasure to give life the little touches of senti 
 ment and gallantry which make us remember that the 
 romance of the Middle Ages is not dead. They know 
 how to form the sweet little phrases that mean noth 
 ing, yet everything. With the European, especially 
 the Latin, love comes before all else. But the Amer 
 ican man ! Tell me, Richard, if amongst all the 
 wealthy men you know there is one who would be the 
 sympathetic mate, the friend, the companion that 
 Signer Cavarodossi would be to a wife. Yet he, too, 
 is a business man, but not one so eager for money that 
 he forgets the beautiful life. This is the land of com 
 merce, and all of our great men, and they are great, 
 wonderful men in their one way are what Dickens 
 calls Scrooge in his 6 Christmas Carol, 6 a tight- 
 fisted hand at the grindstone, and if they were not, 
 they couldn t accumulate so many millions ; but while 
 amassing these tremendous fortunes, what are they 
 to their families ? They are liberal with them, proud 
 of them, but how much of their company and their 
 thoughts can they give to their homes? The men 
 must keep their shoulders to the wheel or the wheel 
 stops. They have no time to take interest in the 
 small things of life. There is no existence so narrow, 
 so one-idead, as that of the American business man. 
 And what of the majority of the young men who are 
 
THEFLAME 83 
 
 living leisurely on their father s hard earnings? 
 They are absorbed by golf, polo, horses, automobiles, 
 vaudeville artists, and clubs. The wife can give her 
 husband his freedom in return for an extravagance 
 of gold. She can have her pleasures, her friends, her 
 clubs, but where is the home life? Such marriages 
 don t unite two people and make them one. Do you 
 remember, Richard, what Signer Cavarodossi said 
 the other night? 6 I don t believe in clubs for mar 
 ried men. Let their clubs be their homes. The for 
 eigner finds his greatest joy in his home, and it is this 
 and his knowing how to please that attracts us." 
 
 Gwendolyn had spoken rapidly with an earnest, ex 
 cited thrill in her voice, and now that she had finished, 
 she abruptly turned back to her flowers, but her hands 
 were trembling and the color in her cheeks had grown 
 deeper. 
 
 Richard never remembered hearing her speak at 
 such length, and he watched her with surprised curi 
 osity. He had not known that his sister had ever 
 thought on such subjects. He had not realized until 
 now that she was no longer a child, and the realiza 
 tion startled him. 
 
 " I know that you include me in the prosaic life of 
 the American business man," he said in a quiet, 
 thoughtful tone. " I suppose we are an uninterest 
 ing lot, not the kind to arouse the sentiment in our 
 romance-loving girls. Perhaps it is because we 
 starve them that they worship our actors and make 
 foppish matinee idols of some of them ! " 
 
 Gwendolyn s laugh was a little unsteady, and she 
 turned towards him again. 
 
84 THEFLAME 
 
 " Yes," she agreed. " Perhaps. I often have 
 thought, Dick, of how little we are benefited by the 
 millions that father and grandfather have left us. 
 A fiftieth part would give us the pleasures of life and 
 none of the worries. You are spending your days 
 and many of your nights figuring, planning, schem 
 ing, and for what? A peasant could teach us beau 
 ties of nature and joys of living that we know nothing 
 of. Such money-madness is phantom-chasing." 
 
 Richard did not answer, but clasping his hands, 
 rested his elbows on his knees, and gazed at the 
 floor. 
 
 Gwendolyn studied him and quick tears trembled 
 on her long lashes. 
 
 " You and I are all that are left of our family, 
 Dick, and you are always so busy that I am left alone. 
 I am a home body. Clubs and cards don t interest 
 me. We should spend more time together. Our 
 wealth is a curse when it enslaves you so that we have 
 no time for comradeship. What would a foreigner 
 be to me, Dick, if you and I could be chums? This 
 banking business, this speculating, and fighting side 
 by side with money-mad men is robbing you of the 
 love you used to feel for the little joys of life. Let 
 some one else take your place. Let us be young to 
 gether." 
 
 She threw her arms about him and he pressed her 
 to his heart and kissed her soft cheek and her hair. 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, Gwen. Maybe I should 
 pull out of the harness. I know I don t get much 
 out of life but the drudgery of it. But father made 
 a name as a business man and as a multi-millionaire, 
 
THE FLAME 85 
 
 and I feel that I ought to follow in his footsteps as 
 near as I can, and keep up the glory of the name." 
 
 The commercial light was strong in his eyes when 
 Gwendolyn raised her head and looked at him. 
 
 " Your life is your own, Dick," she sighed. " You 
 are money-mad like the others. It isn t because you 
 are greedy, but because you have caught the Ameri 
 can-enterprise fever as you say our girls have caught 
 the title-hunting fever." 
 
 " My malady won t cause me notoriety and dis 
 grace," Richard laughed. 
 
 " No. Our girls are foolish to marry these titled 
 men until they know that their lives have been good." 
 
 " That s the point ! It should be insisted upon." 
 
 " Of course it should. ... I wish our men 
 knew more of sentiment and romance." 
 
 Richard sharply eyed her a moment. " I have no 
 objection to a foreigner, Gwen, if he is like Cavaro- 
 dossi, or even an eccentric genius like Feleki, because 
 he has a great soul and I believe he is clean, but I ll 
 be hanged if I relish that Prince de Bourbon ! " 
 
 Gwendolyn caught a quick breath, and closing her 
 eyes, rested her lips against his forehead and did not 
 answer. 
 
 Jean Marie sent Gwendolyn a bouquet of tulips, 
 a basket of candy, and a pretty note announcing his 
 intention of calling in the afternoon. " The flowers 
 are beautiful," Gwendolyn was saying as they sat in 
 the dainty blue-and-gold reception-room. 
 
 " I am glad you like them. I sent the variegated 
 tulips because they mean, Your eyes are beautiful, 
 
86 THEFLAME 
 
 answered Jean Marie, giving her a look of intense ad 
 miration. He was gratified that the uneasiness she 
 had shown in his presence the last time he had called 
 was not apparent to-day. Perhaps he had been mis 
 taken. 
 
 " Your Highness is always flattering me," Gwen 
 dolyn blushingly protested. 
 
 " The truth is never flattery, Mademoiselle. I 
 admire all that is beautiful." 
 
 Jean Marie s voice was soft and musical, and he 
 seemed perfectly calm, but inwardly he was raging, 
 bleeding from wounded pride and resentment. He 
 had gone that morning to pay for his paintings, and 
 had not seen Mr. Walsh, but one of his partners. 
 The man had been courteous and had expressed a de 
 sire to place the Prince s name again on their books, 
 but Jean Marie felt that the art dealer was looking 
 him over with curiosity and a tinge of sarcastic 
 amusement. He was positive that Mr. Walsh had 
 told the man that a mysterious woman had given the 
 Prince the money with which to pay his debt, and he 
 knew that this would start an uncomfortable rumor. 
 Camille had accomplished her aim and besides had 
 placed Jean Marie more within her clutches. 
 
 " The beauties of life overshadow all that is un 
 lovely in it," the Prince went on, after a slight pause, 
 but at present he knew his words to be anything but 
 true. " I am thankful for the joy of living. Your 
 home should be in Europe, Mademoiselle. You are 
 so fond of art. Have you ever been abroad? " 
 
 " Yes, but I was only eleven." 
 
 " That is too young to understand the glories and 
 
THEFLAME 87 
 
 romance of the Old World. Every palace, church 
 and government building is a living page of history. 
 My own castle is permeated with an atmosphere of the 
 adventure and romance of centuries ago." 
 
 " Your home is at Versailles, isn t it? " asked Gwen 
 dolyn, feeling a little uneasy when she thought of 
 Richard calling him a Claude Melnotte. 
 
 " Yes, and it is a charming, picturesque place. I 
 hope that when you visit France I can have the pleas 
 ure of being your host." 
 
 " Thank you. Won t you tell me something of 
 your castle ? " Gwendolyn knew that it was Rich 
 ard s poisoned arrow that was aggravating her curi 
 osity and she was ashamed that she succumbed. 
 
 The Prince drew his chair a little closer and his 
 mild brown eyes rested upon her before he spoke in 
 his slow, quiet tone. 
 
 " The castle is old, Mademoiselle, centuries old, 
 built of gray stone, and leading up the terraces are 
 marble steps deeply worn by the many feet that have 
 trodden them. The great hall and salons are hung 
 with tapestries and paintings from the brushes of 
 masters. The grand stairway leads up to the large 
 bedchambers, which have been honored by such guests 
 as kings, queens, statesmen, and the beauties of 
 France. The armor of my forefathers adorns the 
 walls together with their portraits. The grounds 
 surrounding the castle are romantically beautiful. 
 Rustic seats stand under the shade of the majestic 
 old trees, and the entwining branches make charming 
 bowers, delightful for those whose souls are thrilled 
 by the beauties of nature and sentiment. The air is 
 
88 THE FLAME 
 
 sweet with the perfume of the flowers and vibrant 
 with the songs of the birds that would sing to you, 
 Mademoiselle, if you were there. Pretty, murmur 
 ing fountains play half hidden among the roses and 
 foliage. All is quiet and peaceful and stands as a 
 monument of the brilliant and picturesque past." 
 
 Gwendolyn half turned away as she listened. It 
 was foolish to think of Richard s little taunt, but she 
 vividly remembered that Claude Melnotte had told 
 Pauline of the perfumed air, the birds that would syl 
 lable her name, the murmuring fountains and the 
 shady bowers. She wished that Jean Marie s descrip 
 tion had been different. 
 
 " It is beautiful," she softly said. " I hope some 
 day to see it." 
 
 Jean Marie mistook the emotion in her voice, and 
 yet it was not altogether a mistake, Because Gwen 
 dolyn still believed in him, and the castle he described 
 was the home that called to the longing in her heart. 
 
 " My hospitality is always at your service, 
 Mademoiselle. All my castle needs is a charming 
 woman to be its mistress, for like its master, it is 
 lonely for love and attention." 
 
 Gwendolyn raised her quivering eyelids and glanced 
 at the Prince. His ardent gaze held her. The color 
 deepened in her cheeks and a slow light kindled in her 
 eyes, answering the love that shone in his. He leaned 
 forward, and, dropping on his knee, caught her hand 
 and raised it to his lips. She drew a quick breath 
 and trembled. 
 
 The front door opened and closed with a sharp 
 fling. It was Richard, who had come home earlier 
 
THEFLAME 89 
 
 than usual because Gwendolyn had asked for his com 
 panionship. 
 
 Jean Marie pushed back his chair and slipped into 
 it before Richard drew aside the portiere and entered. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 SEVERAL nights after the dinner given in Jean 
 Marie s apartments, Cavarodossi called on Ca- 
 mille and took two Italian friends with him, one a 
 violinist, the other a Neapolitan baritone who sang 
 the pretty, sentimental songs popular in his lovely 
 southern home. Believing that her only chance of 
 beginning the conquest of Mario would be by a show 
 of modesty, Camille had robed herself in black and 
 covered her fair shoulders with heavy lace. Her de 
 meanor had been invested with a certain refinement 
 that had pleased Mario. She betrayed the vivacity 
 of the cafe singer, but none of the abandon, and 
 Cavarodossi believed that he had discovered some 
 thing of the gentlewoman in her nature and felt more 
 respect and admiration for her. This had been the 
 first of the musical evenings that Camille had sug 
 gested, and it proved a delightful success. Monsieur 
 Dubois had been the only audience, Jean Marie having 
 remained away because he did not wish to betray in 
 terest in Camille or her entertainment. He intended 
 that Cavarodossi should manifest the greatest inti 
 macy. The Prince was courteous but indifferent, 
 and in a polite way held himself aloof. He was a 
 clever actor, but not so accomplished that Mario was 
 deceived. 
 
 A week after the first musicale, Camille suggested 
 90 
 
THEFLAME 91 
 
 a second, because Cavarodossi did not seem inclined 
 to call on her unless others were present. Mario had 
 asked if he might bring his friend, the distinguished 
 violinist, Monsieur Feleki, and Camille had enthusi 
 astically consented. She was very fond of the violin, 
 she had said, and the look that had come into her 
 eyes had aroused Mario s interest, and he was curious 
 to see how Camille and Feleki would impress each 
 other. 
 
 On the night that Camille had set for the musicale, 
 Jean Marie was invited to dine at the club, and Ca 
 mille did not tell him of the company she was expect 
 ing, because she found more pleasure in Mario s so 
 ciety when the Prince was not present, and also she 
 wanted to question Feleki concerning Janos Zrinyi. 
 As they were both Hungarians and violinists, and as 
 both were now in the same city, they surely would 
 know something of each other, and Camille had a 
 great desire to find Janos, to speak to him, to feel 
 that he was near her again, for in the years that they 
 had been separated, hopeless longing had matured her 
 love for him. There were times when she loathed her 
 present life and yearned to live in the past. She 
 knew that she could learn nothing of Janos from 
 Cavarodossi, because he had denied an acquaintance 
 with the violinist, and this she could not understand, 
 unless Jean Marie had asked him to be silent. She 
 and the Prince spoke no more of Janos. 
 
 Camille stood in her bedroom looking searchingly 
 at her reflection in the mirror. Had her appearance 
 changed since her last meeting with Janos ? Had the 
 life of the cafe singer left an indelible scar upon her 
 
92 THEFLAME 
 
 face? No. Yet it seemed to her that there was a 
 difference. A glow, a radiance had intensified her 
 beauty, and she loved it, but would he? Jean Marie 
 was fascinated by it, but Janos was a different man. 
 He was like Cavarodossi, and for a moment she hated 
 Jean Marie ; then the abandon in her nature asserted 
 itself, and she tossed back her head, and softly laugh 
 ing, wished that the Prince were near to admire her 
 new gown. It was a clinging costume of a greenish- 
 yellow color, covered over with opalescent spangles as 
 thin as fish scales and when she moved with her slow, 
 sinuous grace, the effect was strangely serpentine. 
 
 " You never have been more beautiful than you are 
 to-night, Madame," said the maid, as she went back 
 into the bedroom from the parlor and studied her mis 
 tress with critical admiration. 
 
 Camille s eyes brightened and she smiled as she 
 glanced again into the mirror. 
 
 " You are irresistible," the maid added, " and the 
 handsome Italian gentleman will be vanquished to 
 night." 
 
 A thrill of proud satisfaction shot through Camille 
 and her breath came quickly through her red lips. 
 
 " I have put a green shade on the electric lamp in 
 the reception-room," the piquant Celeste went on. 
 " Don t you think, Madame, that the lamp will fur 
 nish enough light? It leaves one end of the room 
 dimly illuminated, and you are magnificent in a soft 
 glow. It seems to enhance the brilliancy of your 
 eyes. And then, as you go towards the piano and the 
 strong light falls upon this gown, the spangles will be 
 strikingly effective. If you will look into the room, 
 
THEFLAME 93 
 
 Madame, I am sure you will be pleased with the ar 
 rangement." 
 
 Camille went to the door and the maid s sharp eyes 
 followed her with approval. 
 
 " Yes, this is light enough," the singer said. " One 
 lamp is effective. Take the atomizer and spray the 
 room with perfume." 
 
 Celeste obeyed and Camille went back to survey 
 her bright image in the mirror. 
 
 Presently a knock fell upon the reception-room 
 door. 
 
 " Come here as soon as you have admitted them 
 and fasten the diamond star in my hair," Camille 
 said, hurriedly, as she closed her bedroom door. 
 
 Cavarodossi and Feleki entered the reception-room ; 
 the violinist paused abruptly and hot blood surged 
 to his cheeks. The perfume gave him a strange sen 
 sation, because it was the kind Diane had worn the 
 night he had met her outside the cafe in Paris. He 
 put his violin on a table and with an unsteady hand 
 gave his hat and overcoat to Celeste, who laid them 
 on a chair. 
 
 " Isn t this room like a stage ! " said Cavarodossi 
 in a low tone, after the maid had gone back to Ca 
 mille. " When I come here, I always feel as though 
 I were an actor, Mario Cavarodossi in the play." 
 
 Feleki did not answer, but stood looking round with 
 eyes keenly alert. Diane would have furnished a 
 room with this same gaudy splendor. A nervousness 
 was stealing over him, and he repeatedly glanced to 
 wards the door through which Camille would appear. 
 He wished he had not come. Of what interest would 
 
94 THE FLAME 
 
 this cafe singer be to him ? He despised these women 
 whose charms lay in falseness and abandonment. 
 Why had he come when he might have spent the even 
 ing with Gwendolyn and her friends ? He was angry 
 with himself and impatient with Cavarodossi for ex 
 tending this invitation to him, and he turned to take 
 his hat and coat and leave, when the door opened and 
 Camille swept into the room. 
 
 " Good evening ! " She gasped and shrank back 
 into the shadow. 
 
 " Diane ! " Feleki blanched and swayed. 
 
 Cavarodossi, in surprise, caught his arm, but 
 Feleki quickly mastered his emotion. 
 
 " Janos ! " The name slipped from Camille s lips 
 with a startled tremor, and her eyes, aflame, devoured 
 him. " Janos ! " she repeated in a low, quivering 
 tone, her hand slowly reached out towards him. 
 
 He drew back with a sudden start, as if her finger 
 tips had touched him. His face was ashen, his 
 breath came hard, and, closing his eyes, he turned 
 away and sank into a chair. 
 
 Cavarodossi glanced from one to the other, and a 
 quick sympathy came into his eyes as they rested on 
 Feleki. He laid his hand on the violinist s shoulder 
 and said in a tone vibrant with feeling: 
 
 " Forgive me for bringing you. I didn t know." 
 
 Feleki nodded. " It is all right." Drawing a 
 quick breath and setting his lips firm, he rose and 
 turned towards Camille without looking at her. 
 " You know, Cavarodossi, the story of Diane Godin, 
 so you understand." 
 
 Surprise flashed into Camille s eyes, then they 
 
THE FLAME 95 
 
 flooded over with hungry love. He had not forgotten 
 her ; he had thought enough of her to tell the story of 
 their romance to Cavarodossi! Her heart throbbed 
 and cried out for the love that Janos had once felt for 
 her. Jean Marie was forgotten and overthrown in 
 the tumult that raged within her. She wanted Janos, 
 she would have him; he had been her first love, her 
 only love. She would crush out of his memory these 
 years of sinful life that she had led while a public 
 singer. Her trembling body was swayed by the tor 
 rent of desperate blood beating through her veins. 
 The fire that rose in her eyes burned the curtain that 
 until now had half hidden her reckless, primitive soul. 
 
 As Cavarodossi watched her, he felt himself grow 
 cold. What tiger was as dangerous as this desperate 
 woman? At first he could understand but a small 
 part of her emotion, then slowly he began to suspect 
 that Jean Marie was the man whom Feleki had called 
 the viper that had plunged its poisonous fangs into 
 Diane. Had her love for Janos re-awakened, a 
 love made hopeless by the life into which Jean Marie 
 had led her? Cavarodossi was angry with himself for 
 allowing his curiosity to tempt him into bringing them 
 together. 
 
 Without a glance at Camille, Janos turned away 
 and went to the piano. 
 
 Camille sprang forward, and all the pent-up emo 
 tion that was swaying her, like a helpless ship tossed 
 by a storm, burst from her lips with the wild cry : 
 
 " Janos ! " 
 
 As he swung round with a start, a knock fell upon 
 the door. Camille drew herself up with a jerk, the 
 
96 THEFLAME 
 
 muscles of her face contracted, and slowly the fire and 
 appeal died in her eyes. She was a rigid statue of will. 
 
 The maid came from the bedroom to admit the 
 caller. Camille, Feleki and Cavarodossi were silent 
 as she crossed the room. The two men were watch 
 ing Camille s wonderful control and the rapid trans 
 formation of her countenance. 
 
 Monsieur Dubois entered with his usual fluster. 
 His cheeks were red, his eyes very round and bril 
 liant, and he was struggling to suppress his labored 
 breathing. 
 
 Camille went forward and greeted him with her ac 
 customed courtesy and bright smile. The hand she 
 extended was steady. 
 
 "Am I too late for the music? I have hurried." 
 Dubois daintily mopped his beaded brow. 
 
 " No. Monsieur Feleki has not yet honored us." 
 Camille motioned for them all to be seated but she 
 did not look into Janos s eyes. 
 
 " I was about to play," Feleki quickly said. He 
 preferred playing to sitting quiet before Camille and 
 struggling with an idle conversation. 
 
 " Then pray don t let my coming interfere. It 
 was the hope of hearing you that brought me at such 
 an undignified pace." 
 
 Feleki rose to get his violin, and Dubois settled 
 back in his chair and clasped his fingers. The palms 
 of his hands could not meet without an effort. 
 
 " Isn t His Highness coming to-night? " he asked. 
 
 " No," Camille returned. " He is dining at a 
 club," 
 
THEFLAME 97 
 
 Janos began to tune his violin, and Mario went to 
 the piano. He wished the evening would soon end, 
 because he feared the endurance of Camille s quick 
 control. 
 
 Feleki s violin did not sing with its accustomed 
 soul. It lacked the haunting wail and the passion. 
 It did not speak; it was only an instrument. But 
 Dubois was not a musician, and he did not under 
 stand. Feleki was world famous ; so his playing must 
 be faultless. 
 
 Camille knew that this was not the true Janos. 
 There was nothing stilted and forced in his natural 
 art, but she joined in Dubois s profuse applause and 
 highly complimented him. Janos played once more, 
 a simple little melody, then put his violin back into 
 its case. 
 
 " Isn t Mademoiselle going to sing for us ? " asked 
 Dubois, flashing Camille a flattering, languorous 
 glance. 
 
 " No. My voice isn t clear to-night." 
 
 Dubois was crestfallen. 
 
 " Don t look so unhappy ! " laughed Camille. 
 " Tell us the news of to-day." 
 
 " Rather the news of to-night," he answered. 
 " What made me late in arriving was a visit I paid 
 the Art Institute to see a painting that is on exhibi 
 tion for the last time to-night. I wish you could 
 have seen it," he added, turning to Cavarodossi. 
 " You would appreciate it. The painter is a young 
 Italian, Giordano Severi, who is a student in the 
 Academia di Belle Arti in Florence. It was bought 
 
98 THEFLAME 
 
 by a San Franciscan traveling in Italy and is truly 
 an unusual work of art." 
 
 " I wish I could have seen it," said Mario. " I 
 am always interested in the products of young Italy." 
 He drew out his watch. " How late does the gallery 
 keep open ? " He wanted to leave and take Feleki 
 with him. 
 
 " I am not sure, but I believe until eleven." 
 
 Camille gave Mario a quick glance and understood. 
 She wanted to be alone. 
 
 " Take Signor Cavarodossi to see the picture," she 
 said, looking back to Dubois. " You are all welcome 
 here any night, but you can t always see an exquisite 
 painting. I should be unhappy if I thought I were 
 depriving you of any pleasure. Do take him and 
 Monsieur Feleki, also." 
 
 Dubois hesitated. " Well," he said, slowly, " per 
 haps I will take Cavarodossi, but Monsieur Feleki is 
 not so interested in Italian art, and I know he pre 
 fers to remain here with you, charming Mademoiselle, 
 and we are not so ungallant as to leave you alone. 
 Are we ? " he asked Feleki. 
 
 " No." The tone was dull. 
 
 " Yes, do take him ! " urged Camille with a forced, 
 playful pleading. To be alone with Janos I Her 
 heart throbbed. 
 
 " No ! I positively refuse. And you know you 
 don t want to lose him ! " Dubois slyly shook his 
 finger at Camille, and she reddened. He thought it 
 was modesty and was amused. 
 
 Mario glanced anxiously from Camille to Feleki. 
 He wished he had not proposed leaving. It was dan- 
 
THEFLAME 99 
 
 gerous for Janos to be alone with her, but now Mario 
 could not refuse to go. It would appear that he was 
 jealous. 
 
 " If we are going we had better start," said Du- 
 bois, " or we ll not have time to see the picture." 
 
 Mario slowly rose. 
 
 " I know it is hard for you to tear yourself away." 
 Dubois s pudgy face creased into an expansive smile. 
 " You hypnotize us, bewitch us, Mademoiselle." 
 
 Cavarodossi took Camille s hand as they said good- 
 by, and she clutched his fingers with a convulsive 
 jerk. He looked sharply into her eyes, and she low 
 ered her head. 
 
 Dubois pressed an ardent kiss on her hand ; his 
 osculation was always noisy. 
 
 " I ll come to-morrow night, if I may," he said. 
 " This fleeting call will seem like a dream." 
 
 " You are always welcome." Camille knew how to 
 make her words ring true. 
 
 Feleki bade them good-night and went and sat on 
 the piano stool and began to fold his music together. 
 
 As her departing guests stepped out into the cor 
 ridor, Camille closed the door and abruptly locked it. 
 Feleki did not turn. She stood for a moment with 
 her back against the door and her hand behind her 
 clutching the knob. The blood slowly mounted to 
 her cheeks, then as slowly faded, and her eyes, be 
 ginning to flame, were half concealed by the quiver 
 ing lids. Suddenly she sprang forward and fell pros 
 trate at Janos s feet and buried her face in the white 
 fur rug. 
 
 He sprang up. 
 
100 THE FLAME 
 
 " Don t, Diane ! " he said, unsteadily. " I am 
 going. We mustn t meet again." 
 
 In an instant she was on her knees clinging to him. 
 
 " Janos ! Pity me ! " 
 
 He broke from her clutch without touching her, 
 but she threw herself forward and seized his hand. 
 
 " Don t ! " he said, and in his tone there was the 
 mingling of emotion and repulsion. 
 
 She knew he felt that pollution was in her touch 
 and desperation surged through her again. 
 
 " Pity me ! Forgive me ! " broke from her lips. 
 
 " I could forgive you many things, Diane, but not 
 this coming to America with him in search of a 
 wealthy bride." 
 
 " How dare you accuse me of such a thing ! " she 
 hotly demanded, rising. " I did not come here with 
 Jean, and if he is searching for a wealthy girl, he has 
 not told me of it. I arrived in San Francisco but 
 three weeks ago." 
 
 Feleki looked into her eyes and knew that she told 
 the truth. 
 
 " Forgive me," he quietly said. 
 
 She walked away from him into the shadow. Her 
 breath was coming short and hard, and the madness 
 was stealing through her again. She would not give 
 him up ! She would kill the repulsion he felt for her, 
 but she must show him calmness. 
 
 " Why did you change your name when you went 
 on the concert stage? " she asked in a low tone that 
 was strained and unnatural. 
 
 " Because my own name is unpronounceable for 
 English-speaking people." He had put his music 
 
THE FL-AME 101 
 
 into his violin case and had fastened the last strap. 
 Without giving Camille a glance, he went and took 
 his hat and overcoat from the chair near her. 
 
 Three light knocks came on the door, a pause, and 
 then a repetition. 
 
 With a low cry, Camille sprang forward and threw 
 her arms about Janos. 
 
 " It s Jean ! " she whispered, but her fear of their 
 meeting was forgotten in the joy of clasping him 
 again in her arms. Her lips were close to his ear. 
 " He mustn t see you," she murmured, and a kiss 
 brushed his cheek. 
 
 With a start, Feleki jerked away. He turned and 
 looked at her coldly. 
 
 " Why should I run away from him ? " There was 
 a stinging contempt in his tone. 
 
 " For my sake, Janos ! For me ! " she nervously 
 pleaded, seizing his arm. " He will make a scene. 
 We mustn t have a scandal." She ran to the table, 
 caught up his violin, and thrust it into his hand. 
 " Go into my bedroom. Quick ! Quick ! You can 
 leave by the door in there. Oh, Janos, do hurry ! " 
 She opened her bedroom door and forced him in be 
 fore he could resist. Celeste was not there. Camille 
 closed the door behind him and braced herself against 
 it. 
 
 The three knocks were repeated, but this time they 
 were loud and insistent. 
 
 Camille drew a quick breath, then hurried to the 
 door and opened it. 
 
 Jean Marie stepped in and looked round with sur 
 prise and anger. 
 
102 THE FLAME 
 
 "Who was here when I first knocked?" he de 
 manded. " Why didn t Celeste admit me? " 
 
 " She has gone to order supper." Camille s tone 
 grew icy in her struggle to make it natural. 
 
 " I heard a man speak while I was waiting." Jean 
 Marie gave her a sharp glance. " You are excited. 
 You are trembling. Who was here ! " 
 
 " No one. Cavarodossi and Dubois left a few 
 minutes ago to see a painting in the Art Insti 
 tute." 
 
 Jean Marie looked steadily into her eyes, and his 
 face reddened. Dropping his hat on a chair, he went 
 towards her bedroom door. 
 
 " Jean ! " she hotly exclaimed. 
 
 " I want to know whom you are hiding." He 
 threw open the door. 
 
 Camille sprang forward. 
 
 Jean Marie stepped deliberately into the room. It 
 was empty. 
 
 Camille pressed her hand to her throbbing heart. 
 
 "Are you satisfied? " She laughed tauntingly. 
 
 Jean Marie ignored her and went farther into the 
 room. His alert eye caught sight of a little black 
 object lying on the floor near the door leading out 
 into the corridor. He went and picked it up. It 
 was a small, thin leather card-case. 
 
 Camille was at his side in a moment. The Prince 
 glanced up at her with a triumphant smile in his eyes. 
 He slowly opened the case. Across it in gold letters 
 was stamped " Janos Feleki." 
 
 An exclamation of rage and astonishment broke 
 from Jean Marie. 
 
T H E F L A M E 103 
 
 " He has been here ! " he said, as he slipped the 
 case into his pocket. 
 
 Camille faced him with defiance. 
 
 " Yes. Cavarodossi brought him. You thought 
 you would keep us apart by not telling me the name 
 he is now using, but Fate has played you a trick." 
 
 The Prince paled. He had not only Camille to 
 fear, but now he was even more at Feleki s mercy. 
 Anger slowly returned to his eyes. Camille under 
 stood his apprehension and said in a mocking tone 
 that cut like a rapier: 
 
 " You seem uneasy, Jean. Are you afraid of the 
 result of Janos s meeting with me?" 
 
 " Afraid ! " Jean Marie contemptuously echoed. 
 " What have I to fear from a Hungarian fiddler? " 
 
 Camille smiled significantly. 
 
 " Give me that card-case." 
 
 " No ! He will receive it at a moment when he 
 cares least to have it." A hateful light was in the 
 Prince s eyes. 
 
 " You can t make trouble for him, Jean, but he can 
 ruin you." 
 
 " We ll see what I can do ! " A tinge of bravado 
 was in his tone, but he knew that he was powerless. 
 
 Camille shrugged and went back into the reception- 
 room. She felt that danger was passed where Janos 
 was concerned, for she believed that the only harm 
 that could come to him would have been by Jean 
 Marie s sudden meeting with him in her apartments. 
 She went to the piano and began to sing, but the ex 
 citement and emotion that had torn her made her 
 voice unsteady and hoarse. 
 
104 THE FLAME 
 
 Jean Marie followed her back into the room. He 
 went to the window, raised the shade, and, thrusting 
 his fists down deep into his pockets, stood looking, 
 unseeingly, out into the street with fear, anger and 
 revenge playing havoc in his brain. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AFTER Camille had forced Janos into her bed 
 room and closed the door, he stood still wonder 
 ing what he should do, whether he should go back into 
 the reception-room and meet Jean Marie or leave as 
 Camille had begged him to do. . . . He would 
 leave. Jean Marie would never know of his coming, 
 and no trouble would be caused for Camille. 
 
 Janos s alert eyes swept round the room. The 
 disorder was typical of the Diane of old. Every 
 chair was laden with clothes, several pairs of slippers 
 were scattered over the floor, and on the bureau lay 
 her jewels in confusion. The room, the atmosphere 
 were permeated with the woman s dashing, reckless 
 character; it was like a living thing, and Janos felt 
 himself again in Diane s embrace. He caught a 
 sharp breath and started to leave the room. On the 
 foot of the bed lay a dainty handkerchief, and with a 
 quick impulse, he seized it and pressed it to his lips. 
 It was scented with the same perfume, and under the 
 spell of his emotion he thrust it into his coat. He 
 heard Camille close the reception-room door, and Jean 
 Marie s angry tones came to him distinctly. Casting 
 a last glance about, he hurried to the door. His over 
 coat slipped from his arm and he jerked it up, not 
 noticing the card-case that fell from the pocket. 
 Softly closing the door, he went quickly down the 
 corridor. 
 
 105 
 
106 THE FLAME 
 
 As he stepped out into the street, the cool night air 
 and the brisk wind that struck him were welcome and 
 refreshing. He had drawn on his overcoat and now 
 he fastened it about his throat. The St. Francis 
 Hotel, where he was living, was eight blocks away, and 
 he decided to walk, so that his turbulent emotions 
 might calm. 
 
 Camille s bright image would not vanish from his 
 mind. Again he could see her throw herself pros 
 trate at his feet; he could feel the pressure of her 
 trembling arms as she clung to him, and her quivering 
 lips as they lightly caressed his cheek. The vivid 
 memory of her desperation, her madness, thrilled him 
 and he breathed hard and fast as he hurried on. 
 Then, like the piercing of a poisoned dart, came to 
 him the realization that she was no longer Diane 
 Godin, but Camille Dubray, the cafe singer, the toy 
 of the idle rich. 
 
 " O God ! " he muttered, and his voice was hoarse 
 with unshed tears. 
 
 He reached the St. Francis and went up to his room. 
 An exclamation of surprise and anxiety broke from 
 his valet s lips when he saw his master s white, hag 
 gard face. 
 
 " Are you ill, Monsieur ? " he asked, quickly going 
 forward. " Shall I get you something hot to drink? " 
 
 " No, thank you. I am all right. Leave me alone. 
 I m not going to bed yet." 
 
 The valet gave him a furtive, anxious glance as he 
 went into the adjoining room and closed the door. 
 
 When he was alone, Feleki began walking to and 
 fro. Once he caught his reflection in the mirror and 
 
T H E F L A M E 107 
 
 abruptly halted, astonished at the pallor of his face 
 and the hollowness and feverish brilliancy of his eyes. 
 He turned and threw himself face downward on a 
 couch. Suddenly he arose and started from the room. 
 Cavarodossi also was living at the St. Francis. Fe- 
 leki went to his apartment, and found Mario in the 
 corridor, unlocking his door. 
 
 " Hello ! " he exclaimed with assumed lightness, as 
 Feleki drew near, but as he looked into the violinist s 
 eyes, his face sobered and he grasped Janos s hand 
 and gave it a sympathetic shake. 
 
 They entered the room, and Cavarodossi turned on 
 the electric light and gave Feleki another sharp look. 
 
 " Did anything serious happen after I left ? " he 
 asked, as he offered Janos a chair and opened a box 
 of cigars. 
 
 " No. She understands that I am lost to her for 
 ever." 
 
 Cavarodossi slowly shook his head. " As long as 
 there is life in her body, she will hope." 
 
 " Then that is her punishment." Feleki drew his 
 unsteady hand across his brow. 
 
 Mario studied him a moment. " Do you know, 
 Feleki," he said, as he sat down opposite Janos and 
 took a cigar from the box, " I felt sorry for her to 
 night. I never before have seen a soul laid bare, 
 and I shall never forget this. She loves you, and I 
 believe if you should take her from this life she 
 would be true." 
 
 Janos gave Cavarodossi a quick look and resent 
 ment flashed into his eyes. 
 
 "Why do you say this to me?" he demanded. 
 
108 THE FLAME 
 
 " I love Diane Godin, but I hate Camille Dubray. 
 Diane is dead forever. Tell me, Cavarodossi, would 
 you marry Camille Dubray, or any such woman ? " 
 
 Mario hesitated. " This is a question that requires 
 much thought, and perhaps I would not say in every 
 case what I do now, that this woman deserves a 
 chance, for she is not wholly bad. I believe that it 
 was youth and poverty that led her astray." 
 
 The resentment faded from Feleki s eyes, and he 
 sighed. 
 
 " It was fortunate that Bourbon did not come to 
 night," Mario added. 
 
 " He did, after you left." 
 
 Cavarodossi leaned forward. " What happened? " 
 
 " I didn t meet him. She begged me to leave by 
 her bedroom door and I did. Have you guessed that 
 Bourbon was the man who took Diane away from 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Feleki nodded, and laying his cigar on a tray, un 
 crossed his knees, and came forward in his chair. 
 
 " Cavarodossi," he said with a quiet force in his 
 voice, " I want you to help me." 
 
 " Yes, if I can." 
 
 " I am convinced that Bourbon is trying to win 
 Miss Rolfe, and it has got to stop. He is not in love 
 with her. She is not the kind of a woman he admires. 
 It is her money he is after and he would squander 
 every dollar of it, then leave her penniless. She is a 
 sweet, unsuspecting girl and she must be saved from 
 this vulture. I could denounce Bourbon, but I don t 
 want to unless I am forced to it. I don t wish no- 
 
THE FLAME 109 
 
 toriety and scandal, nor do I wish Bourbon to think 
 that I am stooping to revenge. But you are on 
 friendly terms with Miss Rolfe and can have some 
 influence with her, because it is evident that she likes 
 you well." Feleki glanced away, not caring to no 
 tice the color that rose to Cavarodossi s cheeks, but 
 the blush told him all he wished to know. " You 
 and Mr. Rolfe are good friends," he went on. " Give 
 him a hint that Bourbon s habits are none too good. 
 I don t like to speak to him, because we have met 
 only three or four times and he might think me of 
 ficious, but something must be done and you can do 
 it better than I, because I am almost a stranger to 
 Miss Rolfe and her brother." 
 
 " I ll gladly assist in the breaking off of that 
 match," Mario gravely said. " I don t know 
 whether it is title or romance that has ensnared Miss 
 Rolfe, or perhaps the ladies find Bourbon a lovable 
 fellow." 
 
 Feleki impatiently shrugged. " Whatever it is, 
 she must be made to see the real man, the hypo 
 crite unadorned." 
 
 " Yes," sanctioned Mario, " and to-morrow I ll 
 begin to shear the glory of this fortune-hunter." 
 
 " Win her yourself ; then we will know she is safe." 
 Feleki spoke lightly, but Cavarodossi knew -that he 
 was in earnest. 
 
 " She is a lovely girl," was all he said. 
 
 " Yes, and keep her so. Don t let that viper claim 
 a second victim." The faint color that had returned 
 to Janos s face left again, and he rose. " Who 
 would have thought that here in far-away San Fran- 
 
110 THE FLAME 
 
 cisco I would meet him and Diane. But no, she 
 is no more Diane. She will never be anything now 
 but Camille Dubray. If you could have known her 
 as she was at eighteen ! " 
 
 Cavarodossi rose and put his arm round Feleki s 
 shoulders. " Forget her," he said feelingly. " Na 
 ture heals every wound, even death." 
 
 " There is one affliction it cannot heal, the living 
 death." 
 
 Mario s arm slipped from his shoulder. " Staying 
 here will give you pain," he presently said. " Go 
 away and save yourself this suffering." 
 
 " No, not until I know Miss Rolfe is safe." 
 
 " Leave everything to me." 
 
 " You may need me. Proofs may be necessary. 
 I ll not see Diane again. We can be in the same 
 city here without meeting as well as in Paris. I ll 
 say good-night, Cavarodossi. I am going to bed. 
 I m tired." 
 
 " Good-night ! When we win, we ll have done 
 something worth while." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 They shook hands and parted. 
 
 Janos returned to his room and went immediately 
 to bed, and when he was alone in the dark, he buried 
 his face in his pillow and hot tears flowed without re 
 straint. 
 
 The next afternoon when Cavarodossi called at 
 Gwendolyn s home, the butler, returning to the re 
 ception-room, asked Mario to follow him into the 
 large flower garden back of the Rolfe home. In a 
 
THE FLAME 111 
 
 rose-covered latticed bower sat Gwendolyn, embroid 
 ering. 
 
 " You are industrious, Signorina," said Mario, 
 bowing over her hand. 
 
 " I always like to be doing something." She 
 smiled and motioned him to a seat opposite her. 
 A little work-table was between them. " I am not 
 a society girl, so I must employ myself in some other 
 way." 
 
 " This great mansion must monopolize much of 
 your time." 
 
 " Yes, it does. Two months after I was gradu 
 ated from the convent and returned home, Richard 
 discharged the housekeeper and let me have full man 
 agement, and I have kept it ever since." 
 
 The modest pride in her tone pleased Mario, and he 
 said, earnestly : 
 
 " I congratulate you, Signorina, on your ability. 
 I admire a woman who is the true mistress and super 
 intendent of her home. A dwelling is never a home 
 when it is left to a servant s care. The home life, 
 the home love, is always missing." 
 
 " That is my opinion and I ll never renounce my 
 position, unless Richard marries." 
 
 " Don t you intend ever to marry ? " Mario asked 
 with a light laugh. 
 
 The color that rose to Gwendolyn s cheeks rivaled 
 the pink of her gown. 
 
 " Oh, perhaps, some day," she said, " but don t 
 you think I d make a charming old maid, or rather a 
 bachelor girl, as she is more graciously styled now ? " 
 
112 THE FLAME 
 
 " You are charming under any and all condi 
 tions, Signorina, but I should prefer to see you the 
 wife of some good, respected man." 
 
 " That s the only kind I d have ! " 
 
 " Then study him well and be sure that he reaches 
 your expectation in every way." 
 
 " I can t be sure. Marriage is a lottery, you 
 know." 
 
 " But it needn t be quite so much of a lottery if 
 it is given more serious study. A man s past life 
 should be critically examined before he is accepted, 
 and if his morals have been loose and his habits 
 irregular, he should be rejected. I don t believe in 
 killing the fatted calf for the prodigal son. Some 
 men are permanently redeemed, others temporarily 
 and the redemption of the latter usually comes about 
 because there is something in sight for their per 
 sonal gain. My laws are rigid where marriage is 
 concerned." 
 
 " You are right." Gwendolyn s tone was em 
 phatic and she looked Mario full in the eyes. 
 
 He was gratified, for it told him that a title and 
 castles could not blind her to all else. 
 
 " I read something in the newspapers this morning 
 that pleased me," he said. " An American heiress 
 has refused to marry a titled foreigner because she 
 has discovered that he has an unspeakable past. I 
 admire her good sense." 
 
 " Don t you be too hard on the titled men," laughed 
 Gwendolyn. " Remember that your own country 
 has its noblemen." 
 
 " Perhaps that is why I am wary of them. If 
 
THE FLAME 113 
 
 you lived in a title-ridden land you would under 
 stand that princes and dukes are no better than you, 
 yourself, and in most cases not half so good. I am 
 always suspicious of noblemen, especially those in 
 America who have no apparent reason for being 
 here." 
 
 While Mario had been speaking, he had taken up 
 a book from the table and began glancing over it. 
 His tone was careless and impersonal and the quick 
 resentment that Gwendolyn had felt died before she 
 retaliated. He looked very calm and innocent of 
 offense. 
 
 " All noblemen can t be bad men," she said, imi 
 tating his careless tone. 
 
 " Surely not, Signorina. In Italy there are many 
 who are estimable men, and it is the same in every 
 country." 
 
 " Certainly." Gratitude and pleasure were in her 
 voice. 
 
 "Are you a devotee of Byron?" Mario asked, 
 glancing again at the book he held. 
 
 " Yes. I love his poetry." 
 
 Mario turned over some pages. " He loved Italy," 
 he said. " I greatly admire his Childe Harold s 
 Pilgrimage. " He opened to the fourth canto of 
 that poem. " You must see my country, Signorina." 
 
 " Yes. I wish to visit Italy and France." 
 
 " Italy ! " he insisted, and laughed. " I am bold 
 enough to declare that my country is the most beau 
 tiful on earth." 
 
 " You are justly proud, no doubt, but I am deeply 
 interested in France, because the Prince de Bourbon 
 
114 THE FLAME 
 
 has told me such charming, romantic stories of his 
 country. Think of one s emotion when entering the 
 palaces where in the past kings, queens and states 
 men have lived and made history ! " 
 
 " Some very grim history, Signorina." 
 
 " You are jealous ! " 
 
 Mario laughed. " Perhaps, yet not of France, 
 but of His Highness, Prince Jean Marie." 
 
 She blushed under his glance. 
 
 " If you don t like the grim history, what of 
 the romance? Isn t it thrilling to see the places in 
 which the courtly cavaliers have loved and fought for 
 love?" 
 
 " I didn t know that you were so fond of adventure 
 and the heroic knights of old ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I am satiated with Dumas." 
 
 " Then I must renew my practice with the sword 
 and challenge the Prince de Bourbon to mortal com 
 bat. In olden days the lady fair bestowed her hand 
 upon the winning cavalier. Will you do the same? " 
 
 " I ll consider while you and the Prince are in 
 training." Her eyes brightened and she blushed 
 again. 
 
 " I ll begin to-morrow. But now, Signorina, what 
 has the Prince told you about the beauties of nature 
 to be found in France? Have his tales been only 
 of valor and bloodshed? " 
 
 " No. He has told me of his castle and the ro 
 mantically beautiful grounds surrounding it." 
 
 " That should not impress you so deeply. Look 
 at this lovely bower in which we are sitting. See 
 the gorgeous flowers before us. I ll wager his gar- 
 
THE FLAME 115 
 
 den is not so brilliant and beautiful as this. He 
 has been playing on your imagination with tales of 
 the past. I am going to give you a picture of Italy 
 as it is in the present, an indelible picture that nature 
 has made. I ll read from Byron because I don t 
 want the Prince to outwit me in poetical expression. 
 Now, lay down your sewing, put your mind in a re 
 ceptive state, and listen ! " 
 
 Gwendolyn laughed and complied. Resting her 
 head against the back of her chair, she closed her eyes 
 for a moment. 
 
 As Mario studied her sweet young beauty, the 
 color slowly rose to his face and a determined light 
 shone in his eyes. He would not let Jean Marie steal 
 this lovely, trusting girl and crush her. 
 
 She slowly opened her eyes and turning them, half 
 veiled by her long lashes, to Mario, said with a pretty 
 smile: 
 
 " I am ready." 
 
 He began in a low tone that was full of feeling : 
 
 * But my soul wanders ; I demand it back 
 To meditate amongst decay, and stand 
 A ruin amidst ruins; there to track 
 Fallen states and buried greatness, o er a land 
 Which was the mightiest in its old command, 
 And is the loveliest, and must ever be 
 The master-mould of Nature s heavenly hand, 
 Wherein were cast the heroic and the free, 
 The beautiful, the brave the lords of earth and 
 sea. 
 
 The commonwealth of kings, the men of Rome ! 
 And even since, and now, fair Italy ! 
 
116 THE FLAME 
 
 Thou art the garden of the world, the home 
 Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree; 
 Even in thy desert, what is like to thee? 
 Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste 
 More rich than other clime s fertility ; 
 Thy wreck of glory, and thy ruin graced 
 With an immaculate charm which cannot be de 
 faced/ " 
 
 Mario paused, but Gwendolyn did not speak. Her 
 eyes were closed; she had been drinking in not only 
 the exquisite poetry, but Mario s rich soft voice, 
 resonant with sincerity and strength. How different 
 it was from Jean Marie s voice ! There was nothing 
 light, debonair, suave in Cavarodossi s tone, nor did 
 he resort to any stage tricks of impressiveness. His 
 reading thrilled her. 
 
 He glanced up, and as she did not move, read on : 
 
 * The moon is up, and yet it is not night 
 Sunset divides the sky with her a sea 
 Of glory streams along the Alpine height 
 Of blue Friuli s mountains ; Heaven is free 
 From clouds, but of all colors seems to be 
 Melted to one vast Iris of the West, 
 Where the Day j oins the past Eternity ; 
 While, on the other hand, meek Diane s crest 
 Floats through the azure air an island of the 
 blest! 
 
 A single star is at her side, and reigns 
 With her o er half the lovely heaven ; but still 
 Yon sunny sea heaves brightly, and remains 
 Rolled o er the peak of the far Rhaetian hill, 
 As Day and Night contending were, until 
 
THE FLAME 117 
 
 Nature reclaimed her order : gently flows 
 The deep-dyed Brenta, where their hues instil 
 The odorous purple of a new-born rose, 
 Which streams upon her stream, and glassed with 
 in it glows, 
 
 Filled with the face of heaven, which, from afar 
 Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, 
 From the rich sunset to the rising star, 
 Their magical variety diffuse: 
 And now they change; a paler shadow strews 
 Its mantle o er the mountains; parting day 
 Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues 
 With a new color as it gasps away, 
 The last still loveliest, till tis gone and all 
 is gray/ " 
 
 He paused, and there was an impressive silence. 
 
 " Now, Signorina, whose plea is the abler, the 
 Prince de Bourbon s or Byron s?" he softly asked. 
 
 Gwendolyn quickly raised her head and looked at 
 him. 
 
 " Byron s," she said. 
 
 " Then Italy has conquered you ! " 
 
 She hesitated and shook her head. " The conquest 
 may not be complete." 
 
 " I, a Roman, defy France to subdue you ! " 
 
 The light in his eyes told ber that " France " was 
 Jean Marie. 
 
 " It will necessitate a visit to both countries be 
 fore the victor can be declared," she said, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, but I have no fear of Italy s power. Have 
 you seen Monsieur Feleki lately? " 
 
 " Not since the night you met him here." 
 
118 THE FLAME 
 
 " The night he told us the story of Diane Godin? " 
 
 " Yes, and I am sorry that he told it. Richard 
 said that it didn t seem to set well on the Prince, 
 and I thought he seemed uneasy and annoyed. Did 
 you? " She cast an anxious glance at Mario. 
 
 " Yes. To what did your brother attribute the 
 cause of his uneasiness ? " 
 
 Gwendolyn reddened and some moments passed 
 before she said: 
 
 " Richard thought that perhaps at some time he 
 had lived with the students in the Latin Quarter, 
 for amusement, of course," she quickly added, and 
 was annoyed because she had repeated a part of 
 Richard s accusations. 
 
 " That was exactly my opinion, Signorina." 
 Mario s tone was so serious and full of meaning, that 
 Gwendolyn paled and her trembling hands tightened 
 over the arms of her chair. 
 
 The butler came down the path, followed by Jean 
 Marie. Cavarodossi noticed that the Prince was es 
 corted into the garden without his card being first 
 presented to Gwendolyn. It was evidently under 
 stood that he was always welcome. 
 
 Jean Marie glanced sharply from Gwendolyn to 
 Mario. He saw her pallor and he thought that she 
 did not greet him with her accustomed cordiality. 
 Had Mario told her of Camille? Had Cavarodossi 
 learned that Camille was Diane Godin? For a mo 
 ment the Prince was staggered, but he quickly re 
 gained his debonair courtesy, and offering Gwendolyn 
 the large red rose he held, said with his most charm 
 ing air: 
 
THE FLAME 119 
 
 " I have brought you but one rose to-day, Made 
 moiselle, that you may study it and see how greatly 
 you resemble it in its fair perfection." He lightly 
 pressed her fingers as he gave her the rose, and as she 
 looked into his mild, admiring eyes, the color slowly 
 returned to her cheeks and she smiled. 
 
 But Mario believed that when she would be alone 
 his words would return to her and that the first seed 
 of distrust had been sown in her heart. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE day after Camille s meeting with Janos, she 
 was moody, irritable, and cold to Jean Marie. 
 He tried to please her, amuse her, but she would not 
 be coaxed into good humor. He stayed with her 
 until late in the afternoon, when he left to call on 
 Gwendolyn, but his finding Cavarodossi there made 
 the call most disagreeable. Richard arrived with 
 Janos and asked them all to remain for dinner, but 
 Jean Marie declined on the plea of an engagement, 
 and, leaving the field to his rival and the man he 
 feared, returned to spend an uncomfortable evening 
 with Camille. She was thoughtful,, petulant, des 
 perate by turns, and Jean Marie realized more than 
 ever the uncertain ground upon which he was stand 
 ing. One foot already had sunk into quicksand and 
 the other was slowly slipping. Camille s meeting 
 with Janos had made her more dangerous than be 
 fore, because it had aroused all the recklessness in 
 her nature, and Jean Marie knew that he must begin 
 again to win her. She complained, and wanted a 
 change of air and scene. It was not warm enough 
 in San Francisco, and the wind blew too briskly. 
 To please her, the Prince suggested that on the fol 
 lowing day they take a sail across the bay and go 
 to a pretty resort near San Rafael where they could 
 be served an excellent Italian dinner. Camille 
 
 120 
 
THE FLAME 121 
 
 agreed, and it was decided upon that they would 
 start in the morning and tour San Rafael and the 
 surrounding country in a motor-car before going 
 to their noon dinner. Jean Marie would ask Dubois 
 to accompany them. When the Prince left Camille s 
 apartment, he was more at ease, and believed that 
 their trip the next day would put her in a cheerful 
 state of mind. 
 
 When Camilla was alone, she sat still for a long 
 while, looking out before her, and only the changing 
 expression in her eyes told of the thoughts and pic 
 tures that were passing rapidly through her mind. 
 Presently her lips moved, but they formed only one 
 word, " Janos ! " Her muscles slowly tightened, and 
 suddenly, with a bound, she sprang from her chair 
 and stood rigid with her hands clasped tightly 
 over her breast, then gradually her muscles relaxed 
 and a quiver ran through her body. She went to 
 the piano, and let her hands stray over the keys, 
 improvising a strange, minor strain ; but presently 
 she began a well-remembered melody. It was one 
 of the favorite songs that she used to sing in the 
 Latin Quarter, with Feleki s accompaniment on the 
 violin. She sang several songs that had been dear 
 to them, but before she finished the last, her voice 
 broke with a tearless sob. 
 
 That Janos was lost to her, she knew in her inmost 
 heart, but the reckless desperation in her character, 
 her determination to surmount all obstacles and 
 break all oppositions, and the intensity of her love 
 for him, made her hope and battle against the inev 
 itable. She would have been Janos wife now had it 
 
122 THE FLAME 
 
 not been for Jean Marie, and a dangerous hatred 
 for the Prince rose in her heart. It was he who had 
 made her unworthy of Janos ; it was he who had en 
 ticed her, tempted her away from the one man she truly 
 loved, and her blood burned with hatred and revenge. 
 Jean Marie had not loved her, he had been proud 
 only of her beauty and of her voice and had tricked 
 and deceived her into believing that it was love. She 
 hated him! Reprisal was at hand. If he were try 
 ing to win Miss Rolfe, and Camille felt positive that 
 he was, she had it in her power to prevent him. He 
 had taken her from the Latin Quarter as his deluded 
 slave ; she would make him return to Paris, her ruined, 
 dishonored vassal. 
 
 All night, as she lay in her bed, that thought was 
 beating through her brain. 
 
 In the morning, Jean Marie arrived before Dubois. 
 As Camille came from her bedroom, he was standing 
 before a picture and did not see her. The hatred 
 in her heart became almost repulsion, and she shrank 
 back, feeling that she never again could touch him; 
 then, with a sudden force, she darted forward, and 
 throwing her arms about him, pressed an ardent kiss 
 upon his lips. 
 
 " Camille!" he exclaimed in a joyful tone, clasp 
 ing her in a close embrace. " You do love me ! I 
 feared that your affection was cooling." 
 
 "Why should it, Jean? You haven t changed." 
 
 He laughed lightly. " That is true, dear heart, 
 but sometimes our feelings change." 
 
 " Yes." She turned away, that he might not see 
 the light flickering in her eyes. 
 
THE FLAME 123 
 
 " You are radiant this morning. Did you have 
 pleasant dreams? " 
 
 She nodded and carelessly smiled. 
 
 Dubois arrived, beaming and jovial. 
 
 " Ah, Mademoiselle is magnificent in her white 
 gown and blue automobile veil, but Mademoiselle is 
 magnificent in everything. Nature has showered all 
 her gifts upon you." 
 
 " You would have me believe that I am the most 
 beautiful woman in the world." Camille playfully 
 struck him under the chin with a pink carnation. 
 
 Dubois was visibly flustered at her familiarity and 
 cast a sly glance at Jean Marie, fearing that his 
 jealousy might be aroused, but the Prince was happy 
 and smiling, so Dubois beamed still more. 
 
 Jean Marie glanced at his jeweled watch. "We 
 had better be going," he said, " or we ll lose the 
 boat." 
 
 As they went down the street for a car, Dubois 
 tripped gaily at Camille s side, feeling his impor 
 tance and the privilege of being the escort of so rare 
 a beauty. Sailing across the bay, he was still more 
 flustered, because Camille was gazed at and com 
 mented upon by every passenger. Jean Marie in his 
 pearl-gray suit, panama hat and slender, gold-crooked 
 cane also attracted attention, because he showed his 
 aristocratic distinction. Thero was a dainty court 
 esy and an innate refinement about the Prince that 
 never failed to excite notice, and Dubois was wafted 
 to a state of extravagant joy. His little round eyes 
 were dancing with delight and his affability was in 
 dulged to the extreme. 
 
124 THE FLAME 
 
 When they reached the station at San Rafael, an 
 automobile was awaiting them. They motored 
 around the town over the various roads abounding 
 with picturesque rustic scenery, and shortly after 
 the noon hour arrived at Pastori s Villa, a popular 
 and beautiful resort at Fairfax, a short distance from 
 San Rafael. 
 
 Camille was charmed with the beauty of the place, 
 and in the sweet, mesmerizing air, the revenge and 
 hatred that had been rife in her heart, calmed, and 
 she rejoiced in the loveliness of her surroundings. 
 She delighted in the cool, murmuring ravine spanned 
 by a rustic bridge, in the wealth of radiant flowers 
 growing round the villa, and she was happy as she 
 had not believed she could be that day. She felt 
 a return of the youth and joy fulness that had been 
 one of her greatest charms as a girl, and she wanted 
 to express her gaiety in a burst of song. There was 
 no one present but Jean Marie, Dubois, and the 
 hostess, and she let her voice flow out with a rich 
 abandonment and volume that surprised even herself. 
 While their dinner was being prepared, she played 
 some brilliant melodies on the piano, standing on the 
 wide veranda of the house. Jean Marie sat near, 
 studying her vivacity and dashing charm, and he ex 
 perienced a new thrill in her presence and in the 
 fervid love he believed she felt for him. Gwendolyn 
 did not exist during these intoxicating moments. 
 The spell of his first infatuation for Camille was 
 tingling through his veins with renewed ardor. He 
 believed that he had never cared for her as now. 
 
 Dubois saw Jean Marie s intoxication, and he ap- 
 
THE FLAME 125 
 
 plauded and praised Camilla, that the flame in the 
 Prince s eyes might burn brighter. 
 
 Presently she stopped playing and began looking 
 round the grounds. She noticed a platform built 
 high above the ground, in a large tree, where dinner 
 could be served, and suggested that they eat up 
 there; so they climbed up the steps and seated them 
 selves round the table. The hostess told them that 
 when Pietro Mascagni was in San Francisco he vis 
 ited her villa and ate his dinner up in this tree at 
 this very same table. Thereupon, with a stirring 
 toast, they drank to the composer s health, and were 
 in such genial spirits that they were ready to toast 
 anyone whose name might be mentioned. 
 
 " This is a memorable day," said Dubois, resting 
 his pudgy hands on the edge of the table, and glan 
 cing from Camille to Jean Marie. " It is one we ll 
 never forget." 
 
 " So you are in the habit of forgetting the hours 
 you spend with me ! " exclaimed Camille. " I always 
 have said that you are an arch flatterer." 
 
 " You misunderstand me, divine Mademoiselle." 
 Dubois quickly raised a protesting hand. " Every 
 hour I am with you is remembered, but it is 
 inevitable that some hours must be sweeter than 
 others." 
 
 Camille laughed and shook her finger at him. 
 
 " You are a peerless cavalier, Dubois," said Jean 
 Marie, emptying a glass of wine and enjoying his 
 dinner. " You are steeped in sweet words." 
 
 " It is Mademoiselle who inspires them. She is a 
 true diva." 
 
126 THE FLAME 
 
 " Do you really think me a goddess ? " Camille 
 flashed him a vanquishing glance. 
 
 " Yes, and as graceful, fleet and beautiful as 
 Diana, goddess of the moon, of music, dancing and 
 the chase. You are so lithe and sprightly that you 
 should be called Diana." 
 
 The youthful joy in Camille s eyes shriveled and 
 died, and the artful gleam of the corrupt woman re 
 appeared. Her voice had the careless wave of a 
 popular cafe chanson when she said : 
 
 " Yes, I love the name. I had rather be Diana 
 than anyone else." 
 
 A stiff smile curved Jean Marie s lips. 
 
 " Then let me christen you." Dubois daintily 
 dipped his finger-tips into his glass and snapped a 
 drop of wine on her hair. 
 
 Camille caught his fingers and pressed them. 
 
 " I don t need to be christened again." She 
 laughed unsteadily. 
 
 " Isn t this a charming place ! " Dubois said, lean 
 ing back in his chair and looking round. " There 
 are many beautiful spots in California. It is, in 
 deed, a golden country." 
 
 " I wish I could find a little of the gold." Ca 
 mille s eyes rested on Dubois. " I am going to re 
 mind vou of the promise you made to find me posi 
 tions to sing in private homes. My money will soon 
 be exhausted if I don t begin work soon. This life 
 as a lady of leisure is more agreeable than profita 
 ble." 
 
 " I must apologize for any negligence," said Du 
 bois. " I confess that I haven t yet spoken to any- 
 
THE FLAME 127 
 
 one about you, and I saw Mr. Rolfe this morning, 
 too ! " 
 
 Camille glanced at Jean Marie, who continued eat 
 ing without looking up. A faint smile crossed her 
 lips. 
 
 " That would be a splendid home in which to make 
 my debut, but I am not particular; any rich family 
 will do to introduce me, and I know that you are ac 
 quainted with many influential people." 
 
 Dubois sat pompously erect. " You may be sure, 
 Mademoiselle, that I will use whatever influence I 
 have. Oh, by the way! Has Your Highness heard 
 the news ? " 
 
 " I couldn t say. There is a quantity of news to 
 hear." A tinge of sarcasm was in Jean Marie s 
 tone, but Dubois was too unsuspecting to perceive 
 it. He always delighted in repeating some startling 
 report. 
 
 " Cavarodossi has been paying marked attention 
 to Miss Rolfe for some time, and I heard last night 
 that she appears to favor him and that he has her 
 brother s approval." 
 
 "Miss Rolfe in love with Cavarodossi? This is, 
 indeed, news to me ! " 
 
 The sneering sarcasm in Jean Marie s voice was 
 now so apparent that Dubois could not mistake it, 
 and he glanced up with uneasiness. He had not 
 heard that the Prince was paying court to her, and 
 he could not understand Jean Marie s displeasure. 
 
 " Of course it is only rumor," he hastened to say. 
 
 Jean Marie caught Camille s sharp, sidelong 
 glance, and he returned with assumed indifference : 
 
128 T H E F L A M E 
 
 " Perhaps it is true. Cavarodossi is a good fel 
 low. She could do much worse." 
 
 Camille laughed lightly. " She should offer her 
 hand with the fifty millions in it to Your Highness. 
 That wouldn t be bad." 
 
 Jean Marie coldly frowned. 
 
 " I am not in need of money." 
 
 "No? I am glad to hear it!" The glance Ca 
 mille shot him was full of insolent meaning, and 
 Jean Marie s lips tightened and hot blood rose to his 
 cheeks. 
 
 Dubois realized that he had made a mistake, and 
 during the remainder of the dinner exerted himself 
 to keep up the conversation that was rather flagging 
 than brilliant. 
 
 After the meal was finished, they came down from 
 the tree and walked round the grounds. Jean Marie 
 had regained his good humor, and Camille began to 
 jest with Dubois. 
 
 " Suppose we take the automobile and visit the 
 country around, instead of remaining here all the 
 afternoon," the Prince suggested. " There are many 
 more beautiful points to see." 
 
 " Yes, let us go," agreed Camille. " We have 
 seen everything here." She went back to the ve 
 randa to get her coat and veil, and the two men fol 
 lowed her. 
 
 Jean Marie lit a cigarette, and after offering his 
 match to Dubois, turned and glanced at Camille. 
 Her face was white and her eyes were glittering like 
 two burning stars as they were fastened on the path 
 leading from the entrance of the grounds. 
 
THE FLAME 129 
 
 Jean Marie swung round and caught his breath. 
 Coming up the path were Gwendolyn, Miss Morris, 
 Feleki and Cavarodossi. The Prince was trapped 
 without a way of escape. 
 
 Dubois gasped a faint, " Oh ! " 
 
 " There is the Prince de Bourbon 1 " Gwendolyn 
 gaily exclaimed. He was standing in front of Ca- 
 mille and at first she barely noticed the singer, but 
 Cavarodossi and Feleki saw her and abruptly halted. 
 They were now no more than twenty feet from the 
 veranda. Neither Jean Marie nor Dubois moved. 
 
 " Let us go in here," said Feleki in a muffled tone 
 of suppressed excitement. He took Gwendolyn by 
 the arm and started towards one of the tented din 
 ing-rooms above the ravine. 
 
 The look of astonishment, annoyance, wonder that 
 flashed into Gwendolyn s face, told Jean Marie that 
 he must make a bold attempt to straighten the situa 
 tion, or Gwendolyn was lost to him. 
 
 " This is a surprise and a pleasure ! " he said, 
 stepping lightly off the veranda and going towards 
 them followed by Dubois* who wore a rather ghastly 
 smile. 
 
 Gwendolyn s eyes were fixed on Camille. She did 
 not understand this type of woman, but she knew that 
 something w r as wrong. 
 
 Camille stood still with her arms half raised, hold 
 ing her long blue veil as though she had been sud 
 denly transfixed when in the act of tossing the veil 
 over her hat. Her head was slightly thrown back, 
 her drooping lashes partly shading her glowing eyes, 
 and her red, sensuous lips were curved in a smile that 
 
130 THE FLAME 
 
 was amused, triumphant, sarcastic. As Jean Marie 
 left her, she slowly turned from Gwendolyn. Her 
 eyes followed the Prince, and the look of ownership 
 that flared into them was more expressive than words. 
 
 Jean Marie was at Gwendolyn s side. She took 
 his extended hand, but did not speak. Her voice 
 froze on her lips. 
 
 " It is odd that we all should have come to the 
 same place for an outing," said Dubois, trying unsuc 
 cessfully to throw a light touch into his tone. He 
 was fidgety and most uncomfortable. 
 
 66 It is an unexpected meeting," said Cavarodossi. 
 " Are you leaving? " 
 
 " Yes, we have just finished dinner," answered Jean 
 Marie. " You should dine up in that tree. It is a 
 most romantic and lovely spot." 
 
 Gwendolyn glanced from Camille to Jean Marie. 
 What was this woman that he did not introduce her? 
 Who was she, that she dared look at him with such 
 indisputable proprietorship? Gwendolyn was trem 
 bling with nervous excitement. Camille s eyes lashed 
 her, and she shrank from them. Turning to Cavaro 
 dossi, she rested her hand on his arm. 
 
 " Let us go and sit down in the shade," she said, 
 while the others were speaking. " I am tired and 
 warm." 
 
 They were in the shade already. Cavarodossi 
 gave her a quick glance. 
 
 " You must be hungry. I am." He was anxious 
 to move away, because he feared the look that was 
 rising in Feleki s eyes. 
 
 " Don t let us detain you," said Jean Marie with 
 
THE FLAME 131 
 
 a courtly bow. " We ll say good-by." He shook 
 hands again with Gwendolyn and Miss Morris, and 
 he and Dubois turned to the veranda. 
 
 The hostess of the villa appeared and greeted Mario 
 and his friends. Jean Marie took this occasion to 
 leave. 
 
 Camille was at the Prince s side, walking with a 
 regal air. She did not once look at Janos, but as 
 she passed the others, she gave Gwendolyn a sharp 
 glance and her eyes were brilliant and challenging. 
 
 " I have forgotten my parasol," she said, sweetly. 
 " It is on the veranda. Will you get it, Jean ? " 
 
 Cavarodossi had Gwendolyn s arm, and he felt her 
 muscles tighten with a jerk as the woman familiarily 
 called the Prince by his Christian name. 
 
 Jean Marie, red and angry, went back. As he re 
 turned, and passed Gwendolyn, he bowed, but he 
 could not force a smile. 
 
 " Who is that woman ? " kept hammering through 
 Gwendolyn s mind. " Who is she, that he will not 
 introduce her? " She turned on Cavarodossi with 
 desperate eyes, and asked, " Who is she? " 
 
 But Mario, apparently not hearing, began to tell 
 the hostess of several Italian dishes that he especially 
 wished. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 afternoon at Pastori s was long and disa- 
 A greeable for Gwendolyn. Camille s glowing, 
 commanding beauty was ever present in her mind. 
 The look of indisputable ownership that Camille had 
 given the Prince and the carelessly sweet way in 
 which she had called him, " Jean," was a thorn that 
 did not cease aggravating Gwendolyn s jealousy and 
 mistrust. She failed in her attempt to appear light- 
 hearted, that the others might not understand her 
 feelings. Cavarodossi watched her almost inces 
 santly, but the sympathy he felt was not visible in his 
 eyes. He was glad of this meeting, because he knew 
 it would stimulate her suspicion of Jean Marie. 
 
 Gwendolyn saw that Feleki was greatly perturbed 
 by this meeting, and she was puzzled. He had no 
 obvious reason to be affected by Jean Marie s pres 
 ence. Did Janos know this woman? If so, why 
 should he be stirred? There was some mystery she 
 could not fathom. She wished the afternoon would 
 end, and she also wished that Miss Morris was not 
 there. She wanted to question Feleki, but he kept 
 close to her friend. Did he suspect? 
 
 Gwendolyn decided that she would invite Janos 
 to go home with her and let Cavarodossi be Miss 
 Morris s escort, but in this she was baffled. Feleki 
 
 said Miss Morris had told him of a violin that one 
 
 132 
 
THE FLAME 133 
 
 of her ancestors had made and he was interested in 
 it and was going home with her to see it. Was his 
 interest real, or had he again suspected Gwendolyn s 
 intention ? 
 
 She had a vague fear of something, but she did not 
 know of what. A new feeling rose in her heart for 
 Cavarodossi, a feeling that he would help her and 
 protect her from this unknown fear. She felt safe 
 with him, knowing that his honesty could be de 
 pended upon. She never would meet him in com 
 pany with a woman like the one with Jean Marie, and 
 such a woman never would take the liberty of calling 
 Cavarodossi by his Christian name in such a caress 
 ing, familiar tone. Of this she was certain. 
 
 While they were crossing the bay on their return 
 to San Francisco, Feleki conversed animatedly with 
 Miss Morris, but Gwendolyn was quiet and thought 
 ful. Once, after she had been silent a long while, she 
 suddenly laid a trembling hand on Cavarodossi s arm 
 and looked up into his face with appealing eyes in 
 which tears slowly gathered. Mario did not touch 
 her hand, but said with an encouraging smile that he 
 loved San Francisco Bay next to the Bay of Naples. 
 Gwendolyn mastered her tears and was grateful that 
 he did not or would not understand. She quickly 
 answered in a light but unnatural tone, and Cavaro 
 dossi spoke on every subject that he thought might 
 calm her turbulent feelings. 
 
 " You will come home with me and remain for 
 dinner, won t you? " she asked him, as they were 
 leaving the boat. 
 
 " Yes, thank you." 
 
THE FLAME 
 
 " You never refuse to come on the plea of an en 
 gagement," Gwendolyn said half to herself, thinking 
 of Jean Marie s declination to remain to dinner the 
 night before. 
 
 " No, I am always at liberty when you wish me." 
 
 There was no love in his voice ; it was only courtesy 
 and friendship, but it rang with a truth that was 
 sweet to hear. 
 
 Richard was at home when they arrived, and he 
 greeted Mario with a hearty handshake, saying: 
 
 " I am glad you have come. A man will be here 
 to-night to see me on business, and now Gwendolyn 
 won t be left alone." 
 
 Mario rested grateful eyes on him. " I sincerely 
 appreciate your friendship," he said. 
 
 " Yes, I like you, and so does my sister, but, hang 
 it all, that Prince de Bourbon Ah, Gwendolyn, 
 you look rosy and charming after your trip across 
 the bay. You must take her again, Cavarodossi." 
 
 Gwendolyn came into the room, smiling and ap 
 parently happy, because she dared not show her feel 
 ings in the presence of her keen brother. 
 
 During dinner Richard was attentive to Cavaro 
 dossi and in every way showed Gwendolyn the differ 
 ence in his feeling for him and Jean Marie. They 
 took their black coffee in the conservatory. Soon 
 afterward the man arrived to see Richard, and Gwen 
 dolyn was left alone with Mario. He talked of Italy, 
 flowers, the opera, of everything but their trip to 
 Pastori s and the meeting with Jean Marie. But at 
 the first lull in the conversation, she said, resting her 
 troubled, innocent eyes on him: 
 
THE FLAME 135 
 
 " What kind of a woman was that with the Prince 
 de Bourbon to-day? " 
 
 He answered without hesitation: " She is a cafe 
 singer from Paris." 
 
 Gwendolyn caught a quick breath. " A cafe 
 singer? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Do you know her ? " 
 
 " Yes. Monsieur Dubois introduced me." 
 
 " Then she is his friend and not the Prince s ? " 
 
 " I cannot say." Cavarodossi rose and went to 
 one of the long windows and stood looking out into 
 the dark. 
 
 The relieved look that had come into Gwendolyn s 
 eyes died as she watched him, and a modest blush rose 
 to her cheek when she hesitatingly asked : 
 
 " Is she is she a good woman ? " 
 
 Mario slowly turned towards her. " I cannot 
 say," he repeated. 
 
 " You didn t speak to her." 
 
 " She didn t speak to me." 
 
 Gwendolyn hesitated. " Is she a woman you would 
 take for a friend? " 
 
 " No," after a hesitation. 
 
 The color faded from her face. " Be frank with 
 me ! " she pleaded. " What is the woman ? " 
 
 " I have no proof against her, Signorina. There 
 are many good women whom the world calls bad." 
 
 Gwendolyn did not answer, but presently she 
 asked : 
 
 " Does Monsieur Feleki know her ? He seemed 
 nervous after our meeting with them." 
 
136 THE FLAME 
 
 " I cannot answer for him. Pardon me." 
 
 " There is something you will not tell." Her voice 
 trembled. 
 
 Mario was silent a moment, then said feelingly: 
 
 " It would be better for you to speak to the Prince 
 de Bourbon. He can answer many questions that I 
 cannot." 
 
 " Forgive me. I should not have questioned you 
 at all, but I knew that you would tell me the truth 
 concerning this woman." 
 
 The faith in her tone was heavenly music to Cavaro- 
 dossi and he took a quick step towards her, then 
 halted. 
 
 " I cannot thank you enough for your trust in 
 me," he said with suppressed feeling. " If you are 
 not satisfied with the Prince de Bourbon s explana 
 tion, I beg of you to let me know." 
 
 Gwendolyn looked up into his face with frightened 
 eyes. 
 
 " Then there is more than you are willing to 
 tell ! " 
 
 He did not answer, because Richard entered. 
 
 " I rid myself of the man quicker than I ex 
 pected," he said gaily. " Now, come into the music- 
 room, Mario, and sing me an operatic aria so that I 
 shall forget this humdrum business." 
 
 Cavarodossi graciously complied, but he went home 
 early, because he knew that Gwendolyn preferred to 
 be alone with her trouble. His heart ached for her, 
 yet he was happy in the belief that this would mean 
 the end of Jean Marie s supremacy. But would 
 Gwendolyn in her youth and innocence be tricked and 
 
THE FLAME 137 
 
 won again by this experienced, sweet-tongued de 
 ceiver? 
 
 On the following day, early in the afternoon, Jean 
 Marie sauntered with a fagging gait to Gwendolyn s 
 home. He had rather been going to any other place 
 on earth, but he knew that prompt action was his 
 only hope. He had invented several stories to re 
 late in his defense, but the nearer he drew to the RolfV 
 home, the more impossible they seemed. He won 
 dered if Feleld or Cavarodossi had made an expla 
 nation for him. He would soon know, for if either 
 had, Gwendolyn would refuse to see him. He tried 
 to forget his precarious position and force his 
 thoughts to dwell upon pleasant things, that he might 
 be at ease and certain of himself when he would 
 meet Gwendolyn, but harmony was far from him. 
 He had had a stormy scene with Camille in which she 
 had been victorious, because Jean Marie was abso 
 lutely within her power, and she had pointedly re 
 minded him of it. As he went slowly up the steps 
 of the Rolfe home, he had a presentiment that all 
 was over between Gwendolyn and himself, but the 
 thought of her fifty million dollars made his blood 
 surge through him with the determination to win her 
 again. He never could return to Paris without 
 money, and this was the largest fortune within his 
 reach. 
 
 The butler ushered him into the music-room, where 
 Gwendolyn was practicing on the piano. 
 
 She rose and stood rigid, looking him full in the 
 eyes. 
 
138 THE FLAME 
 
 He was wise enough to understand that his usual 
 complimentary greeting would ruffle her still more, 
 so he went forward with a smile and a courtly bow. 
 
 " I am glad that I have found you," he simply 
 said. " I felt all the way here that you were not at 
 home." 
 
 Gwendolyn still looked at him as though she were 
 reading his inmost thoughts. The soft violet color 
 ing seemed to have faded from her mottled eyes, leav 
 ing only the cold gray. 
 
 " You are angry with me," he said, after a slight 
 pause, " and not without reason. I regret the com 
 pany you found me in yesterday. It was an act most 
 unworthy of Monsieur Dubois." 
 
 Gwendolyn raised her finely curved brows. " Why 
 do you blame him? " she coldly asked. 
 
 " Because it was his fault. He is a friend of the 
 Frenchwoman s, and when he asked me to go to Pas- 
 tori s, I didn t know that she was to be with us." 
 
 Gwendolyn did not answer at once, but sat again 
 on the piano stool, and Jean Marie took a chair be 
 side her. 
 
 " She is Monsieur Dubois s friend, not yours ? " 
 she asked, half turning her head away. 
 
 Her tone had softened and hope rose in his heart. 
 
 " Yes," he quickly said. " She has been in this 
 city but two or three weeks, and Dubois introduced 
 me to her." 
 
 " Have you met her many times ? " 
 
 " No ; perhaps three or four." 
 
 Gwendolyn slowly turned back to him and her eyes 
 looked into his very steadily. 
 
T H E F L A M E 139 
 
 " Then, if you are almost strangers, how could she 
 take the liberty of calling you Jean ? " 
 
 The Prince reddened. What had Cavarodossi told 
 her? What had Feleki revealed? He was in a des 
 perate situation that no explanation could straighten. 
 Her eyes were resting on him with a sort of painful 
 challenge, and his blood began to beat at his temples. 
 He must have her. The money was necessary to 
 him. He knew that his next words would seal his 
 fate. From the look she gave him, he understood 
 that she did not believe his lies. He would throw 
 himself upon her mercy, her generosity, as he should 
 have done at first, but even now he could not tell her 
 the truth. During the short pause, he had lowered 
 his eyes, but now he raised them full of well-feigned 
 misery, and when he spoke, his voice was tremulous 
 with repentance and shame. 
 
 " Forgive me for being so weak and cowardly as 
 not to have told you the truth. No, my acquaint 
 ance with this woman is not recent. I met her five 
 years ago in Paris," he was cautious not to make 
 the years coincide with Feleki s story, " and she was 
 then what she is now, a public singer. I knew that 
 she was not the woman with whom I should associate, 
 but I was led on, not only by her dashing beauty and 
 her fascination, but by the friends with whom I was 
 intimate who knew her. They were wealthy, idle, 
 and thought it an honor to be flattered and petted by 
 the favorites of the night life. They were vain, not 
 bad, and, believe me, neither was I. My father had 
 been very strict with me, and after his death, I felt 
 the wild freedom of a liberated prisoner, and in- 
 
140 THE FLAME 
 
 dulged in many absurd frivolities that soon lost their 
 glamour. I was not long realizing the hollowness of 
 a Bohemian life. My uncle, the Due de Castelnau, 
 is an estimable man and always has been my dearest 
 friend and adviser. He took me away from this life 
 and made me see the nothingness of it, before it was 
 too late. I never loved this singer, I could not, for 
 love is a sacred thing, but I was intoxicated with her 
 brilliant charms and she knew how to play upon 
 one s vanity. Our acquaintance was only a foolish 
 flirtation. I didn t tell you this at first, because I 
 was ashamed to own that such a woman ever attracted 
 me. You are so sweet and pure that I feared losing 
 your esteem. Most men have an absurd little his 
 tory in their misguided youth, but I wanted to hide 
 mine from you, fearing that you would not under 
 stand that it didn t have a serious effect upon me nor 
 leave a taint on my life. Can you forgive me? " 
 
 The fervid, humble appeal in his voice and the 
 pleading anguish in his eyes beguiled Gwendolyn, 
 and she believed that he was sincere. He had owned 
 his faults as she thought no wicked man would ; and 
 was it not natural that he should now be ashamed 
 and try to hide his folly if he could? Had not she 
 many Limes in her simple life been thrown into temp 
 tation s path, but, of course, in a very different 
 way? How great must be the evil and enticements 
 following a man in Jean Marie s high position and 
 one with his gentle, attractive manner ! Yes, she was 
 certain as she looked into his eyes that his folly had 
 left no taint upon his life. The magnetism and fas 
 cination of his presence stole over her like a soothing 
 
THE FLAME 141 
 
 drug. The shadow of a smile crossed her lips as she 
 thought of the fright she had received. Undoubt 
 edly Cavarodossi knew this story, but did he believe 
 her too simple, too bloodless, to understand how 
 such a glowing woman would attract a man carried 
 away with the impulses of liberated youth? 
 
 Jean Marie, with a throbbing heart, saw the light 
 softening in her face and he knew that he had de 
 ceived her. 
 
 " Can you forgive me ! " he repeated, and his voice 
 vibrated with emotion, from which he crushed his ex 
 ultant joy. 
 
 " Why have you seen her here ? " she gently re 
 buked. " You should not have done so." 
 
 " I accidentally met her one day with Monsieur Du- 
 bois, and, as she did not betray our former acquaint 
 ance, I greeted her as a stranger and have called on 
 her three times at Monsieur Dubois s invitation, but 
 only when he was present and Signer Cavarodossi, 
 upon whom I did not wish to intrude. 
 Here again I was foolish. I should have told Dubois 
 my little story and then kept away, but shame held 
 me back. I didn t want him to know that I ever 
 had been weak enough to let this woman enthrall 
 me." 
 
 A puzzled look came over Gwendolyn s face. How 
 did Cavarodossi know, and why had he called upon 
 this singer so often? What had there been in his 
 manner towards the woman that had made Jean Marie 
 feel himself an intruder? 
 
 The Prince, with quick perception, discerned her 
 perplexity and surmised that either Feleki or Cav- 
 
142 THE FLAME 
 
 arodossi, if the latter had learned the Prince s his 
 tory, had insinuated some mystery to Gwendolyn. 
 He did not wait for her to question him, but promptly 
 said, with a faint smile of self-disgust: 
 
 " I have been wondering if the woman has tricked 
 me and told my little story to Dubois. It would be 
 like her. She delights in ridiculing the men who 
 have slipped away from her enchantment." Jean 
 Marie thoughtfully paused and added with a shrug: 
 " Well, I deserve the ridiculing. * As ye sow, so 
 shall ye reap. Surely that is true." 
 
 Gwendolyn s expression cleared. Cavarodossi must 
 have heard of the flirtation from the woman and no 
 doubt she had made it more serious than it really had 
 been. She felt a sudden pride that Jean Marie had 
 confided to her what he would not disclose to the 
 others. 
 
 " Am I forgiven, Mademoiselle? " the Prince asked 
 with timid humiliation, but without giving her time to 
 answer, he dropped on his knees before her and seiz 
 ing her hand, covered it with impassioned kisses. 
 " Gwendolyn, listen to me, I beg ! I am kneeling be 
 fore you a humble penitent. If at a time in the past 
 my life was not blameless as it should have been, my 
 heart has remained untouched by an evil impulse. I 
 know that since my father s death I have been selfish 
 and worthless, my only desires being for amusement. 
 I have not lived to ennoble myself and benefit others. 
 It did not suggest itself to me that I could be use 
 ful. Not until I met you did I realize the worthless- 
 ness of my existence. In the light of your beautiful 
 soul, my soul has expanded. Every glance of faith 
 
THE FLAME 143 
 
 and trust with which you have favored me has awak 
 ened a new virtue in my heart. The glory of your 
 purity and nobleness has shed upon me a helpful 
 radiance that will forever be the guiding inspiration 
 of my life. I love you ! I love you ! " 
 
 He bowed in reverence. He knew that he had used 
 the strongest plea a man can use to a woman, 
 that her nobility had not only reclaimed a sinner, but 
 had set a man into the way of a man. He felt her 
 hand trembling; he had seen the happiness in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he continued, " Gwendolyn, tell 
 me if I am loved even with half the passion I feel for 
 you." He looked up into her lovely, pure face with 
 pleading, ardent eyes. 
 
 His fervor, the love in his voice, thrilled her and 
 awakened a new emotion. She was drawn to him and 
 held by a stronger feeling than she ever had known 
 before. Timidly her hand went out to him and she 
 murmured, " Yes, I love you ! " 
 
 With a low exclamation of joy and victory, Jean 
 Marie rose, and drawing her to her feet, clasped her 
 in his arms. Her fair head rested shyly on his 
 breast and her arm stole round his neck. He pressed 
 a kiss upon her blushing cheek. Somehow he dared 
 not touch her lips. 
 
 " Gwendolyn, my love ! " he fervently said. " What 
 have I ever done to be so blessed! I have tried in 
 vain to stifle my love for you, believing that you, dear 
 angel, would never care for me." 
 
 " Don t humble and censure yourself, Jean," she 
 murmured. 
 
144 THEFLAME 
 
 " How sweet it is to hear you say my Christian 
 name! Ah, Gwendolyn, can you realize the happi 
 ness that lies before us? What pride I shall feel in 
 presenting to my uncle and my friends a peerless 
 woman that queens will envy! My castle shall have 
 a mistress more than worthy of its ancient name. 
 My uncle will be overjoyed, and I hope that your 
 brother will favor me." 
 
 Gwendolyn quickly drew away, rousing from the 
 spell he had cast over her. 
 
 " No," she said, hurriedly, gazing at him with 
 startled eyes. " No, he doesn t care for you now. 
 Oh, Jean ! " Tears rose in her eyes and trembled on 
 her long lashes. She believed in the Prince, yet she 
 felt timid and uncomfortable. " We cannot tell 
 Richard yet. He never would give his consent, and 
 I cannot marry without it. You must win him, 
 Jean." A half-stifled sob broke from her lips. 
 
 Jean Marie slipped a protecting arm round her 
 waist. " Don t fear, dearest. Such love as ours 
 cannot be in vain. Your brother will care for me as 
 I esteem him. Can t I give you an engagement 
 ring?" 
 
 " No, not yet. Richard would notice it and ques 
 tion me. It is best to wait." 
 
 Jean Marie was very thankful for this, because he 
 did not have two or three hundred dollars to spare, 
 and he was glad to postpone as long as possible the 
 evil day of plunging himself more in debt, but he 
 sighed with befitting sadness. 
 
 " As you wish, dear," he said. " Happiness never 
 
THE FLAME 145 
 
 comes without a little pain. My pride and love are 
 so great that I would proclaim my joy from the 
 housetops, but I yield to your good judgment." 
 
 He stayed with her over an hour longer and learned 
 that her going to Pastori s had been only an unfor 
 tunate accident and not a trick of Cavarodossi s, as 
 he had half believed. He had thought that perhaps 
 Mario had met Dubois, and learning that he was 
 going to the resort with the Prince and Camille, had 
 decided to take Gwendolyn, that they might meet. 
 But she told him that at dinner the night before 
 Richard had suggested a trip to San Rafael and 
 Cavarodossi had invited them to Pastori s. Richard 
 had intended to accompany them, but at the last mo 
 ment business kept him at home. Jean Marie con 
 gratulated himself on his fortunate escape, knowing 
 that Richard never would be duped. His thankful 
 ness threw a new ardor into his voice, and his sweet 
 words, his tenderness, the pictures he drew of his 
 romantic life with Gwendolyn, wove a fascinating 
 web over her and she listened to him like one en 
 tranced. His love and the life he pictured were like 
 a poetic novel and she could hardly believe that such 
 sentiment and romance could exist in this modern, 
 prosaic age. He bewitched her so that she forgot all 
 else but him and his gentle, soft voice. 
 
 But when he left and the door closed behind him, 
 the charm broke. She stood still in the middle of the 
 room and a strange terror stole over her. What had 
 she done? Promised her life to this man of whom 
 she knew nothing but what he himself had told. 
 
146 THE FLAME 
 
 Richard disliked him and believed him an unprinci 
 pled fortune-hunter. Cavarodossi was suspicious of 
 him . . . Cavarodossi! 
 
 She caught a quick breath. ^Was he as true as 
 Jean Marie? He had told her that he would not 
 take such a woman for a friend, yet he often called 
 upon her. What a whirlpool of emotions was surg 
 ing within her 1 What doubts, what fears ! But 
 Cavarodossi s noble face rose before her and she 
 could see in his honorable, fearless eyes, a grieved re 
 proach for her folly. A frightened little cry broke 
 from her lips. Suppose Jean Marie had not told 
 her the truth concerning this cafe singer. Suppose 
 there had been more than a harmless flirtation be 
 tween them, and that the singer had not been the only 
 woman with whom he had trifled. This would make 
 him a polluted man, and she had promised her life to 
 him! A shudder ran through her, and staggering 
 forward, she fell into a chair and covered her face 
 with her trembling hands. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE following day was Gwendolyn s birthday, 
 and Jean Marie, elated over the vast fortune 
 he considered as good as won, invited Gwendolyn, 
 Miss Morris, Richard and Cavarodossi to dine with 
 him at the Fairmont and then go to hear the first 
 presentation in America of Mascagni s opera, 
 " Amico Fritz." The Prince was exceedingly gra 
 cious to Richard, who kept himself serenely and smil 
 ingly aloof, as he always did when with Jean Marie, 
 but with scornful amusement he noticed the Prince s 
 added attention. 
 
 Cavarodossi studied Gwendolyn with surprise and 
 concern. How was it that she was merrier than 
 usual to-night and that every glance she gave Jean 
 Marie was full of a secret caress? Had the Prince 
 deceived her, or was she pretending to be deceived? 
 Cavarodossi was most uncomfortable. He never had 
 seen Jean Marie more self-satisfied and entertain 
 ing. 
 
 From Gwendolyn s happy manner, no one could 
 have guessed that she had passed a wretched, sleepless 
 night. A multitude of fears had tormented her, but 
 when the morning had dawned and the sun had crept 
 into her room, it had brought courage with it, and 
 she realized that her engagement was known only to 
 
 herself and Jean Marie, and that she could break it 
 
 147 
 
148 THE FLAME 
 
 if any of her fears and Richard s proved true. In 
 the afternoon she received some flowers from Jean 
 Marie and a pretty note in which he called her his 
 sun goddess, whose golden hair, rivaling the sun 
 beams, was the radiant light that made his life one 
 bright, eternal day. She was thrilled again by his 
 sentiment and the deep love he expressed, and now 
 as she sat beside him at the dinner table, she felt the 
 fascination of his presence and the enchantment of 
 his ardent eyes. This Prince belonged to her. This 
 man upon whom all eyes were turned with interest 
 and admiration when he had entered the dining-room, 
 loved her alone ! She had won him when women far 
 more brilliant than herself had failed ! The color in 
 her cheeks brightened, and her eyes glowed with 
 happy pride. 
 
 Richard, as well as Cavarodossi, wondered at her 
 merriment and was not only displeased, but uneasy, 
 for he could see without a doubt that the Prince was 
 stealing her heart. He wished that Cavarodossi 
 would make bolder advances, believing that Mario 
 loved his sister. 
 
 All the evening, Jean Marie kept close to Gwen 
 dolyn, and in the motor-car, on the way to the thea 
 ter, he sat beside her and in every way was a most 
 attentive and exquisite cavalier. 
 
 When they arrived, Feleki was in front of the 
 theater, conversing with some musicians, and Jean 
 Marie, with a show of friendship, invited him to come 
 into his box. After a slight hesitation, Feleki ac 
 cepted. 
 
 Jean Marie had the upper box, and again took his 
 
T H E F L A M E 149 
 
 place at Gwendolyn s side and gave her all his atten 
 tion. 
 
 " I am glad that you brought me this opera score 
 and played it over so many times," she said to Cav- 
 arodossi. " I ll understand it and appreciate it now. 
 I have memorized the words of all the principal 
 arias." Gwendolyn had studied Italian, although she 
 did not speak it fluently. " You know the opera, 
 don t you? " she asked, turning to Jean Marie. 
 
 " Yes. I have seen it several times in Europe. 
 The orchestration is beautiful." 
 
 " I prefer it to Cavalleria, " said Cavarodossi, 
 " although the plot is so absurdly simple that it al 
 lows no opportunities for dramatic effects. Listen to 
 this prelude." 
 
 The director raised his baton and the music began. 
 This second opera of Mascagni s, composed in less 
 than two years after " Cavalleria," is entirely unlike 
 his first work, showing his versatility as a composer. 
 Where his first opera was dramatic and gloomy, 
 this second is sweet and idealistic, a symphonic 
 poem. 
 
 The soprano made her quiet entrance and sang the 
 lovely, melodious " Violet Song " ; soon afterwards, 
 the orchestra ceased and from the wings came the 
 first notes of the unique gipsy violin solo, vibrant 
 with intense but rude feeling. The violin sang with 
 full, rich tones that died away, only to return with 
 renewed ardor and soul. At the close it was greeted 
 with tumultuous applause. 
 
 Feleki, in his enthusiasm, was standing and shout 
 ing, " Bravo ! " 
 
150 THE FLAME 
 
 In answer to the applause, the violinist came upon 
 the stage. He had the inspired, classical face of a 
 young Liszt, and his pallor was enhanced by his 
 wealth of Titian red hair. The audience cheered 
 him and would not be satisfied until the solo was re 
 peated. 
 
 With bated breath Feleki drank in every note, and 
 at the end of the act he said: 
 
 " I must meet that violinist. He is great ! " 
 
 " I know him," said Cavarodossi. " I ll introduce 
 you." 
 
 " Why not do it now? " asked Richard, " and then 
 bring him to our home some day." 
 
 " If you will excuse us, I ll be most grateful," 
 Feleki said, and he and Cavarodossi left the box. 
 
 Mario took him behind the scenes, presented him 
 to the violinist, and then started back to join his 
 friends. For a moment he stood in the rear of the 
 crowded house. Suddenly his arm was seized and he 
 turned and looked into Camille s burning eyes. 
 
 " I want to see you after the opera. Will you 
 come to my hotel? " she asked in an undertone. 
 
 " I am invited to Mr. Rolfe s home for supper." 
 Mario studied her with troubled surprise. " What 
 is it?" 
 
 " I have something to tell you. Come, no matter 
 how late it is. I can t sleep until I have talked with 
 you." Her eyes were aflame with anger. 
 
 " I ll come." 
 
 She nodded and left him. He watched to see 
 where she was going. Her seat was two-thirds back 
 in the house and on the side opposite Jean Marie s 
 
T H E F L A M E 151 
 
 box, of which she had full view. Cavarodossi smiled 
 as he returned to his place. 
 
 " I suppose Monsieur Feleki is happy," said Gwen 
 dolyn, as he entered the box. 
 
 " Yes, he has found a kindred soul." Cavarodossi 
 glanced at Jean Marie and was satisfied that he did 
 not know of Camille s presence in the theater. 
 
 The Prince s chair was very close to Gwendolyn s 
 and he seemed joyfully unaware of everything but 
 the girl beside him. 
 
 Cavarodossi felt hot blood mounting to his cheeks, 
 and he turned abruptly and took the seat by Miss 
 Morris that he had left. 
 
 It was not long before the second act began. 
 Feleki, with a beaming face, returned just as the 
 soprano and tenor in the courtyard of the farm began 
 the exquisite " Cherry duet." In each succeeding 
 act the music becomes more intense with poetic feel 
 ing. 
 
 Jean Marie, knowing the opera, waited for 
 " Fritz s " solo, and when it came, he moved forward 
 and his hand stole out and closed over Gwendolyn s 
 with a slow, expressive grasp. 
 
 The tenor s voice rang out clearly : 
 
 " What a strangely troubled feeling 
 
 Fills my heart with doubt and fear, 
 While my brain with hope is reeling 
 
 And I m happy while she s near. 
 Can it be that Love has slain me 
 
 With his arrow, sharp and strong? 
 That his net has prisoner taken me, 
 
 I who mocked at him so long? " 
 
152 THE FLAME 
 
 Gwendolyn, thrilled, turned and looked into Jean 
 Marie s ardent eyes. 
 
 " It was so with me, dear, until I knew you," he 
 murmured, bending forward. His eloquent eyes 
 slowly turned from her to the stage, and he released 
 her hand after giving it a last tremulous pressure. 
 
 The act ended with a volley of applause from the 
 audience. 
 
 " Are you enj oying it ? " Richard asked Gwendo 
 lyn. He was anxious to turn her attention from 
 Jean Marie. 
 
 " Yes. It is the true soul of Mascagni. I love 
 his music. Were you pleased with the violinist?" 
 she asked Feleki. 
 
 " More than pleased. It is a great joy to meet a 
 true artist." 
 
 "Is he an Italian?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Yes," echoed Cavarodossi. " It is the Italian 
 who has the true heart, and the Hungarian, also," he 
 added, laying his hand on Feleki s arm, and giving 
 Jean Marie a glance that was not altogether compli 
 mentary to his heart. 
 
 But the Prince did not appear to understand. 
 
 After the intermezzo preceding the third act had 
 been played and repeated at the demand of the en 
 thusiastic audience, the curtain rose, and Jean Marie, 
 who had moved back a little from Gwendolyn, came 
 forward and leaned over her chair. She occasion 
 ally turned to him and his mild eyes, would lighten 
 up with admiration and joy and make a declaration 
 of love that was more eloquent than words. 
 
T H E F L A M E 153 
 
 Presently " Fritz," alone, sang feelingly : 
 
 " Oh, Love, oh, beautiful light of the heart, 
 Eternal flame within the world itself, 
 Mingling happy and sad caresses, 
 
 Life is in thee! 
 
 Soft is the light that at night descends, 
 Brilliant is the powerful sun always, 
 Yet thy ray above all is resplendent, 
 
 Light of the heart! 
 Oh, shine, bright, eternal torch, 
 Diffuse thyself, pulsating creator! 
 Heaven sings the hymn of peace: 
 
 Life is Love ! " 
 
 Jean Marie again caught Gwendolyn s fingers and 
 held them fast. She did not turn and look into his 
 eyes, because her heart was throbbing with emotion, 
 but she pressed his fingers with a sudden fervor, 
 which he answered, then drew his hand away. He 
 had invited her to this opera, because the plo t was 
 sweet, simple and wholesome, and he knew that it 
 would appeal to her innocent soul, while a dashing 
 dramatic opera like " La Tosca " or " Carmen " 
 would thrill her with its music, but the love scenes 
 would not speak to her heart, nor give him the op 
 portunity slyly to play the ardent lover. 
 
 When the curtain fell, she sat for a moment with 
 her eyes closed. 
 
 "Why didn t Mascagni write another act?" she 
 presently complained. " I could hear it all over 
 again." 
 
 " I m sure the artists wouldn t care to sing it over 
 again," laughed Richard. 
 
154 THE FLAME 
 
 As they went down from the box, Jean Marie 
 stepped back to pay his attention to Richard, and 
 Cavarodossi was at Gwendolyn s side. She did not 
 speak to him, but was humming the tenor s last aria, 
 and softly; sang the ending lines, 
 
 s Heaven sings the hymn of peace : 
 Life is Love ! 
 
 " Yes," said Mario, earnestly. " * Life is Love,* 
 but the love must be true. It cannot have a selfish 
 motive, and pure, undying love is rare. It is what 
 we all are seeking, but few find it." 
 
 Gwendolyn sighed happily, then turned a quick 
 glance on Cavarodossi. He gave her a steady look, 
 and she liked his eyes, although they reproached 
 her. 
 
 " I am going to find that rare love," she said with 
 conviction. 
 
 " Then, Mademoiselle, you must look elsewhere." 
 It was Feleki who spoke. He was behind her and had 
 Miss Morris by the arm. 
 
 Gwendolyn abruptly turned on him. 
 
 " Elsewhere? " she echoed. 
 
 " Yes. There is no unselfish love amongst sing 
 ers. That is all in the play." But his eyes gave her 
 a different answer. 
 
 Gwendolyn turned back and for the moment her 
 doubts and fears reawakened. Was Feleki, also, sus 
 picious of Jean Marie? They had reached the thea 
 ter entrance and the Prince returned to her side. 
 She caught his arm and clung to it. 
 
THE FLAME 155 
 
 It was one o clock before Cavarodossi reached Ca- 
 mille s hotel. He found her parlor door ajar; so he 
 knocked and entered. 
 
 Camille, in a blue lounging robe, was lying, face 
 downward, on the couch, with one of her strong, 
 white hands clutching the arm of it. She raised her 
 head as Mario entered. Her face was pale and 
 marked with lines that her careless life was tracing, 
 and her eyes were aflame. He paused abruptly. 
 He never had seen such danger in a face. She sprang 
 up, closed the door that he had left half open, and 
 locked it. 
 
 " What can I do for you ? " he quietly asked, lay 
 ing down his hat and overcoat. 
 
 She stood beside him like a tragic Lady Macbeth. 
 
 " I am going to tell you of my life ; then I want 
 you to help me and save Miss Rolfe." She looked 
 at him keenly, and saw in his eyes that she had struck 
 a responsive chord. 
 
 " If you mean the story of your life in the Latin 
 Quarter of Paris and your leaving it with the Prince 
 de Bourbon, I know of that already. Janos told me, 
 even before I met you." 
 
 Her expression softened and the hard gleam faded 
 from her eyes when he mentioned Feleki. 
 
 " He does not know my life after I left the Latin 
 Quarter. You must listen, so that Miss Rolfe can 
 be saved. Perhaps you think you know what Bour 
 bon is, but you don t know half." She motioned him 
 to a chair, and she sat near him on the couch. " You 
 know what my life is," she burst forth with sudden 
 vehemence, " and it was Bourbon who made me what 
 
156 THE FLAME 
 
 I am." She buried her face in her trembling 
 hands. 
 
 " Yes, I understand," said Cavarodossi in a sympa 
 thetic tone, suppressing his emotion. 
 
 She looked up, and throwing back her head, went 
 on with dramatic emphasis : 
 
 " He was true to me for two years after he had 
 placed me in a cafe, that gilded, enviable position, 
 as he called it," she sneered, " then he left me alone, 
 a girl of twenty, at the mercy of his rich, reprobate 
 friends. A vulgar, ignorant dance-hall singer had 
 caught his fancy. After a few months, he left her 
 and returned to me, for I was then the rage of 
 Paris. Men were showering me with money and 
 jewels for a song, for a smile, or a glance. I took 
 him back because he belonged to me. He was the 
 only man who was truly my own, but it was not 
 long before he left me again, for another woman who 
 had fascinated him. Two years ago he met a dance- 
 hall singer who held him for nearly a year, but she 
 finally cast him aside, because his money was gone, 
 and then, as usual, he came back to me, but this time 
 it was for me to support him. His uncle, the Due 
 de Castelnau, had become thoroughly disgusted with 
 him and refused to pay any more of his debts ; so 
 he came to me repentant, humble, loving, because 
 he knew I was a weak fool and would accept him, 
 and I did. Everything he possessed was seized for 
 debt, and amongst his uncle s friends he had made 
 himself an outcast by cheating at gambling, and it 
 was this that had driven him, incognito, to the Latin 
 Quarter. He was waiting for Paris to forget." 
 
THE FLAME 157 
 
 She paused, and the flame in her eyes was burning 
 intensely. Both hands were clutching the edge of 
 the couch, and the blue veins were prominent. 
 
 Cavarodossi was leaning forward, resting on the 
 arm of the couch. He was devouring every word, 
 but did not speak. 
 
 " He has not a dollar in the world," she went on, 
 after a pause, her full, red lips curled with con 
 temptuous scorn, " and he has sold nearly all of his 
 paintings and other art works. For a year I sup 
 ported him ; then his creditors hounded him so per 
 sistently that he decided to leave Paris and come to 
 America and seek a fortune, but he was too proud 
 to come as the beggar that he was, and I sold my 
 jewels, my horses, my carriage, and raised money 
 from every man who had a franc to throw away, 
 and gave it all to him. He said he was coming here 
 to work, and then he would send for me, and I, like a 
 simpleton, believed him. He went to see his uncle and 
 said that he was going to tell him of his good inten 
 tions, but I know now what he did tell the Duke, 
 that he was coming to America in search of an 
 heiress. He told me that Castelnau had promised to 
 receive him, when he could return to France with 
 money enough to pay his debts and restore his hon 
 orable name." 
 
 "Why doesn t he sell his castle?" asked Cavaro 
 dossi. 
 
 " His castle ! " She laughed. " He doesn t own 
 one. It belongs to his uncle, who promised him a 
 home in it some time ago, if he would be at least 
 half-way respectable and marry a woman who could 
 
158 THE FLAME 
 
 help him recover his social position. When he 
 started for America, he promised to write me by 
 every steamer and give me a full account of his 
 doings, but he lied to me when he did write, and soon 
 his letters ceased. For seven months I waited in 
 vain for a word from him ; then I started for Amer 
 ica, not only to -find him and learn the truth, but to 
 get back the money he owes me. I thought perhaps 
 good luck had come to him, and that for this reason 
 he wrote no more. The last address he gave me was 
 the Fairmont Hotel; so when I arrived, I went there 
 and found him ! " 
 
 She paused and there was triumph in her tone. 
 
 " I had not believed him so low," said Cavarodossi, 
 with disgust and contempt. 
 
 " No," she answered, " he has a sweet, gracious 
 manner, and I believe I really did love him a little 
 until I saw Janos again. Then my heart with all 
 its passion cried out to him, my first, my only true 
 love. I might have been his wife now ! " She fell 
 back against the pillows and buried her face in 
 them. 
 
 Cavarodossi gazed at her with compassion. 
 " Have courage," he gently said. 
 
 She drew up quickly. " Courage for what? 
 Janos is lost to me forever. But, yes, I have cour 
 age," she added with a sudden burst of rage and 
 hatred, " courage to brand Bourbon in America and 
 take him back to Paris, ruined, dishonored. This is 
 my determination." 
 
 " What is to become of Miss Rolfe? " asked Mario, 
 trying to subdue the interest in his voice. 
 
THE FLAME 159 
 
 " You know that he wants to marry her, don t 
 you?" She leaned closer to him and studied him 
 sharply. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " I believed it from the first," she said, " but he 
 denied it. To-night I saw for myself. An ac 
 cepted lover could not have been more attentive than 
 he, and he treated her with a deference that he never 
 has shown me, because she is a respectable girl in a 
 high position." Camille s eyes burned dangerously 
 and all the color fled from her indignant face. " He 
 told Dubois that he was going to take her to the 
 opera to-night, and Dubois let it slip while I was at 
 luncheon with him to-day ; so I went to the theater to 
 learn the truth and act accordingly." 
 
 "What do you mean?" Mario asked with con 
 cern. 
 
 She leaned still closer to him. " Dubois says that 
 the Rolfes give receptions and entertainments and 
 employ musicians and singers. He says there is 
 some talk of their giving one soon. I want you in 
 a disinterested way to tell Mr. Rolfe about me. Get 
 me into the house; I ll do the rest. I can t trust 
 Dubois with my scheme; he is too simple and bun- 
 gling." 
 
 " No," Mario said, firmly. " I can t do this for 
 you. Strike Bourbon in some other way, but don t 
 bring disgrace and public suffering to Miss Rolfe. 
 It would be most unkind and unnecessary." 
 
 Camille s trembling hand stole out and clutched 
 Mario s arm. 
 
 " You won t help me? " she slowly asked. 
 
160 THE FLAME 
 
 " Yes, in any way but this. You mustn t be reck 
 less. Think of the girl." 
 
 " I am thinking of her. No doubt she loves him, 
 although the public doesn t know it, and it will take 
 a rude shock to awaken her." 
 
 " No, you are mistaken. She is innocent and 
 unsuspecting, but we can make her understand what 
 he is and reject him without her brother and the 
 world knowing of her folly." 
 
 " You don t know him as I do," she said, warn- 
 ingly. " He may persuade her into a secret mar 
 riage. He is a practiced deceiver and enticer, and 
 his influence is dangerously hypnotic. Beware that 
 he doesn t trick her and you." 
 
 Cavarodossi, pale and excited, rose and walked to 
 the farther end of the room. She watched him with 
 catlike slyness and a gleam of triumph crept into 
 her eyes. 
 
 " No, no," he said, at last. " She would not 
 yield to his base persuasion. She has too high an 
 idea of honor and too great a love for her brother." 
 
 " You think so," Camille returned, with a know 
 ing smile, " but you don t understand his influence 
 and his poisonous charm. Remember, she is igno 
 rant of the world." 
 
 Cavarodossi vehemently shook his head. " No," 
 he insisted, " she will not yield to him." 
 
 Camille rose and caught his arm, as he came back 
 to her. " Then help me. It is but little that I ask 
 of you." 
 
 " It is a great deal. Mr. Rolfe would keenly feel 
 the disgrace of having the Prince denounced in his 
 
THE FLAME 161 
 
 home, because his sister would be crushed and she 
 could not hide it, and I cannot prove myself un 
 worthy of the trust he has in me. Let us think of 
 something else." 
 
 Camille s sharp eyes studied him and she knew 
 that he would not yield. She would try another 
 way. Bourbon must be publicly stripped of his 
 honor and dignity. 
 
 " Very well," she said after a pause. " I ll try 
 and think of another plan." 
 
 " Then I ll help you," he promised. " Miss Rolfe 
 must be saved." 
 
 " We alone can do it," Camille returned. 
 
 " Yes, we and Janos." 
 
 " Janos ! " she exclaimed. " Janos ! That name 
 is forever in my mind. Night and day it will not 
 leave me. You don t know what it is to be cursed 
 with a hopeless love. It is the price that I must pay 
 for my folly, my ambition." 
 
 She pressed her hand to her tired eyes from which 
 the fire had suddenly died. 
 
 " I am going to leave you," Mario said, gently. 
 " Go to bed and sleep and forget the past and the 
 present. Bourbon is a beastly scoundrel and we ll 
 see that he gets his pay, but forget him now." 
 
 She held out her hand. "You are my friend?" 
 she asked. 
 
 4 Yes. I wish I could protect you from all harm 
 and suffering." 
 
 She gratefully smiled. " You are kind to me. 
 Good-night ! " 
 
 Her eyes were calm as he never before had seen 
 
162 THE FLAME 
 
 them. It made him apprehensive, and he went away 
 with fear in his heart. He kept asking himself if 
 she had yielded so easily to his better judgment, or 
 had she deceived him? He went home, but no sleep 
 came to him that night. His only thoughts were of 
 Jean Marie s vile life and the dangerous fascination 
 that he had cast over Gwendolyn. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 AFTER having supper at the Rolfe home, Jean 
 Marie left very well satisfied with the success 
 of his evening s entertainment. He knew that he 
 had conquered Gwendolyn completely, and he was 
 vain enough to believe that his title and personal at 
 tractiveness were of sufficient consequence to capti 
 vate Richard in time. He could not believe it possi 
 ble that a plebeian American millionaire would not 
 succumb eventually to a highly cultured European 
 nobleman, especially one bearing the exalted title 
 of a prince. He was already figuring on his uncle s 
 delight when he could send the Duke an announce 
 ment of his engagement to a fifty-million-dollar heir 
 ess. 
 
 With a contented smile, Jean Marie stretched him 
 self out in a lounging chair in his reception-room 
 at the Fairmont, and with luxurious ease and satis 
 faction, puffed leisurely at his expensive cigarette. 
 He had planned a most alluring future. Gwendolyn 
 would be plunged into the whirl of a social life, and 
 this would give him his liberty, so that he could live 
 as when a bachelor. They would make their home 
 at Versailles with his highly-respected and moral uncle, 
 and Jean Marie would find it necessary to spend 
 much of his time in Paris. Gwendolyn was so inno 
 cent that he could deceive her easily, especially if he 
 
 163 
 
164 THE FLAME 
 
 was loving and romantic when with her. He had 
 no intention of being a stern master, because it 
 would be more agreeable to have her gay, and in 
 this way, through her, he could count upon his 
 uncle s favor, knowing that Gwendolyn was the kind 
 of girl who would please the Duke. 
 
 A slow smile curved Jean Marie s lips as he 
 thought of the riotous living in which he could in 
 dulge when he would have fifty millions at his dis 
 posal. All the women of Bohemian Paris would be 
 at his feet, but the one he coveted most of all was 
 the glowing, capricious Camille. , . . Camille! 
 The thought of her gave him a most unpleasant 
 shock. He had not seen her since the meeting with 
 Gwendolyn at Pastori s. That night he and Ca 
 mille had had a stormy scene and he had left her in 
 a rage, vowing that he never again would see her, 
 but he knew that his vow was meaningless, because, 
 as she had pointedly reminded him, he was abso 
 lutely within her power, and the wisest course he 
 could follow would be to make peace with her again. 
 If she chose, she could in one interview with Gwen 
 dolyn or her brother, rob Jean Marie of his golden 
 future. He well knew her desperate, reckless char 
 acter, but, to a certain extent, his own love for 
 money blinded him to the fact that she would not 
 be dazzled by the prospect of having fifty million 
 dollars almost within her reach. He must come to 
 some understanding with her at once. He would 
 try to stimulate her love for him, and if he did not 
 succeed, he would try to buy her off ; but should this 
 last device fail him 
 
THEFLAME 165 
 
 Jean Marie sat rigidly erect and gave his ciga 
 rette a vicious bite. The mild light died in his eyes, 
 and stern, hard lines killed the sweet amiability in 
 his face. He would rid himself of her, if she would 
 not yield willingly ; he would force her, he would 
 cast her from his path. With a throbbing heart and 
 blood beating at his temples, he rose and began 
 to pace the floor. Yes, he would remove her, if 
 she would not submit. It would be the only way. 
 He had no one else to fear, because, even though he 
 might win Richard s consent, he would not let his 
 engagement to Gwendolyn be announced until Feleki 
 had left the city. 
 
 He would go to-morrow and see what terms he 
 could make with Camille, but he would not let a 
 woman from the Latin Quarter of Paris dominate 
 him, the bearer of a great title. Although he had 
 deserted Camille many times, she fascinated him as 
 no other woman could, and the fascination never 
 would have cooled had he not known that he always 
 could return to her. He was proud of her beauty, 
 of her grace, and her voice, and now that he was 
 about to acquire a vast fortune, he wanted her more 
 than ever, because she was the undisputed queen of 
 Bohemian Paris and she would know how to be the 
 regal mistress of millions. He would give her a 
 luxurious home in Paris, in which she could con 
 gregate the gay nobility, the wealth, and the celeb 
 rities of the French capital. This always had been 
 his ambition and now it could be fulfilled. But 
 would Camille fail him? Would she refuse to ac 
 cept money gained through his marriage? She al- 
 
166 THE FLAME 
 
 ways had fought such a suggestion, but he was 
 tempted to believe that she would yield now that 
 the golden prize was near at hand. Although it 
 seemed incredible to him that she would hesitate at 
 fifty millions, yet there was an uncertainty that 
 kept rising in his heart. If she would not accept 
 his proposition, and if he could not buy her off, she 
 would be his most dangerous enemy, and her venge 
 ance, like a raging tornado, would pursue and crush 
 him. But he would foil her. He would rid himself 
 of her as he would crush a worm beneath his foot. 
 He feared no consequences, and he would hesitate 
 at nothing, being absolutely unscrupulous. But he 
 wanted Camille, and he wanted to know that he could 
 win her in spite of all opposition on her part. Yet, 
 if she were obstinate 
 
 He drew a sharp breath, and thrusting his hands 
 down deep into his pockets, continued to pace the 
 floor. Finally, with a vortex of passion surging 
 through him, he went to bed, but he slept no more that 
 night than did Cavarodossi. 
 
 When Jean Marie rose in the morning, he was 
 impatient and curt to Fra^ois, and he barely touched 
 his breakfast. His nerves were in a tumult, and 
 to calm them, he increased his customary use of 
 absinthe. Then he debated whether he should call 
 on Camille so early and let her know of his anxiety 
 to see her, or should he wait until after eleven 
 o clock and let it appear that he had called to take 
 luncheon with her. He regarded the latter plan 
 more in accord with his princely dignity. It would 
 not do to be too humble and anxious. 
 
THE FLAME 167 
 
 When Celeste opened the parlor door, Jean Marie 
 found Camille, in a white morning gown, arranging 
 some Marechal Niel roses in a large vase. Her 
 back was half turned to the door, and, as he en 
 tered, she threw him a glance over her shoulder, that 
 seemed most unpropitious to his success, but he 
 went forward with a radiant smile, and bending 
 kissed her round, white arm. He was happily aware 
 that she did not shrink from him. A triumphant, 
 hateful light glittered in her eyes as they rested upon 
 his stooping figure, but when he raised his head, her 
 glance was mellow with a tender reproach, and a 
 thrill shot through him. 
 
 " Forgive my horrid temper the last time we 
 met," he said in his sweetest and most apologetic 
 tone. 
 
 She smiled ambiguously, and he deemed it best to 
 say no more. 
 
 He raised one of the roses and inhaled its delicate 
 perfume. 
 
 "Who sent you these?" he asked with his custo 
 mary familiarity and interest. 
 
 " Dubois." 
 
 Jean Marie laughed lightly. " Is the trigger fish 
 growing romantic? These roses mean adoration, 
 yours heart and soul ! He must be very amus- 
 ing." 
 
 Camille smiled, good-naturedly. " He is, and 
 even his company is acceptable now that you leave 
 me alone." 
 
 " Have you missed me? " There were a sudden 
 ardor and sentiment in his voice. 
 
168 THE FLAME 
 
 " As a child misses its toy." She gave him a 
 cold, defiant glance ; then her eyes softened, and 
 laughing with a purring sweetness, she slipped her 
 arm through his, but she had chilled him and she 
 knew it. 
 
 " I can t ask you to be kind to me," he returned 
 with forced repentance, " because I have been cruel 
 to you." 
 
 " Cruel to me ! " she echoed, and the words fell 
 tremulously from her quivering red lips, but as poig 
 nant as the meaning was, it did not affect him, al 
 though he understood. 
 
 " Yes, dear, I did speak cruelly to you after our 
 return from Pastori s, but you must acknowledge 
 that you were exasperatingly impudent," and he 
 laughed lightly. " Let us kiss and forgive." 
 
 She made no resistance as he folded her in his 
 arms and pressed his lips to hers, but she smiled with 
 almost ironical amusement as he drew away. 
 
 " Sit down, Jean," she said, breezily, " and tell 
 me how you have been spending your time. There 
 are some cigarettes on this table if you can un 
 earth them. Celeste hasn t straightened the room 
 yet. You are an early caller, but, no," as she 
 glanced at the clock, " it is half after eleven. I 
 didn t know it was so late." She went on arranging 
 the flowers, stepping back now and then to view 
 them. 
 
 Her gracious, familiar tone immediately set Jean 
 Marie at ease, and dropping into a chair, he helped 
 himself to one of his own cigarettes. As he sat 
 slowly and daintily rolling it between his slender 
 
THE FLAME 169 
 
 fingers, he studied Camille with a sort of puzzled 
 curiosity. There was more color than usual in her 
 cheeks, and her eyes had an added brilliancy. In the 
 two days that they had been separated, her beauty 
 seemed to have increased and blossomed with a new 
 glowing intensity. Every movement of her hands 
 and body seemed electrified with a nervous vigor and 
 abandonment. He wondered what had changed 
 her, what had kindled this new fire in her blood. It 
 stirred him and intensified his infatuation for her. 
 She was the queen of queens. 
 
 Camille felt his enraptured gaze, and permitted 
 him, with apparent unconsciousness, to satiate him 
 self with adoration. 
 
 " Well, how have you spent your time? " she pres 
 ently asked, setting the vase in the center of the table, 
 and taking a chair opposite him. 
 
 He tore his eyes away from her, and leisurely 
 striking a match, lighted his cigarette. 
 
 " I ve been moping," he said. " Could I do any 
 thing but pine when I am not with you? " 
 
 She smiled. " You were not wasted away when 
 I arrived from France," she said, putting her elbow 
 on the arm of the chair, and, resting her chin in the 
 palm of her hand, tilted back her head and studied 
 him with mocking, half-closed eyes. 
 
 " No," he answered, " not wasted away, but hop 
 ing, praying, watching for the opportunity to make 
 a fortune and return to you." 
 
 " You promised that you would send for me to 
 come here." 
 
 " Yes, but I had changed my mind. America is 
 
170 THE FLAME 
 
 no place for a European nobleman. The people 
 neither understand nor appreciate nobility." 
 
 Camille laughed lightly. " Really, Jean, I must 
 defend the Americans. I think any man is appre 
 ciated here if he has true valor and proves himself 
 to be something more than ordinar}^ Of course, 
 you can t expect a mere title to appeal to the true- 
 spirited republicans. A man must be up and doing 
 something worth while to satisfy them." 
 
 " Up and doing something ! " he scornfully re 
 peated. " Surely, Camille, you don t expect me to 
 become plebeian, do you?" 
 
 She elevated her brows with mild surprise. 
 " Didn t you intend to do work of any kind when 
 you came here? How did you expect to make a 
 living for yourself and for me? " 
 
 He was busily adjusting the mouthpiece on his 
 cigarette, and did not glance up. She smiled sar 
 castically. 
 
 " I didn t know," he presently returned, " but 
 we hear in Europe that gold is easily gathered in 
 America. It is an absurd fable. The only way a 
 nobleman can make a fortune in this country is by 
 marrying an heiress." He did not glance at her im 
 mediately, but when he did, he saw a strangely de 
 fiant glitter in her eyes. 
 
 " That is not the way by which you can make a 
 fortune, Jean," she said in a very quiet but decided 
 tone. 
 
 He carelessly laughed. "Why not? You know 
 that whatever I gain is half yours, more than half." 
 
 " As I have told you before, Jean, money acquired 
 
THE FLAME 171 
 
 in such a way would have no value for me and I 
 wouldn t accept it. You are mine and I won t give 
 you to another." 
 
 He leaned forward and love flared in his eyes. " I 
 don t want you to renounce me. I love you, Ca- 
 mille, only you. No other woman can hold me. 
 You know it. I ll never desert you again." 
 
 " So you are playing to win Miss Rolfe," she 
 said, sitting erect and ignoring his words. 
 
 He shrugged with annoyance. " Why do you 
 constantly refer to her? " 
 
 " Because I understand your game. Why should 
 you have been in such a rage at me after our meeting 
 with her at Pastori s if it were not that you are try 
 ing to win her? Would Janos have been so angry if 
 I had called him by his Christian name in her pres 
 ence? No, because he is not trying to ensnare her." 
 
 " How do you know that he is not? " Jean asked 
 with a spiteful light in his eyes. " I rarely call 
 on Miss Rolfe without finding Feleki there." 
 
 Camille gave him a quick glance. " Is he intimate 
 at the house?" 
 
 " Surprisingly so," he sneered. 
 
 A gleam of triumph shot into her eyes, but she 
 veiled them with her long lashes. 
 
 " I am speaking of you, Jean," she said. " I 
 won t share you with another." 
 
 His voice softened as he asked, " Do you love me 
 so much? " 
 
 " You are mine ! " was all she said. There was 
 no love in her tone, and Jean Marie detected it with 
 troubled surprise. 
 
172 THE FLAME 
 
 " Then you wouldn t bless my nuptials ? " he care 
 lessly asked. 
 
 " Never ! " It rang out with vehemence and de 
 cision that stifled his hope of ever having her the 
 peerless ornament of his Parisian home. But his 
 hope died hard, because, as he sat before her and 
 studied her perfection, he could not bring himself 
 to giving her up without a struggle. She strongly 
 satisfied his, highly cultured sense of beauty and 
 she also was intellectually the woman he desired. 
 They had been together so long that she seemed a 
 part of himself, and now that he faced the renuncia 
 tion of her, he faltered. He could not realize that 
 she was lost to him. He would not let it be the end. 
 She had said that he was hers, anil his heart cried out 
 that she was his. 
 
 He forced a laugh, but it was unsteady. 
 
 " As long as we are indulging in fables," he said, 
 " let us carry it a little further. Suppose it should 
 happen that I loved you no more, remember, I am 
 only saying suppose, because that never could be a 
 reality, how much money would you demand as 
 the price of my freedom? " 
 
 She sprang to her feet and rage swept through 
 her with a force that swayed her. The fire in her 
 eyes gave them a reddish hue, and the blood fled 
 from her face, leaving it ashen. 
 
 " You dare " she burst forth, but the tempest 
 within her choked her voice. " You dare to ask the 
 price I demand for giving you your freedom! In 
 my youth and folly, I gave you all I had to give, and 
 you swore that you would love and cherish me till 
 
THE FLAME 173 
 
 death. How have you protected me from tempta 
 tion and insults? What have you made of me! 
 And now you ask the price of your freedom ! There 
 is no price. You gave yourself to me and you are 
 mine till death, till death. As long as there is a 
 breath of life in my body, I will claim you. The 
 price I demand is yourself. There is nothing else 
 that I will accept. You are mine, not only by your 
 own giving, but because I have bought and paid for 
 you." 
 
 Jean Marie s blood was afire, and inwardly he was 
 trembling with outraged pride and defeat, but he 
 mastered his feelings and showed her nothing but 
 cold assurance. Even through the overwhelming 
 force of his rage there stole the vivid realization 
 of her wild, almost barbaric beauty. He never had 
 seen her in such a fury, and while he was maddened 
 by her words, he was fascinated by her glowing, 
 animal strength and power. Must he rob himself of 
 the chance of ever again making her his own? She 
 never had been so bewitching. Her loveliness never 
 had so intoxicated him. Under the spell of her 
 dominant force, he would have caught her in his 
 arms, but her rich, lashing voice rudely aroused 
 him. 
 
 " You can t deceive me by calling these proposi 
 tions that you have made fables. I understand it 
 all. You are courting Miss Rolfe, and she either 
 has accepted you or you are very sure that she will. 
 I saw you with her last night at the opera." 
 
 " You were there? " he broke in. 
 
 " Yes, and if you were her fiance, you could not 
 
174 THE FLAME 
 
 have been more attentive, and forgetful of all else but 
 her. You have tried to make me believe that she 
 loves Cavarodossi. I wish it were true, for she is 
 worthy of a decent man." 
 
 His hands clenched with a jerk. f You are most 
 complimentary," he sneered, with cutting sarcasm. 
 
 She leaned towards him, resting one hand on the 
 table. " Did you believe that you could buy me? " 
 
 He shrugged. " I didn t want to believe it. I 
 love you, Camille, and I want you and you alone. 
 I m not engaged to Miss Rolfe, and there is no pros 
 pect that I ever shall be, but suppose I were, would 
 you desert me when all of her millions would be at 
 your command? Think of the luxurious life we 
 could lead ! " He sighed. 
 
 She impatiently waved her hand to silence him. 
 " You know my answer." 
 
 He carelessly laughed. " You ll never change ? " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 Jean Marie fastened a devouring gaze upon her. 
 She had sealed her own doom, he told himself, but he 
 could not conquer the longing for her love. His 
 turbulent emotions and the struggle to suppress 
 them were wearing dangerously on his overwrought 
 nerves. His love for gold and his infatuation for 
 Camille were tearing his heart asunder. He dared 
 not remain longer in her presence, for he was losing 
 control of himself, and he feared for what he might 
 do. His final decision must be made when he was in 
 a more tranquil state of mind and away from her. 
 He rose. 
 
 " I m sorry we have quarreled again," he said, 
 
THE FLAME 175 
 
 smothering his emotions, " and I regret having 
 spoken of this imaginary fortune. Such hot dis 
 putes will ruin our happiness should this fabulous 
 wealth ever materialize." He smiled. 
 
 " It never will," she firmly answered. 
 
 He shrugged. " Whenever I speak of wealth, it 
 is always for your sake." 
 
 " I m not particular how you make money, Jean, 
 but not a dollar of it can come through another 
 woman." 
 
 " My jealous little beauty ! " He playfully slipped 
 his arm about her, that she might not believe him 
 deeply stirred. 
 
 " We are going back to Paris together," she said, 
 looking him full in the eyes ; " so forget this Ameri 
 can gold." 
 
 " I can t go. There would be no welcome for me 
 unless I had great wealth." 
 
 She smiled, and closed her eyes that he might not 
 see the gleam of satisfaction in them. 
 
 66 Poor Jean ! " she murmured in a purring tone. 
 
 He abruptly drew away. " Good-by ! I must 
 go. I promised to lunch with some friends at the 
 club." He took up his hat. 
 
 She caught his arm and turned him towards her. 
 
 " Don t forget what I have said. I ll never 
 change." Her eyes burned him through. 
 
 She need not have told him to remember. 
 
 When he left her, he hurried back to the Fairmont, 
 fearing that he might meet some acquaintance on the 
 street, and he knew that he would betray his agitation. 
 Reaching his bedroom, he threw himself into a chair. 
 
176 THE FLAME 
 
 Which did he yearn for the more, money or 
 Camille? He could feel even now the fascination of 
 her presence. It stole over him; it mastered him; 
 it was a living force. She was his, and he was posi 
 tive that she never would desert him so long as he 
 did not marry. But the fortune! He knew that 
 his longing for Camille was a mad intoxication, and 
 he knew also that when her youth and beauty would 
 be gone, he would be sobered and care for her no 
 more. Then he would be without money, without 
 position, without the luxuries that were dear to him. 
 He believed that in time he could conquer his longing 
 for her. There were many more charming women 
 in the world, but as he realized that the end was 
 near, his infatuation deepened and her beauty al 
 lured him. His heart fought for her, as Ulysses 
 fought to break the ropes that bound him that he 
 might plunge into the sea in pursuit of the Sirens, 
 and destruction. 
 
 Jean Marie knew that it would mean destruction 
 to him to cling to Camille and renounce Gwendolyn s 
 fortune. He thought of what he could do when 
 returning to Paris with great wealth, how he could 
 reestablish the position to which his noble birth 
 entitled him, how he could repay those who had 
 slighted him after his downfall. He could be the 
 king of Bohemia, and he knew how to reign ! What 
 was the possession of one woman compared with 
 such a life as this! He tossed back his head and 
 laughed aloud. Yes, it was wealth in preference to 
 Camille, and she had sealed her own doom. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 JANOS suffered a rude shock when his valet 
 handed him an envelope bearing Camille s char 
 acteristic handwriting. For a moment he clutched 
 it and a tumult of emotions battled in his heart. He 
 had not forgotten her writing; he could not, it was 
 so like the woman herself, dashing, bold, impetu 
 ous. The same perfume that had agitated him and 
 aroused memories of the past when he had entered her 
 parlor with Cavarodossi, rose now from the paper 
 and stirred him. He tore open the envelope, but 
 hesitated before drawing forth the letter. What 
 had made her write to him? It must be something 
 of unusual moment, and he almost feared to read it. 
 Reluctantly he unfolded the paper. 
 
 Jdnos : 
 
 I am writing to you, not for myself, but 
 in behalf of a friend of yours and Cavaro- 
 dossi s. I must see you. Come to me as 
 soon as possible after receiving this. An 
 innocent child is in peril, and we must save 
 her. You understand, don t you? I am 
 counting upon your aid. 
 
 Forgive this liberty I am taking. 
 In haste, 
 
 CAMILLE. 
 177 
 
178 THE FLAME 
 
 The letter surprised him and he read it twice. 
 There was no tenderness in it, no reference to the 
 past. He was grateful for her forbearance, as Ca- 
 mille shrewdly knew he would be. She knew that if 
 she wrote to him with more familiarity than the 
 merest acquaintance might manifest, he never would 
 go to her. 
 
 It was the morning after her scene with Jean 
 Marie. She understood now that he had won Gwen 
 dolyn, and that if she, Camille, would accept the 
 money he could offer, it was his intention to buy her 
 off. The infamous proposition he had made, in 
 flamed her hatred for him. Did he believe her so 
 unprincipled? She would repay him for his insults, 
 and it gave her a thrill of satisfaction when she 
 thought how he dreaded returning to Paris without 
 wealth. 
 
 The jealousy of Gwendolyn that she had felt at 
 first had been drowned in the whirlpool of venge 
 ance that was surging through her. Cavarodossi 
 had failed her in her scheme to enter the Rolfe home, 
 but she had not abandoned the idea, as Mario feared 
 she would not. It had stimulated her determination 
 to carry out her plan when Jean Marie had told her 
 that Janos was intimate at the Rolfe home. He 
 could help her, and she did not consider that he 
 might refuse, when he would be saving Gwendolyn 
 and ruining the Prince. 
 
 Camille felt impelled to act quickly, for she was 
 certain that danger was concealed beneath Jean Ma 
 rie s cold assurance. It was not like him to be calm 
 when disgrace and defeat were confronting him, but 
 
THE FLAME 179 
 
 she knew that to trap him, she must pretend not to 
 doubt his sincerity. She was troubled in wondering 
 what trickery he was planning. 
 
 Feleki hurriedly ate a light breakfast and started 
 to Camille s hotel. What did she know concerning 
 Gwendolyn, and how did she intend to save her? It 
 deeply troubled him, but not more than the breaking 
 of his determination not to see Camille again. He 
 knew how painfully his heart would throb when he 
 would be near her, but it was for the sake of right 
 eousness and Gwendolyn, and he did not hesitate in 
 his duty. 
 
 When he arrived at the hotel, he paused at the 
 entrance, that he might gain better control over him 
 self and again, as he stood before her door, he 
 paused and braced himself, as if about to undergo 
 physical pain. He could feel the color in his cheeks 
 slowly creeping away, and he knew that his eyes were 
 glittering with an unnatural brilliancy. His heart 
 was hammering loudly as he knocked on the door, 
 and a strange choking sensation gripped him as 
 Celeste appeared and asked him to enter. He 
 thought no more of Gwendolyn nor of Jean Marie, but 
 was conscious only that he was in the apartments of 
 Diane Godin, his dead ideal. Walking to the farther 
 end of the room, he stood facing the piano, and 
 waited. His hands were clutching the back of the 
 chair ; his muscles were drawn to a tension. He heard 
 a light step, but a few seconds passed before he 
 turned. 
 
 In this momentary lapse, Camille had crushed 
 down the love that had flooded her eyes. She knew 
 
180 THEFLAME 
 
 that her only hope lay in meeting him without emo 
 tion. 
 
 " I thank you for coming," she quietly said. She 
 did not take a chair near him, nor did she purposely 
 arrange the graceful folds into which her soft pink 
 gown fell. She knew that he had no love for her as 
 Camille Dubray, and she had no intention of trying 
 to ensnare him. Through her own folly she had 
 lost him, and she yielded, believing that he never 
 again could find peace and happiness with her. Not 
 only had she killed his faith in her; his respect had 
 perished with it. Yet not one of these miserable 
 thoughts was visible in her face as she sat before 
 him. 
 
 " How can I serve you? " he asked, restraining 
 his emotion. 
 
 " It is my intention to save Miss Rolfe from Bour 
 bon, and you can help me." 
 
 Janos hesitated. He would not lend himself to a 
 petty revenge. 
 
 " Do you believe that he is trying to win her? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 He misunderstood the passion in her eyes. 
 
 " I don t see how I can help you," he said. 
 
 " I want to gain an entrance to the Rolfe home." 
 
 Janos looked at her, astonished. " Do you wish 
 me to take you there ? " 
 
 " Yes, but not as a friend. I want you to secure 
 me an engagement to sing at their next musicale." 
 
 Janos leaned forward in his anxiety. " What do 
 you expect to do to Miss Rolfe? " 
 
THE FLAME 181 
 
 " I am going to tell her what kind of a man Bour 
 bon is." Her voice slightly trembled. 
 
 Feleki was silent, wondering why Camille with her 
 daring did not go alone to call on Gwendolyn. Why 
 did she wish to drag him into this affair? 
 
 Camille surmised his thoughts, and said, quickly: 
 
 " You must understand me. I do not wish to 
 see Miss Rolfe privately. It is in the midst of many 
 people that I want to denounce Bourbon. This ex 
 pose is for the public, not for the girl alone." The 
 fire, the hatred in her eyes were unmistakable. 
 
 Janos gripped the arms of his chair. 
 
 " You don t love him ? " he quickly asked. 
 
 "Love him?" she scoffed. "No, a thousand 
 times no. All the affection I felt for him in the past 
 has turned to the most bitter scorn. What has he 
 done that would inspire love and respect? I was 
 mad when I went away with him, but I am sane now 
 and I know what he is. All he wants of Miss Rolfe 
 is her millions, that he may continue his gay life in 
 a more lavish manner, but I am going to thwart him. 
 He never will have the chance to ruin another 
 woman s life as he has ruined mine." Her voice rang 
 out with defiance and resolution, then suddenly her 
 head sank forward and she covered her face with her 
 hands, 
 
 Feleki s eyes were riveted upon her and his heart 
 overflowed with compassion, but he felt no impulse 
 to take her in his arms. It was an ever present pang 
 that she was no longer Diane Godin. He could 
 bring himself to forgive, but not to forget. She 
 loved Bourbon no more! If she intended to leave 
 
182 THE FLAME 
 
 him and live a good life, Janos would do all he could 
 to help her. 
 
 " Have you quarreled with Bourbon and separated 
 from him? " he presently asked. 
 
 She raised her head with a quick toss. " No. 
 We always are quarreling, but he doesn t understand 
 how I despise him, and he never will know. He is 
 mine and I am going to keep him, because he is all 
 I have to call my own." She saw that there was no 
 accession of love in his eyes, nor had she expected to 
 find it. " But let us not speak of this," she quickly 
 added. " Will you take me to the Rolfe home? " 
 
 Feleki shook his head. " I can t do that, espe 
 cially now that Miss Rolfe has seen you at Pastori s 
 with Bourbon. It would be a most unkind thing for 
 me to do. I feel a friendship for her and a sym 
 pathy, because she is so innocent, and if Bourbon 
 has won her, as I fear he has, I want to save her, 
 but in a more kindly way. No one can make her 
 understand what he is as you can, but go to her 
 privately and tell her all that you have to dis 
 close." 
 
 " I am thinking of something besides the girl," 
 Camille said impatiently. " I want to see Bourbon 
 disgraced, humiliated. He deserves something more 
 than punishment and disappointment in secret." 
 
 " Yes, that is true," Janos said with a thrill of 
 satisfaction, " but if you denounce him publicly, 
 aren t you afraid that he will leave you forever? " 
 
 " No, he can t, for he hasn t a dollar that he can 
 call his own. I have been supporting him for a 
 long time and he knows that if he leaves me, he must 
 
THE FLAME 183 
 
 acknowledge to the world that he is a beggar. He 
 has no other way of getting money." She scorn 
 fully smiled. 
 
 A look of abhorrence and disgust crossed Feleki s 
 face, but he said: 
 
 " If you are determined to denounce him publicly, 
 find some other place in which to do it. Let her 
 hear of it, read of it in the newspapers, but don t 
 let her see it. It would be cruel and unnecessary." 
 
 Camille shrugged, but did not answer. 
 
 " You will think of some other way, won t you? " 
 he anxiously asked. 
 
 " If I can. Paris knows him, and I want America 
 to understand what kind of a man is his exalted 
 Highness, the Prince de Bourbon," she sneered. 
 
 Janos studied her with a throbbing heart. The 
 defiance, fire, energy of her young days were still 
 apparent, and strengthened. 
 
 Camille could not endure his steady gaze, and rising, 
 turned to the center table and began nervously to 
 handle some of the ornaments. 
 
 He rose and went towards her. " You under 
 stand, don t you, that I am with you for success in 
 whatever you undertake? It will be a noble deed, 
 if it is rightly done." He hesitated, then held out 
 his hand. 
 
 Camille, forgetful of all else, turned and seized it. 
 
 " Janos ! " she exclaimed, in a quivering tone, and 
 bending, kissed his hand. Her lips lingered a mo 
 ment. 
 
 " This is indeed a touching scene ! " said an angry 
 voice, vibrant with cutting sarcasm. 
 
184 THE FLAME 
 
 Camille drew up and swung round. 
 Jean Marie stood in the bedroom door, his eyes 
 ablaze. 
 
 After leaving Camille the day before, the thought 
 of ridding himself of her had not left Jean Marie. 
 At first ridding himself of her had had a rather 
 vague meaning in his mind. It meant only the end, 
 but he had not decided what " the end " would be. 
 Yet not many hours had passed before he had made 
 a definite plan. He always carried with him a small 
 vial of cyanide of potassium. He had kept the 
 poison, because he was what he styled " a man of re 
 sources," and he felt a repulsion for firearms. 
 
 After making his decision in preference for Gwen 
 dolyn s fortune, he did not change although the long 
 ing for Camille kept returning, and it shocked him 
 to know that he was planning to take her life. 
 Would Gwendolyn s millions lose any of their charm 
 when Camille would be cold in death? Jean Marie 
 shuddered and realized that he could not quiet his 
 longing for her, but he fought the fascination, he 
 paced the floor, and he audibly ridiculed himself for 
 his folly. A hundred times he asked himself, " What 
 is one woman compared with wealth? " and he would 
 not listen to the murmur in his heart. He kept re 
 peating, " I don t love her ! It is only a mad intoxi 
 cation." He had reasoned with himself, struggled 
 with himself, and roused his determination to such a 
 tension that, until he paused to reflect, he was con 
 vinced that wealth was all he cared for on earth. He 
 
THE FLAME 185 
 
 would not let himself see the vision of Camille cold, 
 white, and forever still. 
 
 When he could forget her charm, he reveled in the 
 anticipation of returning to Paris with millions, and 
 he shuddered at the thought of being forced to go 
 back penniless, as he must if he yielded to Camille s 
 fascination. He was too proud to work in America 
 and thus throw a plebeian stain upon his great name. 
 The Latin Quarter was preferable to that. 
 
 All night he weighed the preference between the 
 woman and the fortune, and he knew that wealth 
 would give him a lasting benefit. 
 
 In the morning, he decided to go and see Camille, 
 because he could not let her suspect that he had 
 changed. He wished that he could keep away from 
 her until the final day, but this would not be good 
 policy. He intended to kill her while Feleki was in 
 the city ; then he would tell of her early love for the 
 violinist and start the rumor that desperation and 
 despondency had caused her to take her own life. 
 He went to her hotel feeling that he had control of 
 himself. She had sealed her own doom and he was 
 not to blame for what she had forced upon him. 
 What right had a woman of low birth to defy him? 
 Had he not the privilege to cast off a cafe singer 
 whenever it would suit his pleasure? Other men had 
 taken women from the Latin Quarter and deserted 
 them when they were no longer alluring. Why 
 should not he? She was vastly overstepping the 
 limits of her power. He fired himself with resent 
 ment, and when he reached the corridor leading to 
 
186 THE FLAME 
 
 her rooms, he felt that he was master of the situa 
 tion. 
 
 On coming to her bedroom door, he found it open 
 and the room empty. He entered just as Camille 
 exclaimed, " Janos ! " The ardor and grief in her 
 voice overturned Jean Marie s reason, and with a 
 torrent of insane jealousy sweeping through him, he 
 bounded to the door and confronted them. 
 
 When Camille whirled round and saw him, she 
 shrank away from Janos. How much of their con 
 versation had Jean Marie overheard? 
 
 Feleki drew himself up and coldly surveyed the 
 Prince, who, with a struggle to master himself, came 
 forward, saying, sneeringly: 
 
 " I trust I have not interrupted a private tete-a- 
 tete." 
 
 " No, I was about to leave." Feleki spoke calmly ; 
 his nerves suddenly had become steady. 
 
 Camille saw nothing but jealousy in Jean Marie s 
 eyes and it partly reassured her. Ignoring his pres 
 ence, she turned to Janos and said: 
 
 " Good-by. I ll not detain you any longer." 
 
 He graciously bowed, and taking up his hat, went 
 towards the door. As he reached it, he turned to 
 Jean Marie and made a formal inclination of his 
 head. 
 
 Camille opened the door for him. 
 
 In Jean Marie s jealous madness, he imagined that 
 he detected a look of sympathetic understanding be 
 tween Camille and Janos. All of his pent-up emo 
 tion, the struggle that he had had with himself, his 
 desperation at losing Camille, were ignited by this 
 
THE FLAME 187 
 
 imaginary glance and burned within him like a rag 
 ing fire. With an oath, he dashed towards Feleki, 
 who had stepped out into the corridor, but before he 
 could reach him, Camille closed the door and threw 
 herself against it. 
 
 " By God, I ll " Jean Marie caught his breath. 
 
 "You ll what? Make a scene? If you do, I ll 
 have you arrested." Her proud head was raised 
 with cold defiance. 
 
 " So, you would rob me of the Rolfe millions while 
 you are trying to ensnare Feleki ! " Jean Marie 
 stood threateningly before her. 
 
 She laughed, tauntingly. " Then you acknowl 
 edge that you are playing to win them ! " 
 
 He drew a hard breath. 
 
 " No. I am referring to the fables of yesterday." 
 
 She laughed again. " Do you think I m such a 
 fool, Jean?" 
 
 " Are you trying to re-awaken Feleki s love for 
 you ? " he hotly demanded. 
 
 " Oh, you are jealous! " she exclaimed with play 
 ful amusement, " but you needn t be, because I m 
 not unfaithful to you." Tipping back her head, she 
 looked mockingly at him through her long lashes, and 
 then, with serpentine grace, went close to him. 
 " Don t be afraid that you ll lose me, Jean, because 
 you won t, you can t ! " she sweetly said, and puck 
 ering her full, red lips, enticingly held them up to 
 him. 
 
 His resolution to accept Gwendolyn s fortune was 
 consumed and forgotten in the witchery of her 
 beauty. He could not see beyond her ardent eyes 
 
188 THE FLAME 
 
 and alluring lips, and was disarmed by the force of 
 her magnetic personality. Her fascinating gaze 
 drew and held him, and with a hoarse, broken ex 
 clamation, he caught her in his arms and roughly 
 crushed her to his heart. 
 
 " Jean ! " she murmured with a fervid little thrill 
 in her voice, and her arms stole round him. 
 
 Suddenly, with an oath, he wrenched himself from 
 her grasp, and seizing his hat, but forgetting his 
 cane, which he had dropped, flung open the door 
 and hurried from the room, violently shutting the 
 door behind him. 
 
 Camille watched him with startled surprise, but 
 when he was gone, she threw herself on the couch 
 and laughed aloud with sarcasm and victory. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 JEAN MARIE hurried on through the corridor, 
 maddened, not only with disgust for his weak 
 ness, but with the realization of Camille s bewitching 
 power over him. Why had he not the strength to 
 resist her enchantment? Why did he allow her per 
 sonality to dominate him? In a rage, he went back 
 to the Fairmont, knowing that he had made a fool of 
 himself, and, although he had not heard Camille s 
 laughter, he could feel the sting of it, for he knew 
 she would ridicule him. 
 
 Feleki s call on Camille gave Jean Marie a pre 
 sentiment of danger. He believed that he under 
 stood Janos well enough to know that it was not 
 love that was making him seek her again. He was 
 positive that Camille had been the cause of this meet 
 ing. Perhaps she believed that Jean Marie had won 
 Gwendolyn and she had asked Feleki to help her 
 make the Prince s marriage impossible. If this were 
 true, Feleki had now the opportunity to avenge him 
 self for the wrong that Jean Marie had done him 
 and Camille. 
 
 The Prince could not understand Camille. For 
 the first time since they had been together, he began 
 to doubt the sincerity of her love for him. He had 
 a sudden fear that her first meeting with Janos in 
 .San Francisco had re-awakened the old love that 
 
 189 
 
190 THE FLAME 
 
 Jean Marie had believed was dead. If his supposi 
 tion were true, he was in a desperate situation, stand 
 ing between two advancing fires, without a way of 
 escape. Feleki had free access to the Rolfe home 
 and he had the advantage of Richard s friendship, 
 which Jean Marie knew that he himself had not. 
 
 It would be of no use for him to take Camille s 
 life while Feleki was in the city. If she were con 
 spiring against Jean Marie and Feleki had lent him 
 self to her scheme, he would be more determined than 
 ever to ruin the Prince, because, although Janos 
 never could prove it, he would believe that Jean 
 Marie had been the cause of her death. But how 
 long must he wait before Feleki would leave the city? 
 Janos had said one night in the Rolfe home that he 
 would not begin his concert tour until December, 
 when he would appear in New York. It was now 
 only the first week in July, and he might remain 
 these six months in San Francisco. If he did, Jean 
 Marie knew that these months would be lost to him, 
 because he now must be careful and not manifest in 
 Feleki s presence anything deeper than friendship 
 for Gwendolyn. And during this wasted time, Jean 
 Marie was in danger of losing his influence over her, 
 because he surmised that Richard was encouraging 
 Cavarodossi to pay court to his sister, and Mario 
 was a rival to be feared, especially since he had 
 proved himself either too shrewd or too noble to 
 yield to Camille s fascination. 
 
 Jean Marie writhed inwardly when he thought that 
 he must for some time take money from Camille. It 
 was not outraged honor that rebelled against accept- 
 
THE FLAME 191 
 
 ing favors from her; it was vanity, because he be 
 lieved that she would not be giving with her former 
 generous love. He wondered what had brought her 
 from France. Was it love, or desire to regain the 
 money she had given him, or had she suspected by 
 his months of silence that he was planning to betray 
 her trust in his promise not to marry an heiress, but 
 to earn money and send for her to come to him in 
 America? It could not have been love altogether 
 that had brought her to San Francisco, because she 
 had belittled him here as she never had in Paris. 
 He could not forget how she had given him money to 
 pay for his paintings in the presence of Mr. Walsh, 
 the art dealer. In France she never had so humili 
 ated him. She always had been dangerous and he 
 always had been on the alert for her unexpected 
 moods and caprices, but never had she publicly ex 
 posed his poverty and dependence upon her. 
 
 The fears and doubts that were swarming his 
 mind set his emotions in a turmoil and he knew that 
 he must control himself, for Gwendolyn had invited 
 him to dinner and he dared not let her suspect his 
 agitation. He stood rigid for a moment and drew 
 his muscles to a tension, then slowly and deliberately 
 he went into his bedroom and took a glass of absinthe. 
 He combed his hair with great precision, re-arranged 
 his cravat, and brushed his clothes. Franois was 
 not present. When he was ready to leave, he looked 
 for his cane, and angrily remembered that he had left 
 it in Camille s apartments. He started off for a 
 brisk walk and it was more than an hour later that he 
 went to his club for luncheon. His friends never had 
 
192 THE FLAME 
 
 seen him more amiable and jovial, but any one who 
 knew him well would have known that his merriment 
 was forced. Dubois thought that he detected a false 
 ring in his gayety, but asked no questions. Perhaps 
 His Highness was angry with Camille. He might be 
 jealous, and Dubois wondered with some anxiety if 
 he were the unhappy cause, but the Prince s friendly 
 manner soon reassured him. 
 
 " I saw you the other day with a very beautiful 
 woman," said a gentleman to Jean Marie. " I think 
 she was French." 
 
 " Yes ? " The Prince elevated his brows with mild, 
 inquiring surprise, but he slightly reddened. 
 
 Another gentleman, noticing this, said with a sly 
 smile : " Yes, rumor has it that the fair lady has 
 ensnared you completely." 
 
 The man was jesting, but Jean Marie did not per 
 ceive that. His heart gave a sudden throb, and he 
 soon left with another fear added to his burden. He 
 never again would be seen with Camille in public. 
 Suppose Mr. Rolfe should hear of her! 
 
 It was half after three when he went to dress for 
 dinner. He did not know whether there were to be 
 other guests at Gwendolyn s home, and he intended 
 to arrive early, that he might have an opportunity 
 to see her alone and strengthen her love for him by 
 still more strongly and poetically expressing his 
 adoration for her. He was very particular how 
 Fran9ois dressed him, and the valet was puzzled to 
 understand what it could be that was making the 
 Prince so irritable of late. It was an alarming sign 
 
THE FLAME 193 
 
 when His Highness lost his amiability for any length 
 of time. 
 
 When the butler admitted Jean Marie, he told him 
 that Gwendolyn was not at home, but that Mr. Rolfe 
 had just come in, and he took the Prince into the 
 library, where Richard was reading. Jean Marie 
 made some forcible comments mentally, but as this 
 was the first time that he and Richard had been alone 
 together, he must make a favorable impression. 
 
 " I trust I am not interrupting an interesting 
 story," he said, going forward, and giving Richard 
 a cordial handshake. 
 
 " No. I was studying rather than reading. It 
 is a constant work for a business man to keep posted 
 on the many questions that are always coming up. 
 I am studying law at present." 
 
 Richard s sharp gray eyes rested searchingly upon 
 Jean Marie s dapper form and he wondered what it 
 was about this dainty exquisite that attracted Gwen 
 dolyn. There was nothing effeminate about Jean 
 Marie, but to Richard, with his rugged strength and 
 American vigor and bluntness, he seemed rather a 
 toy than a man. He could not understand why his 
 sister did not prefer Cavarodossi with his robust, 
 commanding physique and his handsome, noble face. 
 Richard never had met a man whom he liked better 
 than Cavarodossi, because Mario seemed to him a 
 hardy American with a European " polish." But 
 perhaps there were manly traits in Jean Marie s 
 character that he had not observed. " I ll sound 
 him," he thought, " and see if he rings true." 
 
194 THE FLAME 
 
 Jean Marie, standing by the massive center table, 
 daintily turned the pages of the book that Richard 
 had laid down. His slender white hands strongly 
 contrasted with Richard s, and the sturdy American 
 realized more than ever before that there never could 
 be a sympathetic feeling between the Prince and him 
 self. The racial difference was too evident ; the be 
 liefs and the self-centered education of the nobleman 
 were too dissimilar to that of the true American for 
 a harmonious understanding ever to exist. As Rich 
 ard studied Jean Marie, he knew there was no bridge 
 for the republican to cross that would bring him into 
 the heart of the royalist. The barrier was insur 
 mountable. Even the way in which Jean Marie 
 dropped into the chair near Richard, showed an in 
 dolence and a lack of purpose in life. Mr. Rolfe 
 knew that to the Prince existence had no deeper mean 
 ing than personal pleasure. 
 
 " This must be uninteresting reading," Jean Marie 
 said, with a languid smile. 
 
 " Yes, but we can t always cater to our tastes. I 
 know you regret not seeing my sister. She has gone 
 to the matinee." 
 
 " Oh ! " It was a mild exclamation, but Jean 
 Marie was disgusted. He must remain alone with 
 Richard for at least a half hour. " Miss Rolfe is 
 a charming girl and you must be very proud of her," 
 he earnestly added, dropping his slight drawl. 
 
 Richard sighed. " Yes, poor girl, she is sweet." 
 
 Jean Marie glanced at him with surprise. " Poor 
 girl ! " he echoed. " It seems to me that she is more 
 to be envied than pitied." 
 
T H E F L A M E 195 
 
 " One would think so, but she sometimes comes in 
 contact with people who are destined to bring her un- 
 happiness." 
 
 Jean Marie shot him a quick look. " Is she so 
 unfortunate? I don t understand." 
 
 Richard was idly toying with a paper-cutter, and 
 his eyes rested upon Jean Marie without any accus 
 ing light in them, as he answered : " She is unfor 
 tunate in always having some mercenary suitor after 
 her. It makes the poor girl wretched at times, es 
 pecially when someone in whom she has faith proves 
 false." 
 
 Jean Marie was entirely unprepared for this blunt 
 response, and for a moment he did not know how to 
 answer. 
 
 " There are so many sincere people in the world, 
 Mr. Rolfe, that I think their virtues atone for the 
 vices in others," he presently said. 
 
 " That may be, but for a sensitive girl like Gwen 
 dolyn it is hard to battle with the disagreeable things 
 in life. She is too trusting." 
 
 Jean Marie shrugged with uncertainty. " She is 
 very young and will soon learn." But he hoped that 
 she would not. 
 
 " I don t want her knowledge to come through a 
 bitter experience, as I fear it must." 
 
 Richard s frank tone had not changed, but Jean 
 Marie was most uncomfortable, for he believed there 
 was a personal thrust in Richard s words. 
 
 " You are so occupied, Mr. Rolfe, that I suppose 
 it is hard for you to give her the care she needs. 
 Perhaps she will marry before long and thus relieve 
 
196 THEFLAME 
 
 you of all responsibility." Jean Marie regretted 
 that he had let a tinge of sarcasm slip into his voice. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose she will marry and I hope she 
 doesn t make a mistake." There was a vehement 
 ring in Richard s tone, but Jean Marie was affected 
 only by the uncertainty of his success. 
 
 " No doubt you have high ambitions for her mar 
 riage, but don t believe that you are going to find a 
 perfect man combined with an exalted position, for 
 all of us are human, and that means not being above 
 temptation." Jean Marie s expression was very 
 grave. 
 
 Richard paused. " Yes," he said, slowly, " I have 
 high ambitions for her, but I don t think you under 
 stand them. You speak of an exalted position, but 
 I have no such thoughts for Gwendolyn s future hus 
 band. I want him to be simply a good man and not 
 too high in the social and financial world. I d rather 
 he d be a little too far down the ladder, if there must 
 be a fault, but with the pluck and ability to make his 
 way up. I m a staunch admirer of the middle-class 
 men, who are true, courageous, and willing to fight 
 a battle in the world. There is a place for every one 
 of them, and they are all heroes." 
 
 Jean Marie sat very quiet, his lips tightly com 
 pressed, struggling to subdue the anger that was 
 rising within him. He knew Richard had told him 
 this that he might understand that he never would be 
 a pleasing and suitable brother-in-law, but he laughed 
 to himself with exultant sarcasm when he thought 
 how he would defy Richard and marry Gwendolyn 
 without his consent. The only trouble lay in Rich- 
 
THE FLAME 197 
 
 ard s being the trustee of her estate. But he would 
 marry her! She loved him, and he knew the art of 
 enticement. Did this simple American believe he 
 could thwart a clever Parisian nobleman? Jean 
 Marie checked the sneer that was creeping to his 
 lips. 
 
 " Why do you wish your sister to marry a man 
 who would be beneath her and yourself? " he asked 
 with absolute control. 
 
 " Such a man as I have described would not be be 
 neath me. He would be any man s equal." 
 
 Jean Marie calmly smiled and shook his head. 
 
 Richard laughed. " Pardon me ! I should not 
 expect you to agree with me when you are a royalist 
 and I a republican. I fear we are very unlike in 
 every way." 
 
 Jean Marie raised a protesting hand. " Not so 
 unlike that we cannot harmonize and become staunch 
 friends, I hope." The Prince spoke in his most win 
 ning manner. 
 
 Richard politely bowed. " Thank you, but how 
 are we to begin? Are you willing to yield to me, 
 or are you going to ask me to surrender to you? It 
 will be an awful struggle to make a royalist of me. 
 I am stubbornly loyal to my colors." 
 
 " I don t want you to renounce your colors, Mr. 
 Rolfe, only let your flag have vertical stripes. It 
 would signify a change of ideas." 
 
 Richard laughed good-naturedly. " That is an 
 impossibility," he said. 
 
 " Then there can be no truce between us ? " Jean 
 Marie closely eyed him. 
 
198 THE FLAME 
 
 Richard hesitated. "Well, I don t know that 
 there need be war, exactly. But why don t you try 
 your hand at being an American? Invest your 
 money over here and learn to be a business man. 
 It s steady work and sometimes a little monotonous, 
 but, take it as a whole, it is a jolly good occupa 
 tion." 
 
 Jean Marie eyed him with surprise and disgust. 
 His Highness, the Prince de Bourbon, to become a 
 bourgeois ! The idea was preposterous. Then, with 
 another quick glance at Richard, he wondered if he 
 were being ridiculed. But if Richard suspected that 
 he was penniless, there was no hint of it in his face. 
 
 " I don t agree with you, Mr. Rolfe, about its 
 being a jolly occupation. I never could be as clever 
 as you. I think one must be born with a gift for fig 
 ures and a love for commerce." 
 
 " What would you do if you should lose your 
 money? That would be the time that our middle- 
 class man would step into the field and win." 
 
 Jean Marie carelessly shrugged. " I ll trust to 
 luck." 
 
 Richard smiled and shook his head. " You never 
 will be a republican, but Cavarodossi is one. He 
 said the other day that the first thing a man should 
 do is to learn how to make a living, so, if he ever is 
 forced to fall back upon his own resources, he can 
 support a wife and family. And that is my opin 
 ion. We never can tell when Fate is going to trick 
 us." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Rolfe, you are quite a bourgeois ! " 
 Jean Marie laughed lightly. He was positive now 
 
THE FLAME 199 
 
 that Richard was politely informing him that he need 
 not pay court to Gwendolyn, and he knew also that 
 Richard wished him to understand that Cavarodossi 
 was the preferred suitor. Jean Marie thought again 
 of these six critical months that he must lose if Feleki 
 remained in the city, and his anger leaped into a 
 flame, but he smothered it. He never could win 
 Richard ; he must work to vanquish him. 
 
 " You may call me anything you wish," Richard 
 said, good-naturedly. " I don t try to disguise the 
 fact that I m not an aristocrat, and Gwendolyn 
 wasn t educated to be one either. Like all girls, she 
 admires a true cavalier, but she is a full-fledged dem 
 ocrat at heart." Richard turned towards the door. 
 " I think I hear her now, so I ll leave you and dress 
 for dinner. She ll be here in a moment." He rose 
 and started from the room. " I m glad we have had 
 this little chat," he said, turning back. " It has 
 been very pleasant, and I think we understand each 
 other better." 
 
 Jean Marie rose. " Yes, I think we do," he 
 suavely said, giving his most courtly bow, but as 
 Richard disappeared, he clenched his fists and mut 
 tered : " Imbecile ! " He was now figuring on a 
 triple revenge. Richard, Janos and Camille were to 
 be the victims. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 WHILE Feleki was in the city, Gwendolyn was 
 anxious to give a musicale at her home to 
 which she could invite two hundred or more of her 
 acquaintances. Richard advised her to make ar 
 rangements for the entertainment at once, because it 
 was uncertain how long the violinist would remain in 
 San Francisco. Mr. Rolfe knew that geniuses are 
 erratic and he would not have been surprised to hear 
 at any time that Feleki had suddenly left. 
 
 Gwendolyn did not tell Jean Marie of her plans 
 for the musicale. She wished to surprise him and 
 told only Richard of the programme she was arrang 
 ing and the number of artists who were to perform. 
 For a week she had been working on the programme, 
 selecting and combining the numbers she thought 
 would be the most effective. 
 
 It was the morning after Mr. Rolfe s conversa 
 tion with Jean Marie, and Richard, feeling very well 
 satisfied with himself and the unpleasant impression 
 he knew that he had made upon the Prince, sat in the 
 conservatory, reading the newspaper. Gwendolyn 
 entered, bringing her programme. 
 
 " Look, Dick," she said, giving him the paper, and 
 sitting on the footstool by his chair. " What do 
 you think of this? Can you suggest an improve 
 ment? " 
 
 Laying aside his newspaper, he gave the pro- 
 200 
 
THE FLAME 201 
 
 gramme his serious attention. He had no knowledge 
 of music, but was pleased by her faith in his judg 
 ment. With childlike affection and trust, she laid 
 her pretty blonde head against his arm while he read. 
 For a moment his eyes rested lovingly upon her deli 
 cate profile and her golden curls, and he felt a tight 
 ening in his throat, realizing that this dubious French 
 nobleman was designing to rob him of his little sister. 
 He knew it was not love that was making the Prince 
 seek her. Without any fear, he could give her into 
 Cavarodossi s keeping, but Bourbon s He closed 
 his eyes and frowned. 
 
 " This is very interesting," he presently said, " and 
 I congratulate you." He slipped his arm round her 
 and she looked up and smiled. 
 
 " I m glad you like it. I have asked Mr. Cavaro- 
 dossi to sing. At first he refused, saying that he is 
 only a musical dilettante, but I coaxed and begged, 
 and finally he consented." 
 
 " He would do anything for you, Gwen." Rich 
 ard gave her an expressive glance. 
 
 She blushed. " Well, he has promised and I know 
 he ll keep his word. I have arranged for all the 
 artists, but I can t decide on a soprano. I asked 
 Mr. Cavarodossi if he knows of any one who could 
 sing the operatic arias I have selected, but he doesn t. 
 He thinks that I had better engage a soprano from 
 the opera company, if I can. What would you do, 
 Dick?" 
 
 " A scene from " La Tosca " for tenor and so 
 prano and a duet from " Rigoletto " for soprano and 
 baritone, " he read. 
 
202 THE FLAME 
 
 " Yes," broke in Gwendolyn, " and I want the so 
 prano to sing, My heart at thy sweet voice opens 
 wide like the flowers which the morn s kisses waken, 
 from Samson and Delilah. That is such a beauti 
 ful, appealing aria. It will require a woman with a 
 splendid voice." 
 
 " Suppose I talk with Cavarodossi s friend, De Lu 
 cia. I see you have his name down here for three 
 Neapolitan songs. He may know of some soprano ; 
 if he doesn t, he may be able to make arrangements 
 with one of the opera singers. He is around the 
 theater every night and knows all the artists." 
 
 " Yes, do ask him," Gwendolyn quickly said. " I ll 
 give him charge of the programme and he can en 
 gage all the performers." 
 
 " Very well. I ll take my luncheon to-day at the 
 Italian restaurant where he usually goes, and if I 
 see him, I ll give him this programme and let him 
 make the arrangements." 
 
 "Do you think I have allowed time enough?" 
 Gwendolyn asked. 
 
 " Surely ! A week is sufficient, and will have to 
 be, since you have sent out your invitations," he 
 laughed. 
 
 " Won t it be lovely ! " She gleefully clapped her 
 hands. " This is the largest musicale I ever have 
 undertaken. Of course Monsieur Feleki will be the 
 greatest attraction, and I hope he will feel in the 
 mood to play ! " 
 
 " I have no fear for him," returned Richard. 
 * The only uncertain one is Bourbon. He seems to 
 be growing capricious of late. Wasn t he uninter- 
 
THE FLAME 203 
 
 esting last night? He appears to have something 
 troublesome on his mind. Did he tell you any 
 thing? " 
 
 " No, but he was rather quiet, wasn t he ? " Anx 
 iety was in Gwendolyn s voice and her troubled eyes 
 looked up searchingly into Richard s face. " I won 
 der what can be the matter? " 
 
 " It is hard to surmise. Noblemen seem to have 
 a knack for getting into scrapes. They are so self 
 ish and egotistical. Nobility isn t to my liking. 
 These royal chaps have the ego too highly devel 
 oped. Perhaps Bourbon is hard up. He may be 
 wanting to borrow from you, Gwen. But look 
 out ! He could swallow a million easier than he could 
 a pill." 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! " exclaimed Gwendolyn. " Don t be 
 foolish! Of course he doesn t need money." 
 
 Richard shrugged. " Time will tell," he said. 
 " But be careful, Gwen. He is amiable and courte 
 ous, but I feel he s dangerous. There is something 
 too suave in his manner. Just compare him to Cav- 
 arodossi ! There s a vast difference. Bourbon is 
 too sweet and affable to be sincere. You think I am 
 suspicious, Gwen, and perhaps it is a fault of mine, 
 but I d rather make a mistake that way than be too 
 trusting. Don t forget that he is a royalist, and 
 between us there is a sea of blood for our cause. 
 Don t cross that sea, Gwen, and show a disregard, a 
 lack of appreciation, for our martyrs and heroes. 
 We are not true Americans if we ally ourselves with 
 foreign nobility. High-sounding titles and musty 
 palaces shouldn t dazzle us. We have fought for 
 
204 THE FLAME 
 
 our freedom, and we mustn t show ourselves to be 
 backsliders by courting our vanquished foe, royal 
 oppression. Most of these noblemen do not feel a 
 true respect for us; they can t, because for genera 
 tions they have been taught to look down on a com 
 moner, and this disrespect is born in them; it is an 
 inheritance. They love our money, and perhaps 
 some of them in these advanced days really do love 
 and respect us, but it isn t so common a thing that 
 we can have faith in all of them." 
 
 " I know it, Dick, but there is nothing lofty nor 
 egotistical about the Prince de Bourbon. He is po 
 lite and courteous to every one." 
 
 " Yes, but I can feel the disdain beneath his af 
 fability," Richard protested, and with a quick burst 
 of feeling, added : " It is plain enough, Gwen, that 
 he is trying to win you, but don t yield to him, I 
 beg. You can t possibly love him; the difference is 
 too great. He can only dazzle you and arouse your 
 desire to live in the romance and chivalry of the 
 days when royalty was supreme. He can thrill you 
 with his tales of mystery, adventure and glory, but 
 this isn t love, dear girl; it is a play on your im 
 agination, and you are tempted to treat it as a re 
 ality, the same as when a child reads fairy tales, 
 it has a vain hope that fairies and goblins really do 
 exist and it loves to make pictures and live in this 
 imaginary, roseate world. But don t be beguiled into 
 this dreamland, Gwen. You would soon awaken and 
 find that you could not be happy in his world. His 
 palaces would be dungeons and the authority he 
 would assert over you would be chains." 
 
THE FLAME 205 
 
 Gwendolyn listened with a mingling of sorrow 
 and reproach, yet in her inmost heart there was the 
 apprehension that left her only when Jean Marie 
 was present. She feared that Richard s words might 
 be true, for she knew the Prince s life in France 
 must be very different from her American home 
 training, but Jean Marie was sweet and gentle and 
 his nature seemed incapable of harshness or tyranny. 
 She knew that Richard understood the world better 
 than she, yet she felt that he was prejudiced against 
 Jean Marie and was unjust to him. 
 
 " I m not going to let myself be chained," she 
 presently said, with a little smile. " Don t fear for 
 me, Dick, but I think you are a trifle unkind to the 
 Prince de Bourbon. He always has been friendly 
 with you, and I don t see that he ever has given you 
 a cause to doubt him." 
 
 " That is all the more reason why you should lis 
 ten to me, since it is instinct that makes me sus 
 picious of him. I don t want to preach to you, 
 Gwen, only be careful, and don t be afraid to ana 
 lyze and dissect this whole affair. Have you abso 
 lute faith in him? " 
 
 Gwendolyn hesitated and looked away. Richard 
 felt a sudden thrill. The Prince had not won her 
 completely. 
 
 " I think, Dick," she said slowly and f alteringly, 
 " that there always is a strange feeling where a for 
 eigner is concerned. What shall I call it? A feel 
 ing of alienship, perhaps. Maybe we have that 
 doubt or anxiety, or whatever it is, because we are 
 of a different race and education." 
 
206 THE FLAME 
 
 " Does Cavarodossi inspire you with any doubt or 
 fear? " he asked. 
 
 " No," she slowly admitted. " Somehow he seems 
 different." 
 
 " Yes, he does, and you must seriously analyze 
 this difference." Richard patted Gwendolyn s 
 cheeks, and glancing at his watch, rose. " I must 
 go or I ll be late for an appointment. Shall I take 
 this programme and give it to De Lucia? " 
 
 " Yes, and tell him I must have the best soprano 
 he can secure. Good-by ! " She threw her arms 
 around his neck and kissed him. 
 
 When she was alone, she dropped into the chair 
 Richard had left and she did analyze and dissect the 
 difference between Cavarodossi and Jean Marie, and 
 her better judgment gave the preference to Cavaro 
 dossi, while her romantic nature and her sentiment 
 succumbed to Jean Marie s fascination. 
 
 Towards evening Richard telephoned to her that 
 De Lucia had gladly consented to take charge of the 
 programme and had suggested a scprano with a 
 brilliant voice, just the kind Gwendolyn wanted, and 
 Richard was going with him after dinner to hear the 
 woman sing. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 JEAN MARIE could not forget his unsatisfac 
 tory meeting with Richard, and his feeling for 
 the American had ripened into the most bitter hatred. 
 He knew that Gwendolyn s character had not yet 
 matured, and he wondered whose influence would be 
 the stronger over her, his or her brother s. His 
 vanity as well as his desperate need of her fortune 
 tempted him to believe that his power would be the 
 more potent. 
 
 In the afternoon of the day following his dinner 
 at Gwendolyn s, he realized with renewed determina 
 tion how necessary was his marriage with her. He 
 was presented with two bills amounting to two hun 
 dred and fifty dollars for clothes and motor-car hire, 
 and he had not the money with which to pay. Again 
 he must go to Camille. There was no alternative. 
 He could have borrowed from Dubois, and the little 
 Frenchman would have lent gladly, even have given 
 this sum to His Highness for the honor of favoring 
 the bearer of so exalted a title, but Jean Marie 
 dared not expose his poverty to his associates. Du 
 bois might have some intimate friend in whom he 
 would confide, and the starting of a rumor concern 
 ing Jean Marie s poverty would mean his ruin. Mr. 
 Rolfe would soon hear of it and cheerfully believe it. 
 
 Jean Marie s first thought was to take Camille 
 207 
 
208 THE FLAME 
 
 out to dinner, but he changed his mind, realizing 
 that he must not be seen with her in public. He de 
 cided to call in the evening, and was anxious to post 
 pone the disagreeable meeting as long as possible. 
 He expected her to greet him with sarcastic amuse 
 ment, and he did not know whether he could control 
 his rage and humble himself to ask her for money. 
 
 It was after nine o clock when he entered Ca- 
 mille s hotel. Pride was dragging him back and ne 
 cessity was forcing him onward. As he reached the 
 corridor leading to her rooms, he heard her voice 
 ringing out with all its passion and glory in an aria 
 from "La Tosca," " Vissi d Arte." He abruptly 
 halted and caught his breath. There was a new ring 
 of triumph in her voice. Her dashing, brilliant soul 
 was bursting from her lips without restraint, and 
 Jean Marie could feel that she was glorying in her 
 power. He was strangely stirred by her magnetism, 
 as he stood in the corridor, wondering whether he 
 should go on or turn back. But her voice drew him ; 
 he must know what had intensified the passion in her 
 art. As the song ended, a quick burst of applause 
 greeted her, and Jean Marie stood still, inwardly 
 trembling, but curiosity urged him on. He knocked 
 on her door, and Celeste opened it. 
 
 On the opposite side of the room, facing the 
 Prince, stood Richard Rolfe. Jean Marie blanched 
 and fell back a step. The next instant he had 
 steadied himself, but was powerless to speak. His 
 first thought was that Richard had heard of the ru 
 mor told at the club, that Camille had ensnared the 
 Prince completely. Had Mr. Rolfe sought her that 
 
THE FLAME 209 
 
 he might learn the truth? Perspiration broke out 
 on Jean Marie and he turned his terrorized eyes on 
 Camille. She shot him back a look of sarcastic vic 
 tory, and an arch smile curved her red, disdainful 
 lips. He was lost ! He was ruined I Defeat forced 
 his chilled blood through him in a sickening riot. 
 He saw Camille coming towards him and he strug 
 gled to recover his voice. 
 
 " Your Highness is most welcome," she graciously 
 said, with a tinge of quiet surprise in her tone. 
 " This is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure." 
 
 Her dignity and her formal greeting astounded 
 him and reassured him. But what was this trick? 
 She introduced him to De Lucia, who had risen 
 from the piano-stool, and was nearest him, then she 
 presented him to Mr. Rolfe, with a frank, innocent 
 unconsciousness that shocked Monsieur Dubois, who 
 sat near the piano. 
 
 " The Prince and I are already acquainted," Rich 
 ard said, holding out his hand to Jean Marie and 
 wondering afterwards why the Frenchman s fingers 
 were so cold. He was not surprised that the Prince 
 was acquainted with Camille, because she had told 
 Richard that she knew Cavarodossi, and he also had 
 found Dubois comfortably smoking in her reception- 
 room when he arrived. 
 
 " Yes, we are friends," returned Jean Marie, but 
 his voice had not regained its natural sweetness. 
 
 " Mr. Rolfe is charmed with Mademoiselle s art," 
 said De Lucia. He was the Neapolitan baritone 
 whom Cavarodossi had taken to Camille s rooms when 
 she gave the first musical evening. 
 
210 THE FLAME 
 
 " How could he be anything else but charmed ? " 
 asked Dubois, flashing Camille a coquettish glance 
 and rubbing his pudgy fingers together. 
 
 Camille shook her fan at him. " Flatterer ! " she 
 exclaimed. " You are trying to turn my head. 
 Isn t he, Mr. Rolfe?" 
 
 Richard laughed at the absurdity of it, but was 
 attracted by Camille s playful humor. He thought 
 she was an uncommonly refined woman to be a public 
 singer, and was surprised at her modest black gown 
 that was not even open at the throat. 
 
 " I never have heard a voice more brilliant and 
 magnetic than yours," he said. " The opera lovers 
 in Paris must worship you. Why have you never 
 tried for an engagement in this country ? " 
 
 Camille shrugged with pretty French grace. "I 
 have been willing to remain at home, but this year 
 I decided to try my fortune here. It is my inten 
 tion to see something of this country and then return 
 to New York this fall, with the hope that I can make 
 a contract with the Metropolitan Opera House. I 
 have been on the stage only three years, so I am 
 comparatively unknown." 
 
 Jean Marie studied her with puzzled anxiety. 
 She was pretending to be an opera singer! What 
 was the meaning of her ruse? He felt that a net 
 was binding him and the cords were cutting deep. It 
 was not for herself alone that she was deceiving Mr. 
 Rolfe. Jean Marie was positive that she was plan 
 ning to thrust him into a pit, and the reassurance 
 that he felt withered and died. He knew there was 
 danger when her eyes were coldly brilliant and her 
 
THE FLAME 211 
 
 cheeks were tinged with a deeper red. But he held 
 his outward manner in absolute control. 
 
 Dubois was shocked at her calm falsehoods, but 
 did not betray his astonishment. He was satisfied 
 so long as she was kind to him. Perhaps she thought 
 it more dignified to call herself an opera singer. 
 
 Camille offered Jean Marie a chair and sat oppo 
 site him, so that she could watch his face. 
 
 De Lucia was on the piano-stool again, looking 
 over some music. 
 
 " You certainly would make a success here," said 
 Richard, settling back on the divan, " and I hope to 
 have the pleasure of saying that you made your 
 American debut in my home." 
 
 Jean Marie flashed him a horrified glance. 
 
 Camille s heart fluttered, but she calmly asked: 
 "Do you wish me to sing for you? " 
 
 " Yes. I must confess now that it was for this 
 reason that I came here to-night. My sister is going 
 to give a musicale and De Lucia truthfully told me 
 that you can surpass any soprano in the city. Will 
 you be at liberty to sing for us a week from to-night, 
 Saturday? " 
 
 Jean Marie was paralyzed with terror. He looked 
 at Camille and saw victory pulsating through her 
 body. She was leaning forward, her bright eyes de 
 vouring Richard, and an exultant laugh trembling on 
 her artful lips. 
 
 " Yes," she said with undisguised eagerness, " I ll 
 sing for you with pleasure, and you cannot imagine 
 the gratification it will give me." She did not try 
 to crush the thrill in her voice. 
 
212 THEFLAME 
 
 Her burning eyes turned on Jean Marie, as he 
 sat stunned, and the triumph in her face warned him 
 of his ruin. 
 
 " You can make all arrangements with De Lucia," 
 Richard said, courteously bowing in answer to her 
 words. " My sister will be delighted to know that 
 I have found a great soprano. This above all was 
 worrying her." 
 
 " Please don t tell any one about me," Camille said, 
 with a light laugh. " I don t w r ant your sister to 
 hear me until the night of the musicale. I wish to 
 surprise her agreeably, if I can, and half the pleas 
 ure would be gone if she should hear me sing before 
 Saturday night." 
 
 Jean Marie sat like a statue, but his heart was 
 hammering violently. He kept his gaze riveted to 
 the floor, because he was afraid that his eyes would 
 betray his alarm. 
 
 Dubois was very uncomfortable. He glanced 
 nervously from Camille to Jean Marie, and saw that 
 the blood was drained even from the Prince s lips. 
 He believed that His Highness was being wedged 
 into a dangerous corner, but he dared not interfere, 
 not understanding the predicament nor knowing how 
 to save him. 
 
 " I don t know that we can keep you a secret," 
 said Richard. " I believe my sister has you and 
 Cavarodossi on the programme for a scene from La 
 Tosca. I suppose you ll have to rehearse with 
 him." 
 
 " No," Camille quickly protested. " Twice I have 
 sung all the tenor and soprano scenes with him in 
 
THE FLAME 213 
 
 Tosca, and he knows the opera well. Keep me a 
 mystery. It will be great fun, and he ll be so sur 
 prised to see me." 
 
 Richard smiled. " Very well," he agreed. " So 
 long as you wish it, we will keep you a mystery. It 
 will add some excitement to our musicale. But per 
 haps Cavarodossi will refuse to sing with a woman 
 who will not divulge her identity." 
 
 " Don t fear. My identity won t be a secret 
 long." There was a playful tone in her voice, but it 
 cut Jean Marie like a knife. She had had some hid 
 den reason when asking Dubois to secure her an en 
 gagement to sing in the Rolfe home and the Prince 
 had withheld the little Frenchman from aiding her, 
 but now Richard himself had come and her object 
 would be accomplished! Jean Marie could hardly 
 stand as Mr. Rolfe rose to leave. 
 
 "Must you go so early?" Disappointment was 
 in Camille s voice. 
 
 " Yes. My sister has company and I promised 
 to return home by ten o clock." 
 
 " I am sorry, but I hope you will call again. It 
 has given me great pleasure to make your acquaint 
 ance, Mr. Rolfe." 
 
 " Thank you. I can sincerely return the compli 
 ment." 
 
 De Lucia made ready to leave with Richard, and 
 Dubois thought it advisable to do likewise. He 
 feared there might be a scene between the Prince and 
 Camille, and he did not wish to witness it. 
 
 " You surely won t fail us," Richard added. " My 
 sister would be greatly disappointed." 
 
214 THE FLAME 
 
 " Don t be uneasy, Mr. Rolfe," said Camille, tak 
 ing his extended hand. " Next Saturday night will 
 be one of the happiest events of my life." 
 
 Richard bowed over her hand, said good-night to 
 Jean Marie, and stepped out into the corridor, fol 
 lowed by De Lucia and also by Dubois, who gave 
 Camille a last exaggerated compliment, hoping to 
 delight her. 
 
 She closed the door behind them and turned to Jean 
 Marie with a sarcastic laugh in her bewitching eyes. 
 
 The Prince took a quick, threatening step towards 
 her. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " he hotly de 
 manded. " What are you scheming to do ? " 
 
 Camille brushed past him and went towards the 
 piano. " I don t understand your asking the mean 
 ing of this, and surely it was no scheme of mine," 
 she calmly said. " De Lucia telephoned to me late this 
 afternoon that he would call this evening and bring 
 Mr. Rolfe, who wished to engage a soprano to sing 
 at a musicale to be given in his home, and De Lucia 
 believed that I would suit admirably. That is the 
 history of my meeting with Mr. Rolfe, and I think he 
 is a very pleasant man." 
 
 Jean Marie closely watched her. The brilliancy 
 was still in her eyes, but the triumph had faded, or 
 had he in his fright imagined it to be there ? 
 
 " I m sure, Jean, I treated you very fairly. I 
 called you t Your Highness, and acted as though you 
 were no more to me than a mere acquaintance. Could 
 I have done more? " 
 
THE FLAME 215 
 
 Jean Marie was forced to admit that she could not, 
 but he knew in his own heart that she had a hidden 
 scheme. His fears and his nerves were in such a riot 
 that he dared not remain with her longer. He could 
 not prevent her going to the Rolfe home, but he must 
 set his energies on finding a way to thwart whatever 
 plan she had in mind. 
 
 " Why did you call yourself an opera singer? " he 
 sharply asked. 
 
 Cold, hard lines drew in her face. " Because I am 
 ashamed of my cafe fame. When I tell where I have 
 been singing, I feel that my horrible life has been 
 disclosed." She drew her hand quickly across her 
 forehead, and her hatred of Jean Marie flamed in 
 her eyes, as she said with a purring little laugh: 
 " We ll have a little of the Rolfe money, after all. 
 They should pay me well." 
 
 Jean Marie would not trust himself to answer, but 
 took up his hat and overcoat. Fear made him dizzy 
 and weak, and he thought no more of the money he 
 had come for. 
 
 " Are you going? " she asked with surprise. " I 
 thought you would stay with me." 
 
 " No," he snapped. " I m going home," and he 
 opened the door. 
 
 " Oh, Jean," she sweetly called to him. " Here is 
 your cane. You went off in such a hurry the other 
 day that you forgot it." 
 
 Turning back, he impatiently seized it and could 
 not resist a glance at her. Her long lashes were half 
 shading her dangerous, glowing eyes and her lips 
 
216 THE FLAME 
 
 were parted with a taunting smile. He could feel 
 the victory that she was hiding, and he turned away 
 with an inward shudder from the stinging gaze that 
 enveloped him. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AS Jean Marie went down the corridor, Camille s 
 brilliant, exultant voice followed him in an aria 
 from " Fedora." Even when he had reached the 
 street, her voice was echoing in his ears, and it burned 
 his blood, like a poison. Without a doubt she was 
 planning his destruction. He could hear it in her 
 vibrant tones and the last glance she had given him 
 had betrayed her treachery. Had De Lucia taken 
 Mr. Rolfe to her unasked, or had she conspired with 
 the baritone to secure the engagement for the musi- 
 cale ? 
 
 Jean Marie knew that he must control himself and 
 critically study his perilous position. In his anger, 
 he might be tempted to commit a reckless folly. He 
 believed now that he had seen triumph in Camille s 
 eyes, but what was she planning to do? It did not 
 occur to him that she might denounce him, publicly, 
 but if it were Gwendolyn only whom she wished to 
 reach, he wondered why she did not go to her as she 
 once had threatened she would to cause some excite 
 ment and relieve the monotony of her existence. He 
 was deeply puzzled, knowing that he could not easily 
 understand her trickery. Another fear had come to 
 him when Camille had said that Mr. Rolfe was a 
 very pleasant man. Would she ruin the Prince and 
 make it impossible for him to win the Rolfe millions 
 
 217 
 
218 THE FLAME 
 
 and then captivate Richard and have the fortune at 
 her own disposal? He knew that the American was 
 shrewd and self-possessed, but he did not believe that 
 any man could withstand Camille s witchery. This 
 new fear set Jean Marie s emotions in such a tumult 
 that he could not steady his thoughts for some time 
 after arriving at the Fairmont. He had seen a 
 frank, undisguised admiration for Camille in Rich 
 ard s eyes, also he had noted Camille s modest attire, 
 and this substantiated his apprehension, yet Jean 
 Marie could not believe that this scheme had any es 
 sential connection with her desire to gain an entrance 
 to the Rolfe home. 
 
 With desperate anxiety and disgust, the Prince 
 threw himself into a chair in his " study " and rested 
 his tired head in his hands. He felt a weakening re 
 action after his terror at meeting Mr. Rolfe, and for 
 a time, sat with his eyes closed, struggling to calm 
 himself and concentrate his thoughts upon the 
 thwarting of Camille s designs for the musicale. 
 
 At first, he decided to decline Gwendolyn s invita 
 tion, which he already had accepted. He could make 
 the excuse of a sudden illness, but his better judg 
 ment told him that when Gwendolyn would see Ca 
 mille, she would understand this " illness," and would 
 realize at once that the story he had told about his 
 foolish infatuation for the woman was untrue. Gwen 
 dolyn would know that he was afraid to confront the 
 singer in her presence, and if he were afraid, it would 
 be proof that there had been something more than 
 an innocent flirtation between them. And what 
 would Richard think of his absence? It would be 
 
THE FLAME 219 
 
 throwing every advantage into Camille s hands, giv 
 ing her the opportunity to use his absence as a proof 
 against him, and Mr. Rolfe would quickly accept the 
 evidence, because it would be the first invitation of 
 that kind that Jean Marie ever had declined. 
 
 Although Gwendolyn had not told the Prince of 
 the programme she was arranging, she had spoken 
 several times of the musicale and said that it was the 
 largest entertainment she had undertaken, and he had 
 shared in her enthusiasm and encouraged her to 
 make the affair a brilliant success. She had gratified 
 his vanity by speaking of his accomplishments as an 
 entertainer, and he had said that he would gladly as 
 sist her and Mr. Rolfe in receiving the guests. This 
 was the opportunity he desired to prove to society 
 that he was perfectly at ease in the Rolfe home, and 
 he knew that Feleki would not be mingling with the 
 people and watching him. If he should refuse to be 
 present now that Camille was engaged to sing, the 
 evidence against him would be indisputable and he 
 decided that it would be better to go to the musicale 
 and brave the consequences, especially as he had no 
 proof that Camille intended to do anything. If she 
 attempted to create a scene before Gwendolyn or 
 Richard, Jean Marie would brand her as an ad 
 venturess, and surely the word of His Highness of 
 Bourbon would stand against that of a cafe singer! 
 But would Feleki defend Camille and tell that she was 
 the Diane Godin whose history he had related? He 
 would if he were conspiring with her against Jean 
 Marie. Yet if he were leagued with her, why had he 
 not recommended her to Richard? 
 
220 THE FLAME 
 
 Jean Marie s thoughts were in a whirl and he did 
 not know what to believe, for one idea was contra 
 dictory to the other. He decided that the wisest 
 course he could follow would be to see Dubois the 
 next morning and have him try to induce Mr. Rolfe 
 to engage another woman. The Prince went to bed 
 with the vain hope of resting his exhausted mind. 
 
 In the morning he sent for Dubois, who listened 
 with evident uneasiness to the plan that the Prince 
 proposed. He did not wish to refuse His Highness 
 nor did he want to lose favor with Camille. 
 
 " Just hint at the idea of having another singer," 
 Jean Marie said as Dubois was leaving. " Don t 
 make any remark that would be too pointed. Only 
 arouse a doubt in Mr. Rolfe s mind as to her adapta 
 bility. You know how to do it, Dubois. You are 
 so clever." 
 
 The little Frenchman brightened, but did not re 
 gain his ease. 
 
 " Just touch on the points I have suggested," the 
 Prince added, taking Dubois s fat hand and pressing 
 it. " It will be a risky thing to let Camille gain an 
 entrance to the Rolfe home. She might disclose the 
 foolish infatuation I felt for her long ago, of which I 
 have just told you, and that would be most uncom 
 fortable. She is a tricky, spiteful little minx when 
 she wishes to be." Jean Marie laughed lightly. 
 " I m sure she has some object for being determined 
 to sing there. Don t you think so ? " 
 
 Dubois puckered his lips and was thoughtful. 
 " Yes," he said, slowly. " It does look suspicious." 
 
 " Decidedly so," agreed Jean Marie, " and I have 
 
THE FLAME 221 
 
 thought of something else. I fear we may lose her 
 bright companionship if she is not well guarded." 
 
 Dubois gave Jean Marie a quick, anxious glance. 
 " What do you mean? " he asked. 
 
 The Prince s tone was confidential. " Didn t you 
 notice how gracious she was to Mr. Rolfe and how 
 charmed he was with her ? " 
 
 " Yes." Dubois s worried eyes eagerly searched 
 Jean Marie s face. 
 
 " I m afraid," the Prince went on, " that if Mr. 
 Rolfe is brought in contact with her she will capti 
 vate him. Can t you understand how dazzling such 
 a fortune is to an ambitious woman like Camille? 
 Be careful ! Mr. Rolfe would guard her as he guards 
 his millions, and you would be out in the cold." 
 
 The anxiety in the little Frenchman s eyes redou 
 bled and he nervously coughed. He had flattered 
 himself that he was rising in Camille s esteem and 
 the thought of a dangerous rival like Mr. Rolfe was 
 alarming. Jean Marie had struck the right chord, 
 as he knew. Dubois had learned from the Prince 
 this morning that His Highness was wooing Gwen 
 dolyn and he was elated, being positive now that Jean 
 Marie felt no deep interest in Camille. The one 
 rival he had feared was removed, but Mr. Rolfe ! 
 
 " I ll do all I can to assist Your Highness," Du 
 bois said with unrestrained eagerness. " It surely 
 would not do for Mr. Rolfe to become interested in 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Certainly not," agreed Jean Marie, not asking 
 the reason why, but adding : " A millionaire is ca 
 pricious and thinks he can buy the earth. Mr. Rolfe 
 
222 THE FLAME 
 
 never would be serious with any woman who has been 
 in Camille s public position." 
 
 "No," sighed Dubois. "Poor Camille!" It 
 was the first time he had used her Christian name and 
 he felt a sudden thrill. " Your Highness can de 
 pend upon me to help you and her." There was an 
 emphatic little ring in his voice, but when he had left 
 Jean Marie and was on his way to the club for 
 luncheon in search of Mr. Rolfe, he lost his courage, 
 and not even for Camille s sake could he induce him 
 self to speak as strongly to Richard as he had in 
 tended. He did not relish mingling in other men s 
 affairs and he wished His Highness had attended to 
 this business himself. He felt timid about going to 
 the musicale and would be very glad when it was 
 over. He began to wonder why Camille had come to 
 San Francisco. Perhaps the " foolish infatuation " 
 of which Jean Marie had just told him, had been of 
 a more serious nature, but, and Dubois sighed senti 
 mentally, she was very kind to him, and she did not 
 appear to love the Prince. 
 
 When he reached the club, he found that Richard 
 had arrived before him, and was pleased with Mr. 
 Rolfe s invitation to sit at his table. 
 
 " Did you go back and finish your interrupted call 
 with the fair singer last night ? " asked Richard, with 
 a smile. 
 
 Dubois blushed and quickly raised a protesting 
 hand. " No. If I had been deeply interested, I 
 would have stayed." 
 
 "With Bourbon as a rival? The ladies seem to 
 like him." 
 
THE FLAME 223 
 
 " He is an estimable man." Dubois spoke with 
 conviction. 
 
 " Estimable, but dangerous. You looked very 
 much at home when I arrived last night with De 
 Lucia. Take care ! " Richard held up a warning 
 finger. 
 
 Dubois fidgeted on his chair and coughed with em 
 barrassment. 
 
 Richard added with sly humor : " Such eyes as 
 hers would pierce any man s heart." 
 
 Dubois gave him a quick, uneasy glance. " Even 
 yours, Mr. Rolfe?" 
 
 " Oh, I m a confirmed bachelor, but Who can 
 tell? " When he saw the little Frenchman s nervous 
 ness, he checked the smile that was rising to his 
 lips. 
 
 " Let us not speak of hearts and eyes," Dubois 
 said in a peevish tone. " I have been thinking all 
 the morning that she is not the one who should sing 
 at your musicale." 
 
 Richard gave him a surprised glance. " Why 
 not? I nerer have heard such a rich, magnetic 
 voice." 
 
 " It is not a matter of voice," Dubois returned. 
 " Sometimes she is rather capricious." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 Dubois faltered. " In her dress. She might go 
 to your home in a gown that would shock your sis 
 ter and her guests. Last evening she was modestly 
 attired, but " He hesitated. 
 
 " Don t let that disturb you," Richard said, 
 amused. " I ll send her a note and ask her to drape 
 
224 THE FLAME 
 
 herself with becoming modesty. Is there any other 
 objection? " 
 
 Dubois hitched his chair a little closer to the table. 
 
 " Sometimes she is a trifle erratic, and, Well, 
 you know, a little too gay and familiar, perhaps, for 
 a social gathering." 
 
 Richard laughed. " She won t mingle with the 
 guests. If she has an erratic spell no one will know 
 it but Cavarodossi, who is to sing with her, and I 
 can trust him to manage the affair with the proper 
 dignity and discretion." 
 
 Dubois reddened, knowing that Richard was ridi 
 culing him. " Of course," he said, with an attempted 
 carelessness, " she may be just as charming as she 
 was last night, but what does your sister think of 
 having a woman sing who will not divulge her 
 identity? " 
 
 " Gwendolyn is consumed with curiosity, and she 
 half believes that the artist is one of the opera sing 
 ers. The fair enchantress was right. The mystery 
 surrounding her adds excitement to our entertain 
 ment and I rather enjoy the deluge of questions I 
 know will be asked concerning her." 
 
 " But," said Dubois, " do you think Cavarodossi 
 will consent to sing with an unknown woman? " 
 
 " Yes. I have seen him this morning and told 
 him all about it. He laughed at the singer s caprice, 
 but was not in the least perturbed. He said he knows 
 4 La Tosca so well that he can sing it forward or 
 backward or any other way, and the lack of rehears 
 als doesn t trouble him in the least." 
 
 Dubois knew that he could not influence Richard, 
 
THE FLAME 225 
 
 so he said no more. After luncheon he telephoned 
 to Jean Marie that the millionaire s determination 
 could not be shaken. All His Highness could do 
 would be to have courage and await results. 
 
 This advice was anything but soothing to the 
 Prince. He hung up the receiver with an angry 
 fling, and whirling off, thrust his fists down deep into 
 his pockets. There was no one else to whom he 
 could appeal. Cavarodossi was not his friend, and 
 surely Feleki was not. He was almost tempted to 
 tell Gwendolyn whom her brother had engaged and 
 ask her to keep the woman from the house. He 
 knew Gwendolyn would gladly comply, but what 
 excuse could be made to Mr. Rolfe? If Richard 
 should see Camille again, she would for revenge be 
 tray Jean Marie. He tried to convince himself that 
 he had exaggerated the cunning triumph in her eyes. 
 He would go and see her, and he would call every 
 day and use his most persuasive arts to keep her in 
 good humor. 
 
 " What a beastly burden a woman can make of a 
 man s life ! " he thought as he angrily caught up his 
 hat and left the room, noisily shutting the door be 
 hind him. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE week passed uneventfully and the Saturday 
 that had been awaited with pleasure and fear, 
 arrived. By Gwendolyn and those associated with 
 her musicale, the day was greeted with various emo 
 tions. As soon as the morning dawned, Jean Marie 
 was awake, lying in his bed, the victim of a weaken 
 ing fear. He believed that this would be the most 
 critical day of his life, and he was powerless. Dur 
 ing the week, he had spent much of his time with 
 Camille, and she had been gracious and loving, too 
 loving, he thought, to be sincere. Dubois s advice 
 to " have courage and await results " was madden 
 ing, but it was all Jean Marie could do, and he knew 
 it. 
 
 All day Camille was exultant, nervous, and im 
 patient for night to come. Feleki was still happily 
 unaware that she had been engaged, and he awaited 
 the evening with pleasure, as did Cavarodossi, who 
 was glad to sing the scene from " La Tosca," know 
 ing that Gwendolyn would be thrilled. He could 
 speak to her heart with music more eloquently than 
 with words. 
 
 There were extensive preparations under way in 
 the Rolfe home, which Gwendolyn was superintend 
 ing. The musicale was to be given in the spacious 
 double drawing-rooms. At the farther end of the 
 
THEFLAME 227 
 
 second room, a stage had been erected and in front 
 of it were arranged twenty chairs for the orchestra, 
 that was to accompany the soloists. From the stage 
 to the door near the end of the room, leading into 
 the hall, were screens and palms, making a passage 
 for the artists, that they might not be seen until 
 they stepped upon the stage. In the front room a 
 hundred and fifty chairs had been arranged theater- 
 fashion and in the second room were fifty. The 
 stage was set as a conservatory, so the artists would 
 stand in the midst of the choicest and most beautiful 
 plants and flowers. Rare birds with radiant plum 
 age were fastened, lifelike, to some of the small trees 
 and palms, and above each bird, to display its bril 
 liancy, was an electric light, hidden in the entwining 
 branches. The rooms were to be softly lighted that 
 the performers might be in the strong glow of the 
 stage foot-lights and those arranged overhead to 
 shine down, unseen by the audience. 
 
 Richard was delighted with the electrical display 
 and the arrangement of everything and was doubly 
 proud because his sister was the originator. 
 
 Gwendolyn invited Jean Marie, Cavarodossi and 
 Feleki to dinner, but Janos declined the invitation, 
 saying that when he was to play in the evening, he 
 preferred to be alone all day until the hour of his 
 recital. Gwendolyn laughingly told Richard that 
 this was another caprice of genius, but, in truth, it 
 was because he could not sit through another meal 
 with Jean Marie. 
 
 At dinner, Gwendolyn again questioned Richard 
 concerning the mysterious soprano. 
 
228 THE FLAME 
 
 "Won t you let us into the secret, Dick? We 
 can t wait any longer, can we? " She glanced at 
 Jean Marie, and the smile he returned was some 
 what ghastly. 
 
 " Oh, but you must wait," Richard insisted. 
 " Signor Cavarodossi is patient and he is going to 
 sing with her." 
 
 Gwendolyn pouted. " Is she really pretty? " 
 
 " Magnificent ! Radiant ! Before the evening is 
 over every man will be at her feet. Are you 
 alarmed? " He laughed. 
 
 " No. But I don t believe all men are slaves to 
 beauty." 
 
 " Indeed not," answered Cavarodossi, in his quiet, 
 firm tones. " I have told you before that / worship 
 the beauties of the soul." 
 
 Gwendolyn flashed him an approving glance. 
 
 All during dinner, Jean Marie felt himself an out 
 sider, but would he be an outcast before the night 
 was over? When he had arrived, Gwendolyn had 
 told him that he was pale and did not look well, but 
 he had stoutly assured her that he never had been 
 better nor happier, because he was near her again. 
 
 As they rose from the table, she asked Cavarodossi 
 if he would take charge of the artists. 
 
 " Yes. Don t be anxious about anything. De 
 Lucia and I will be the joint impresari." He 
 smiled. 
 
 She took them into the breakfast-room, which 
 was back of the drawing-rooms, and showed them 
 how she had made a real theatrical dressing-room 
 of it. There was a dresser with paints, powder, 
 
T H E F L A M E 229 
 
 hair-pins, and everything necessary. She eagerly 
 caught Cavarodossi s arm and took him to the 
 dresser. 
 
 " Look! " she said, gleefully. " Isn t this fine? " 
 
 " Make-up galore ! " he exclaimed. " One would 
 think you had been born behind the scenes. Every 
 thing is splendidly arranged." He turned to Jean 
 Marie. " I most heartily congratulate her. Don t 
 you?" 
 
 The Prince stood forlornly still in the middle of 
 the room, apparently unconscious of his surround 
 ings. 
 
 " Yes," he said, rousing. " Mademoiselle is un 
 deniably clever," but there was no enthusiasm nor 
 even interest in his tone. 
 
 Gwendolyn s smiling lips drooped and she studied 
 him with disappointment and concern. Surely Rich 
 ard was right. There must be something trouble 
 some on his mind. Her brother s words came to her 
 again : " Noblemen seem to have a knack for get 
 ting into scrapes." She shrank from the thought. 
 Perhaps she had exaggerated his disinterested man 
 ner, but as they left the room, Cavarodossi said in a 
 low tone: 
 
 " What can be the matter with His Highness to 
 night? He seems bored." 
 
 Gwendolyn did not answer, nor did she have the 
 opportunity, for Cavarodossi hurriedly left her to 
 greet the orchestra men, who were arriving. The 
 director was the talented young violinist who had 
 played the gipsy solo in " Amico Fritz." Cavaro 
 dossi introduced him to Gwendolyn and she was 
 
230 THE FLAME 
 
 charmed with his fine, classical face. She looked for 
 Jean Marie, that he also might meet this interesting 
 artist, but the Prince had disappeared. She glanced 
 into the drawing-room, where the musicians were ar 
 ranging their chairs and music. Jean Marie was not 
 there. She crossed the hall and looked into the 
 library, but could not find him. With anxiety, she 
 went to the music-room and abruptly halted on the 
 threshold. 
 
 The Prince was in the dimly lighted room, pacing 
 the floor, with his hands clasped behind his back and 
 his head bent low. He did not notice Gwendolyn 
 until she was at his side. 
 
 "What is it, Jean?" she asked with a nervous 
 little quiver in her voice. " Can t I help you? " 
 
 He caught her hand, lying on his arm. " Gwen 
 dolyn," he said, and paused. " You do love me, 
 don t you? Tell me again that nothing can part 
 us." 
 
 She studied him with troubled surprise. " I have 
 told you, Jean, that you and you alone can separate 
 us. It could be only because I had proof that you 
 are unworthy." 
 
 He paled, and dropping her hand, turned his 
 head away. She was lost! Camille would vanquish 
 him! 
 
 "What is troubling you?" she begged. 
 
 " Wait," he murmured. " A disagreeable ordeal 
 is before me, but I am thinking of you, poor 
 dear ! " 
 
 " Jean ! " she exclaimed in alarm. 
 
 " Oh, you are here ! " said Richard in the door- 
 
THE FLAME 231 
 
 way. " Miss Morris, her brother and Mr. Dubois 
 have arrived." 
 
 " Have they ? " Gwendolyn threw a gay tone into 
 her voice. " I was just asking His Highness to 
 come and meet the young musical director, who re 
 sembles Liszt." 
 
 Jean Marie followed her out into the hall. Rich 
 ard gave him a scrutinizing glance and was annoyed 
 as well as curious to know w r hat had made the French 
 man so glum. He did not suspect that Camille s 
 coming was of any importance to him. 
 
 Monsieur Dubois was very profuse in his compli 
 ments to Gwendolyn, comparing her, with her sweet 
 young beauty, to Aphrodite, risen from the sea- 
 foam. The guests, who were rapidly arriving, 
 gathered round her, paying her homage. Jean 
 Marie braced himself and tried not to think of the 
 future. Dubois endeavored to cheer him and ex 
 pressed many friendly sentiments, but Jean Marie 
 was sure that if public opinion turned against him, 
 Dubois would not have the courage to defend him, 
 so he felt that he stood alone in the midst of the 
 whirlpool. 
 
 The musicale was to begin at nine o clock and it 
 was now half after eight. Some of the guests were 
 already seating themselves in the drawing-rooms and 
 were making comments on the interesting pro 
 gramme, with which every person was presented. 
 Gwendolyn fluttered about, happily forgetting for 
 the present Jean Marie s alarming words. She 
 greeted all of her friends with some cordial little 
 phrase, and so did Richard, but he was greatly an- 
 
232 THE FLAME 
 
 noyed with Jean Marie s familiar manner. If the 
 Prince had been Gwendolyn s acknowledged fiance, 
 he could not have been more at ease and attentive 
 to the guests. 
 
 When nine o clock came there were no vacant seats 
 in the drawing-rooms, and the orchestra assembled. 
 The first applause was given the young director, as 
 he made his appearance, for his exquisite solo in 
 " Amico Fritz " was well remembered. 
 
 The programme opened with the overture of 
 Rossini s " William Tell." It was enthusiastically 
 received, and while the director was bowing to the 
 audience, Gwendolyn came down from one of the 
 back rows, where she had been sitting, and slipped 
 into a chair that she had asked Jean Marie to keep 
 for her on the second row from the stage. He 
 pressed her hand, as she sat down beside him, and 
 she looked into his eyes with joyful pride. 
 
 " I congratulate you, sweetheart," he whispered. 
 " I am proud of you, dear ! " 
 
 A happy little thrill shot through her, and she 
 tightly clutched his fingers. 
 
 The next number was a harp solo. While this 
 was being played, Camille arrived with De Lucia, 
 and they were taken into the dressing-room. Only 
 Feleki and Cavarodossi were in the room, the other 
 artists being in the passage leading to the stage, 
 listening to the solo. 
 
 Camille stood for a moment in the doorway and 
 glanced from Feleki, walking up and down the room, 
 and silently fingering his violin, to Cavarodossi, who 
 was looking over some music. 
 
THE FLAME 233 
 
 " Good-evening, gentlemen ! " she said. 
 
 The two men swung round. Janos blanched and 
 gasped : 
 
 "Diane!" 
 
 As Camille went forward, she unfastened the long 
 black silk cape that enveloped her, and let it slip 
 to the floor. With a proud, self-satisfied smile and 
 love burning in her eyes as they rested on Janos, 
 she stood in radiant, barbaric splendor before the 
 astonished men. Her clinging, decollete gown was 
 of glossy scarlet silk, and she was ablaze with gems. 
 She wore a stomacher thickly studded with brilliants ; 
 her hands and arms were laden with diamonds, 
 and large diamond buckles were on her scarlet slip 
 pers. Around her beautiful throat was a collar of 
 brilliants, and encircling her hair, coiled high on her 
 head, was a gold band, holding three large stars of 
 the same stones. 
 
 Feleki and Cavarodossi were stunned by her glow 
 ing beauty and her dazzling display of jewels. 
 
 " Diane ! " Feleki repeated, at last. " What are 
 you doing here? " 
 
 " Mr. Rolfe has engaged me to sing," she said, 
 gaily. " I believe I am to give a scene from la 
 Tosca with you, Signor Cavarodossi." 
 
 " Yes," he murmured, still dumfounded. 
 
 "How did Mr. Rolfe know of you?" demanded 
 Janos. 
 
 " Signor De Lucia was kind enough to recommend 
 me." She turned to the baritone with a bewitching 
 smile that brought him a step closer. 
 
 Janos gave her a quick, indignant glance. " Why 
 
234 THE FLAME 
 
 did you accept the engagement? I asked you to 
 spare Miss Rolfe, and you promised to find some 
 other way." 
 
 " If I could," she added, sweetly, but " She 
 paused. Her face was radiant with exultant tri 
 umph and not even Janos could soften the glow. 
 " Don t be angry with me. I didn t seek this op 
 portunity. It is a miracle, that s all." With slow, 
 serpentine grace, she went past Feleki and Cavaro- 
 dossi and began to examine 1 her face, hair and cos 
 tume in the long mirror. 
 
 " For what am I to blame ? " De Lucia asked 
 Feleki. 
 
 " Time will tell," was the only answer. 
 
 The harp solo was ended and applause followed. 
 
 " Who is next on the programme ? " asked Camille, 
 turning round. 
 
 " You, Signorina," Cavarodossi said, " and I beg 
 of you 
 
 She interrupted him with a light laugh. " Do 
 you think I would spoil this lovely programme? 
 Certainly not ! " She took the card from him and 
 glanced over it. " Janos plays twice, I see," she 
 said, with more warmth in her voice. " Do you think 
 I would upset this arrangement and lose one tone of 
 his dear violin ? How little you know me ! Call the 
 orchestra director, will you, please? " she asked, 
 turning to De Lucia. 
 
 He went away and found the young musician 
 congratulating the harpist, who had just stepped 
 from the stage, and took him to Camille. The di- 
 
THE FLAME 235 
 
 rector paused in the doorway and, for an instant, 
 gazed at her with dilated eyes, then went slowly for 
 ward. She gave him an inimitable, coquettish 
 smile. 
 
 " I am on the programme for a solo from Samson 
 and Delilah, " she said, " and I want to give an 
 encore from the same opera, To-night ! Samson 
 makes his obeisance. Have you the music? " 
 
 " Yes." The director was still eyeing her jewels 
 with wonder. " We have the whole score." 
 
 " Very well. I suppose I should have been here 
 earlier. Poor De Lucia was worrying so, but, never 
 mind! I m not in the least nervous, only expectant." 
 She laughed and gave herself a last glance in the 
 mirror. " Do you think I ll make a success, Maes 
 tro?" 
 
 The director eyed her with a piquant challenge. 
 " Why do you ask ? You know it ! " 
 
 With a fascinating smile, she slipped her hand 
 through his arm. 
 
 " Come along ! " she said. " I think they are 
 waiting for us." 
 
 Feleki started forward, then halted and turned 
 away. 
 
 As Camille reached the foot of the steps leading 
 to the stage, she paused. Her blood was tingling 
 through her veins and she was swayed by the ex 
 citement that she tried to suppress. She mounted 
 the steps and as she came into view, she halted, and 
 her eyes slowly strayed over the audience. 
 
 A murmur of astonishment and pleasure went 
 
236 THE FLAME 
 
 round. Gwendolyn, with a stifled exclamation, half 
 rose from her chair and fell back again. She turned 
 to Jean Marie. He sat rigid and white. 
 
 " Is this the ordeal? " she faintly asked. 
 
 " Yes." He forced the strained, unnatural tone. 
 His eyes were angrily fixed on Camille. She was 
 sparkling with diamonds from head to foot, and he 
 had not a franc to call his own ! 
 
 As the director raised his baton and the music 
 began, Camille went slowly to the footlights, her silk 
 gown shimmering, her jewels blazing, and her eyes 
 aflame with pride and victory. 
 
 The gentleman beside Richard asked who this 
 goddess was. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Dubray," Mr. Rolfe answered, de 
 lighted at her instantaneous success, " but I would 
 call her The Flame. " 
 
 Camille s rich, vibrant tones rang out with all 
 their passion in the love song from " Samson and 
 Delilah." There were tenderness and ardor in her 
 voice, yet beneath it was the suggestive tinge of the 
 heartless conspirator, the true Delilah. Her eyes 
 rested upon Jean Marie with a languid familiarity 
 that made several people glance in his direction. 
 Not once did she look at Gwendolyn, who was trem 
 bling and shrinking from this dazzling woman. 
 
 The applause that greeted the song came with a 
 burst that echoed and reechoed through the rooms. 
 
 With queenly dignity, Camille bowed twice and 
 stood with a regal smile upon her proud lips until 
 the storm subsided, then she made a sign to the 
 director, and, as the opening bars of the next aria 
 
T H E F L A M E 237 
 
 were played, she walked slowly towards the piano 
 at the back of the stage and stood amongst the 
 greens and dainty flowers. Presently her voice 
 floated out with glory and triumph. Her eyes were 
 riveted on Jean Marie and the meaning in them was 
 poignantly significant. She sang: 
 
 To-night ! Samson makes his obeisance, 
 This eve at my feet he will lie ; 
 Now the hour of my vengeance hastens : 
 Our Gods I shall soon glorify ! 
 
 While the orchestra played the intervening bars, 
 she came a few steps nearer the footlights, and went 
 on with added fervor: 
 
 O Love, of thy might let me borrow ! 
 Pour thy poison thro Samson s heart ! 
 Let him be bound before the morrow, 
 A captive to my matchless art ! 
 In his soul he no longer would cherish 
 The passion he wishes were dead; 
 Can a flame like that ever perish, 
 Evermore by remembrance fed? 
 He rests my slave ; his feats belie him ! 
 My brethren fear with vain alarms, 
 I only, of all, I defy him, 
 I hold him fast within my arms ! 
 
 She sang on to the end of the aria, coming step 
 by step nearer the footlights. Her eyes left Jean 
 Marie in quick flashes, only to return with a new 
 stinging significance. 
 
 Gwendolyn s gaze did not leave Camille. She 
 
238 T H E F L A M E 
 
 feared the woman, she was jealous of her, and yet 
 she was fascinated by her wondrous beauty, her 
 rich voice, and her irresistible magnetism. Could it 
 be that Jean Marie had felt nothing more than a 
 passing fancy for this woman? Could any man 
 withstand her power when Gwendolyn was so un 
 willingly attracted? She was a blaze of light and 
 life, and Gwendolyn tore her eyes from the scarlet 
 woman and studied the contrast between herself and 
 Camille. Gwendolyn s gown was girlishly made of 
 soft white silk. Her only ornaments were ropes of 
 pearls wound once around her slender throat and 
 strings of the same gems were entwined in her fluffy 
 golden hair. Could she with her simplicity hold 
 Jean Marie from this radiant siren? Would he not 
 yield to her glorious beauty and attraction? Had 
 he already yielded? Her muscles tightened with a 
 jerk. She turned to him, and saw with a sudden 
 start that there was fear in his eyes as well as in 
 tense admiration. She remembered that there had 
 been fear in his eyes when she had found him pacing 
 the music-room before the guests had arrived. What 
 power had this woman to frighten him? Gwendolyn 
 shrank from him, trembling. For the first time, 
 she realized fully the alienship between herself and 
 the Prince of which Richard had spoken. This 
 scarlet Circe had some connection with his life. She 
 knew it. 
 
 Camille s song ended and the enthusiastic applause 
 was repeated. She acknowledged the ovation with 
 the same queenly dignity and left the stage. The 
 applause continued, but she did not return. 
 
THE FLAME 239 
 
 Gwendolyn glanced again at Jean Marie, but he 
 avoided her eyes. 
 
 " Who is this divine creature? " a gentleman asked, 
 leaning across to Gwendolyn. 
 
 " I don t know, * she answered with an effort. 
 " My brother engaged her." 
 
 " Her eyes were fixed on Your Highness," the 
 lady sitting back of Jean Marie said mischievously. 
 " Do you know her? Who is she? " 
 
 " I know her slightly. She is an opera singer 
 from Paris," he answered in a strained tone. 
 
 Gwendolyn half turned her back on him and began 
 to converse animatedly with the gentleman beside her. 
 The Prince knew that she was avoiding him. 
 
 Feleki was next on the programme, and Cavaro- 
 dossi stayed with him until they reached the steps at 
 the foot of the stage. 
 
 "Be brave," Mario said gently. "Don t think 
 of this dangerous singer. Play to your Diane." 
 
 Janos pressed his hand. " I ll try," he mur 
 mured. " But I don t know how I ll play, my emo 
 tions are so overwrought." He went up on the 
 stage, followed by his accompanist. 
 
 He was given a prolonged and heartfelt greeting, 
 which he scarcely heard, so intent he was on master 
 ing himself. The first notes he drew of the " In 
 troduction and Rondo Capriccioso " by Saint-Saens 
 were almost timid, but presently he forgot Camille 
 and played to his ideal Diane, as he did at every 
 concert. When the great applause had ceased and 
 he had given an encore, he left the stage and found 
 Camile standing in the doorway at the end of the 
 
240 T H E F L A M E 
 
 passage. As he went towards her, she exclaimed in 
 broken tones: 
 
 " Janos ! Janos ! " then she turned and walked 
 away. How his soul, his art had developed since 
 she had left him ! She was proud of him ! She 
 gloried in his triumph, and she knew that it was the 
 love he had felt for her that had awakened this great 
 feeling and passion in his art. The loss of her ha.d 
 broken his heart and he was expressing his un- 
 happiness and desperation with his violin. She went 
 back into the dressing-room and sat by Cavarodossi, 
 who watched her changing countenance with uneasi 
 ness. 
 
 Janos entered and received the congratulations 
 of De Lucia and the few who were in the room. He 
 did not glance towards Camille. She felt a sudden 
 tightening in her throat and tears were forcing them 
 selves to her eyes. He would not look at her, but she 
 might have been his honored wife ! Jean Marie had 
 come between them, poisoned her mind, and made her 
 worthy only of Feleki s disdain. And Janos had 
 asked her not to denounce the Prince publicly! A 
 storm of indignation, misery and hatred of Jean 
 Marie swept through her, and she sprang to her feet, 
 impatient for her victory and his ruin. 
 
 Cavarodossi understood, and rising laid his hand 
 on her arm. 
 
 " You mustn t do it," he said. " Remember Bour 
 bon is not the only one concerned." 
 
 Drawing away, she went to the dresser. She was 
 stifling, desperate. 
 
 Cavarodossi glanced at Feleki. No, he would not 
 
THE FLAME 241 
 
 ask his aid until Janos had given his second solo. 
 But would this be too late? 
 
 Camille was watching Mario in the mirror. " We 
 are to sing next, aren t we? " she said with a sudden 
 calmness, turning to him with her sweetest, most en 
 trancing smile. 
 
 He gave her a quick glance and hesitated. " Yes," 
 he said. 
 
 The director entered, and, after having the final 
 understanding with Camille and Cavarodossi con 
 cerning the portion of the act to be given, went back 
 to his place. Presently the orchestra began the in 
 troduction to the last act of " La Tosca." The song 
 of the shepherd boy was rendered by an Italian girl 
 with a mezzo-soprano voice. She stood back in the 
 hall to give the distant tone. Then Cavarodossi 
 went upon the stage, followed by the basso tak 
 ing the role of the jailer. Mario s singing of " E 
 lucevan le stelle " was greeted with enthusiastic ap 
 plause. 
 
 Gwendolyn, under the charm of his passionate 
 voice, forgot Jean Marie and Camille, and leaned 
 forward eagerly drinking in his clear, ringing tones. 
 She felt that not until now had she understood his 
 tenderness and the depth of his soul. His closing 
 line, " Ne er was life so dear to me, no, never! " was 
 sung with the desperate cry of the doomed man who 
 was to be shot within the hour. 
 
 Jean Marie watched her with a sinking heart. 
 Cavarodossi was, indeed, a dangerous rival. The 
 Prince never had seen on Gwendolyn s face the look 
 that was there now. 
 
242 THE FLAME 
 
 Camille made her entrance, and, with a rude shock, 
 Gwendolyn was disillusioned. 
 
 The scene between Tosca and Cavarodossi was ren 
 dered with fervor and intensity, being enhanced and 
 vivified by the dramatic action of the two singers. 
 The act was given until the end of the duet between 
 the tenor and soprano, which Tosca finishes with, 
 " Thine eyes I ll fondly close with countless kisses, 
 and loving words I ll whisper in thine ears." The 
 jailer appeared, saying, "It is the hour!" and the 
 scene closed. 
 
 A tumultuous ovation was given the singers and 
 the orchestra. Camille stood quietly looking over 
 the audience with a radiant smile on her lips and her 
 eyes sparkling with pride. 
 
 Cavarodossi thought of no one but Gwendolyn, 
 and, as their glances met, he reddened, seeing her 
 joy at his success. He never had sung better, and 
 he knew that his voice had made an eloquent appeal, 
 since she could think of his victory with Camille 
 present. The two singers left the stage, but were 
 recalled several times. This ended the first part of 
 the programme. 
 
 Gwendolyn was lavishly complimented on the bril 
 liant success of her musicale, but the strongest in 
 terest was centered in Camille. As long as she 
 could endure it, Gwendolyn remained in her chair; 
 but at last she rose, and without speaking to Jean 
 Marie, who was nervously conversing with two ladies, 
 stepped before him, and went into the next room 
 with some of her other guests. As she passed Rich- 
 
T H E F L A M E 243 
 
 ard, she noticed that he seemed very happy an 
 swering the many questions that were being asked 
 concerning the mysterious diva. She heard him 
 say, laughingly : " Very well. I ll do it ! " and he 
 left the group of men and went out into the hall. 
 
 Mr. Rolfe went back into the dressing-room in 
 search of Camille, and found she was surrounded by 
 the musicians. She rose as Richard entered, and 
 the men drew back. 
 
 " Are you and your friends satisfied? " she asked. 
 
 " More than satisfied. Every one is enchanted. 
 Some gentlemen have sent me to ask if you will kindly 
 sing a solo at the close of the programme, after your 
 duet with De Lucia. They want to leave with your 
 voice alone resounding in their ears. Isn t that a 
 compliment? " 
 
 She smiled. "Yes." A quick light flashed into 
 her eyes. " But I have a suggestion to make. In 
 stead of singing again, I should be pleased to give 
 a dramatic recitation. May I? " 
 
 Richard did not discern the cunning in her smile, 
 but Cavarodossi, who had drawn near, heard and un 
 derstood. Could he subdue her? Could Feleki? 
 
 " That would make a rousing hit ! " Richard said, 
 enthusiastically. " Shall I tell them what s com 
 ing? " 
 
 " Yes, if you wish." 
 
 " They are all questioning me concerning you," 
 he went on. " Every one wants to know your name 
 and all about you." 
 
 A sudden cold gleam shot into her eyes. " Tell 
 
244 THE FLAME 
 
 them I have no name," she said, " and there is noth 
 ing to relate about me, except that circumstances 
 have made me no better than a vampire ! " 
 
 Her tone and her eyes made Richard most uncom 
 fortable, and he looked at her searchingly. " A 
 vampire ! he repeated, thoughtf uly. " And who 
 is your unfortunate victim? " 
 
 " You will know before long, Mr. Rolfe, but surely 
 it is not your own gracious self." 
 
 " You reassure me." He forced a smile, and as 
 he walked away, began to reflect. 
 
 When Richard left the room, Cavarodossi went to 
 her. 
 
 " I heard you telling Mr. Rolfe of the dramatic 
 recitation you wish to give," he said. " Are you 
 still determined to make a horrid scene? It is be 
 neath your womanly dignity. Such an expose would 
 be common melodrama." 
 
 She drew herself up haughtily, then laughed. 
 " You don t like cheap things, do you ? " 
 
 " No, and I don t want to see you sacrifice the 
 respect and admiration that these people feel for 
 you. And haven t you hurt Janos enough al 
 ready? " 
 
 She held out her hands beseechingly. " Don t 
 speak of him. Please ! " she murmured. 
 
 " I must. Don t increase his unhappiness. 
 Think of the years that you were joyous in your 
 new, gilded world, while he was alone with nothing 
 but miserable memory and despair. For the sake of 
 avenging yourself on Bourbon, don t close your heart 
 against your womanly nobility." 
 
THE FLAME 245 
 
 Camille caught her breath, and swinging round, 
 joined the musicians. 
 
 Cavarodossi watched her and listened to her friv 
 olous jesting and sparkling humor, but the two crim 
 son spots on her cheeks and the almost painful bril 
 liancy of her eyes, gave him a new hope. He went 
 to Feleki, who was sitting in the farther corner with 
 his face half turned to the wall, silently and caress 
 ingly fingering his violin. 
 
 " I believe we have conquered," Mario said to him. 
 " I don t think she will speak." 
 
 Janos held out his hand and Cavarodossi sym 
 pathetically grasped the cold, trembling fingers. 
 He sat down beside Feleki and did not leave him 
 again. 
 
 The second part of the programme was to be 
 opened with an orchestral selection. 
 
 Gwendolyn had no intention of going back to Jean 
 Marie. Her doubts and fears concerning him had 
 risen again with redoubled force. She could see 
 plainly his nervous, unnatural manner and she knew 
 that he was afraid of the woman. She did not want 
 to be near him, because to-night he filled her with 
 the same dread as did Camille, but the lady beside 
 her said with a significant, knowing smile: 
 
 " His Highness is looking for you, my dear. 
 Don t let us detain you." 
 
 Gwendolyn glanced down the long rooms and saw 
 that Jean Marie was watching her. 
 
 " He is holding the chair for you, no doubt," the 
 match-making lady added. 
 
 Gwendolyn felt a sudden angry disgust with her- 
 
246 THE FLAME 
 
 self for her weakness. She was no longer a child 
 and she would make him understand it. With new 
 strength in her heart, she rose and went back to 
 him. He forced a bright smile as she sat down, and 
 pressing her fingers, said in an undertone: 
 
 " Don t go away and leave me in darkness, sun of 
 my life. I want you with me always." 
 
 She gravely looked him full in the eyes, but did 
 not answer, and his heart beat fast. 
 
 The director gave the last quick glance over his 
 orchestra, raised his baton, and " The Dance of the 
 Hours " from " La Gioconda " began. 
 
 Gwendolyn hardly heard the sweet music, nor did 
 she, like the others, watch the graceful, magnetic 
 director, whose wealth of Titian hair tossed until 
 it seemed to vibrate to the music. When the selec 
 tion was ended, the listeners responded enthusias 
 tically. 
 
 The next number was three Neapolitan songs by 
 De Lucia, which were heartily appreciated, then 
 Feleki appeared with his precious Guarnerius and 
 thrilled the audience with Wieniawski s " Faust Fan- 
 tasie." His playing was rich with feeling, delicacy, 
 personality, and after he had finished, a second 
 passed before the people burst into fervid applause. 
 For an encore, he played the " Mazurek de Concert " 
 by de Kontski. The demonstration continued long 
 after he had left the stage, but he would not re 
 turn. 
 
 " Feleki is unusually pale to-night, 3 the man said, 
 beside Gwendolyn. "Is he ill?" 
 
 " I don t know," she answered, and wondered why 
 
THE FLAME 247 
 
 Jean Marie moved restlessly when the violinist was 
 mentioned. 
 
 The last number on the programme was the so 
 prano and baritone duet from " Rigoletto," " Tutte le 
 feste at tempio." 
 
 Like a danger signal to Gwendolyn, Camille s scar 
 let gown swept into view and it was a stinging pain 
 to hear the applause that greeted her, yet Gwendolyn 
 joined with the others, conscious that Jean Marie 
 was watching her. 
 
 Camille s exquisite tones rang out with anguish 
 and shame in the telling of " Gilda s " story to her 
 unhappy father, and De Lucia s full, resonant voice 
 was in splendid harmony with hers. It was a most 
 effective duet, and was enthusiastically received. 
 The singers left the stage, but the audience did not 
 move, because the word had gone round that Camille 
 was to give a dramatic recitation. When Jean 
 Marie heard of it, his blood leaped through his veins. 
 Terror robbed him of his strength, and he sat mo 
 tionless. 
 
 Camille went back into the dressing-room with De 
 Lucia. Her eyes were burning, her cheeks were 
 flushed and her breath was coming hard and fast. 
 She walked the full length of the room and back 
 again. As she reached the door leading into the 
 hall, she abruptly halted and set her muscles firm. 
 
 Feleki, with his emotions in a tumult, sprang to 
 her side. 
 
 " Diane ! " he exclaimed. " You mustn t do this ! 
 You mustn t ! " 
 
 She shrank from him and turned her head away. 
 
248 THE FLAME 
 
 " For my sake, Diane ! " he went on hurriedly. 
 " For me ! It is the only favor I have asked since 
 the day you tore the joy from my life." 
 
 A stifled sob broke from her and she leaned against 
 the door, but the next moment she was erect, remem 
 bering that it was Jean Marie who had ruined her 
 life. She would not listen to Janos. She would 
 not let him rob her of this triumphant moment. 
 Jean Marie was in her grasp and she would crush 
 him. Without a glance at Janos, she darted past 
 him. 
 
 He caught her arm. " Diane ! For me ! For 
 me ! " he begged, but she would not heed him. He 
 stood still, uncertain what to do. She was out of 
 sight. He dashed after her, and reached the pas 
 sage just as she was about to mount the steps leading 
 to the stage. 
 
 " Diane ! " he called again, but she did not turn. 
 In his desperation, he looked round him for aid. 
 His violin was on a chair beside him, where he had 
 left it after playing his last solo. He caught up the 
 instrument, and as she reached the stage, his Guar- 
 nerius sang out in a tender, ardent appeal. She 
 abruptly paused. The tones changed and became 
 so divinely sweet and delicate that all who heard, 
 held their breath and listened. The pleading of a 
 poetic, idealistic soul was quivering on the strings 
 in a love call, a tone picture of sentiment. It was a 
 song that Janos had composed for Diane when they 
 were sweethearts in Paris, his musical description 
 of her, composed to the words of an octastich by 
 Pierre Rogiers. 
 
THE FLAME 249 
 
 Camille took a staggering step forward, pressed 
 her hands over her eyes, and swinging round, stood 
 with her back to the audience. 
 
 A low exclamation broke from Jean Marie. He 
 bent forward, clutched the chair in front of him, and 
 sat rigid. 
 
 A hush had fallen over the rooms. Only the violin 
 spoke, and with such caressing softness and love that 
 it seemed like celestial harmony. 
 
 The bitterness and hatred in Camille s heart were 
 crushed by the memory of Janos s great, noble love 
 for her, and while she stood listening to his soul s 
 outpouring, the triumph was forgotten and her 
 proud figure drooped like a wilted flower. As the 
 violin sang on, she lived once more in her pure days 
 of poverty and the sweet touch of Janos s lips and 
 his tender words of love were again a reality. The 
 violin was silent, then it began again the prelude to 
 the song. Slowly faltering, Camille turned to the 
 audience. The glow in her eyes had softened, and 
 her face was lighted with tenderness. She began the 
 song that had been dear to them both, and her voice 
 had lost the proud, victorious ring. 
 
 Who has not looked upon her brow 
 
 Has never dreamed of perfect bliss: 
 But once to see her is to know 
 What beauty, what perfection, is. 
 
 Her charms are of the growth of heaven, 
 She decks the night with hues of day: 
 
 Blest are the eyes to which tis given 
 On her to gaze the soul away ! 
 
250 THE FLAME 
 
 After the song was ended, the violin sang on, then 
 gently stopped. There was no applause; no one 
 moved. Camille turned and held out her arms to 
 Janos, but he disappeared into the hall. With a low, 
 broken sob, she hurried down the steps. When she 
 reached the dressing-room, she found him in tears, 
 with Cavarodossi s protecting arm around his shoul 
 ders. She sprang forward with the wild cry, 
 " Janos ! " and fell at his feet, unconscious. 
 
 Her heart-broken cry was heard by the audience, 
 and there was quick confusion. Gwendolyn, deeply 
 stirred by the music and agitated by the scene, turned 
 to Jean Marie, who stood white and rigid, clutching 
 the back of a chair. Combined with the terror in 
 his face, were jealous rage and hatred, and she 
 shrank back from the distorted features. What con 
 nection had he with this drama? 
 
 Richard s quick presence of mind calmed the peo 
 ple. That was the scene the fascinating singer had 
 prepared, he explained. She wanted to leave them 
 with a vivid memory of her. But Gwendolyn no 
 ticed that her brother was pale. 
 
 The guests were slow in leaving after the refresh 
 ments had been served. All were discussing the in 
 teresting musicale and the sensational finale. Jean 
 Marie was one of the first to go, and he said good 
 night to Gwendolyn while she was surrounded by 
 her friends. She did not extend her hand to him 
 and he could not force himself to look into the grave 
 blue eyes that were intently searching his face. 
 Cavarodossi was not seen after the musicale had 
 ended, nor were Feleki and Camille. 
 
THE FLAME 251 
 
 When the last guest had gone, neither Richard nor 
 Gwendolyn returned to the drawing-rooms, but he 
 followed her upstairs to her room. 
 
 " It was a great success, wasn t it? " he said. 
 
 4 Yes," she murmured, turning from him and un 
 winding the pearls from her throat. " What be 
 came of Signor Cavarodossi? " 
 
 " The singer fainted after her wild cry, and Mario 
 took her home." 
 
 Gwendolyn looked back to her brother. " Then 
 it was real ! " she said, in a low, unsteady tone. 
 
 " Yes, and I would give a good deal to understand 
 it all. I was watching Bourbon and there was a 
 world of meaning in his white face. There is some 
 thing back of this, Gwen, and I have been figuring 
 up on it and taking notice. I don t like that fellow, 
 and I wish something would drive him from the town. 
 I believe that poor, beautiful woman could tell a 
 tragic story, if she would, and so could Feleki. 
 This has been a warning for you, Gwen, and you 
 must study the whole scene from a disinterested, 
 practical point of view. But go to bed now, little 
 one. Good-night ! " 
 
 Tears trembled on her lashes as Richard folded 
 her in his arms and kissed her. When he was gone 
 and the door closed, she threw herself on the bed 
 and wept until morning. What a dismal end to the 
 brilliant entertainment she had taken such pride in 
 arranging ! 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 did not speak, but her head fell for- 
 ward on Cavarodossi s shoulder, as he raised her 
 in his arms and put her into the motor-car, waiting 
 in front of the Rolfe home. Both were silent on 
 their way to the hotel. She weakly leaned against 
 Mario and her hand rested in his. He sat still with 
 his eyes closed. Her wild, heartbroken cry was 
 ringing in his ears and Feleki s misery and collapse 
 were haunting him. His heart was overflowing with 
 sympathy and pity for the estranged lovers, for he 
 believed they never could be happy apart or together, 
 because the memory of Camille s life would be ever 
 present in Feleki s mind. 
 
 When they reached the hotel, Mario assisted her 
 to her room and endeavored to cheer her with gentle 
 words. 
 
 Celeste was surprised and anxious when she saw 
 her radiant mistress return pale and crushed with 
 grief. While she hastened to remove Camille s jew 
 els and gown, Mario waited in the reception-room. 
 He could not play, nor sing, nor do anything but 
 think of the dramatic scene he had just witnessed. 
 He had not seen Jean Marie, but he could well imagine 
 the Prince s alarm, and he had heard a servant say 
 that His Highness of Bourbon was strangely ter 
 rorized. Cavarodossi was impatient to know if 
 
 252 
 
THE FLAME 253 
 
 Gwendolyn was at last aware of Jean Marie s du 
 plicity, but he could not question her. His thoughts 
 were interrupted by Camille s appearance, and he 
 was deeply impressed not only by her beauty, but 
 by the unnatural pallor of her face, and by her eyes, 
 which had become mild and lusterless. She was 
 wearing a loose, flowing robe of soft, white silk, and 
 her beautiful wavy black hair was falling over her 
 shoulders, reaching almost to her knees. 
 
 Mario took a quick step towards her. " Ca- 
 mille ! " he exclaimed with compassion. " Pardon 
 me ! Mademoiselle ! " quickly correcting his famil 
 iarity. 
 
 Tears sprang to her eyes. Cavarodossi treated 
 her with the same respect he would show a gentle 
 woman, but did he understand that her name was 
 the byword of Bohemian Paris? Or did he with his 
 great soul respect her, knowing that she loathed her 
 degradation? She threw herself face downward on 
 the couch and Mario heard a stifled sob. He waited 
 until she was quiet, then he noiselessly took his hat 
 and started towards the door. As he turned the 
 knob, she raised her head. 
 
 " Signer Cavarodossi," she softly said, " I thank 
 you for your kindness to me. I never can forget 
 you." She held out her hand, and going to her, 
 he raised it to his lips in his quiet, courtly manner. 
 
 " I intend that Miss Rolfe shall positively under 
 stand," she added, " but I shan t resort to the com 
 mon melodrama you despise." 
 
 " I have faith in you, Mademoiselle. I know that 
 you will not yield again to an unkindly impulse." 
 
254 THE FLAME 
 
 She sadly smiled her gratitude and Cavarodossi 
 left. For several hours she lay still with her face 
 hidden in the pillows. All of her past life, from her 
 childhood to the present day, was lived again in 
 her feverish, overwrought mind. With her beauty 
 she had risen from extreme poverty to queenly lux 
 ury, but gladly would she wipe away these gilded 
 years to be again the idol of Janos s heart. She 
 hated herself for yielding to her ambition. Why 
 had she not realized what Jean Marie would make 
 of her? She hated the mad abandonment in her na 
 ture, the love of wealth and splendor that had led 
 her into wrongdoing. She wanted to be the humble 
 Diane once more, but she knew that her glorious reign 
 as queen of Bohemia had left its ineradicable taint, 
 its feverish, ambitious unrest. She could never be 
 again the innocent girl who ran away with the Prince 
 de Bourbon, the thoughtless child whom Janos had 
 adored. With a fresh pang of anguish, she heard 
 his violin sing the idealistic song of their happy 
 youth. Recalling the second verse, her cheeks 
 burned with shame: 
 
 " Her charms are of the growth of heaven. 
 
 She decks the night with hues of day : 
 Blest are the eyes to which tis given 
 On her to gaze the soul away ! " 
 
 This had been the true poetical expression of 
 Janos s thoughts of her! What was there in her 
 that had come from heaven? . . . Nothing! 
 It was his fanciful belief. She had proved herself 
 
THE FLAME 255 
 
 to be of the earth earthy without a spark of divine 
 aspiration. She loathed herself and her life, be 
 lieving that she was fit to belong only to a man like 
 Jean Marie. It would be impossible to harm him, 
 because he was far less honorable than she, but she 
 felt that association with Janos would corrupt him, 
 would rob him of the celestial purity of his soul and 
 his art. She had put an insurmountable barrier be 
 tween them. After regaining consciousness in the 
 Rolfe home, she had found Cavarodossi attending 
 her. In an obscure corner, Janos, pale and trem 
 bling, was sitting in a forlorn heap with his hand 
 kerchief pressed to his wet eyes. He had not come 
 to assist her, and she knew that it was not because 
 his heart was cold, but because he shrank from the 
 polluted touch of the degraded woman he had once 
 adored. 
 
 Camille buried her face deeper in the pillows and 
 gave way to passionate, hysterical sobs. 
 
 It was after four o clock in the morning, when her 
 reception-room door opened and Jean Marie stood on 
 the threshold, watching her with glistening blood 
 shot eyes. His white face had a haggard, forbid 
 ding look, and his hair was in wild disorder. He 
 came into the room, closed the door, and drawing off 
 his overcoat, flung it on a chair. He was still wear 
 ing his evening dress, but it was crumpled. Camille 
 did not move until he stood near the couch; then 
 she looked up. He saw that her face was pale and 
 tear-stained and that her eyes were dull. 
 
 She was surprised at his coming and at his di- 
 
256 THE FLAME 
 
 sheveled appearance, but, as she raised herself on 
 her elbow, she said in a tone that was familiarly crisp 
 and taunting: 
 
 " You are an early riser, Jean ! Or haven t you 
 been to bed? " An amused, mocking smile curved 
 her lips, but her eyes did not brighten. 
 
 Jean Marie shrank from her cutting tone. He 
 had believed that he would find her crushed and spir 
 itless, and he had intended to take this moment in 
 which to bend her to his will. Perhaps he even could 
 induce her to go back to Paris, but he saw with bit 
 ter disappointment that her spirit was unbroken. 
 She was searching his face with a quiet gaze, and he 
 could not meet her eyes. 
 
 " What do you want, Jean ? " she slowly asked. 
 
 A torrent of impetuous questions rose to his lips, 
 but he forced them down and simply said : " I have 
 come to congratulate you on your success last night." 
 
 She smiled. " That is kind of you. It was an 
 artistic triumph, wasn t it? " 
 
 " Yes," he snapped, " but the ending was very dif 
 ferent from the one you had planned." 
 
 A flash of pain shot across her face. The next mo 
 ment, she laughed in a purring, sarcastic tone that 
 jarred most uncomfortably on his unsteady nerves. 
 
 " It was dramatic and unexpected, wasn t it? " she 
 said, lightly. 
 
 He was fast losing the slight mastery he had over 
 himself, and with a sudden burst of hateful anger, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " You have tried all this past week to deceive me, 
 
THE FLAME 257 
 
 but I knew that you were going to the Rolfe home to 
 ruin me." 
 
 Camille rested her elbow on the arm of the couch 
 and supported her chin in the palm of her hand. 
 
 " Really, Jean, you are quite clever ! " she said and 
 a gleam was slowly stealing into her eyes. " Are 
 you sorry that you owe your escape to Janos ? " 
 
 The Prince took a quick step towards her. 
 
 " Then you acknowledge your treachery ! " 
 
 " Treachery ! she echoed and laughed, with a 
 toss of her head, adding sarcastically : " I m sorry 
 if your forewarning gave you any uneasiness." 
 
 Her cold, contemptuous tones fired him with a 
 brutal rage. He was her plaything, he the Prince 
 of Bourbon, she a cafe singer, a hireling ! He 
 could have crushed her as she lay there in her beauty, 
 covered with her luxuriant, wavy hair, for he felt that 
 she was reveling in her power over him. She had 
 jewels, luxury for which she could pay, and he was 
 penniless, depending upon her for support ! 
 
 " Where did you get all the jewels you wore last 
 night?" he suddenly burst forth. "You told me 
 when I left Paris that you had sold everything. You 
 lied to me ! " 
 
 A quick sneer rose to her lips and she studied him 
 with angry scorn. She had given him all she had 
 to give, and yet he was not satisfied! No one else 
 had lent him a helping hand when he was in dis 
 grace, and with promises of undying love, he had 
 taken all she had offered. Not until now had she 
 fully known his despicable selfishness, his utter disre 
 gard for chivalry and honor. 
 
258 THE FLAME 
 
 The disgust and scorn in her face stung him like 
 a lash, and a desperate rage was kindled by his 
 wounded vanity. He had borne enough. This lowly 
 creature that he had dragged from the streets of 
 Paris should not dominate him any longer. Only 
 Janos had saved him from public disgrace at the 
 Rolfe home and he had no intention of being assisted 
 the second time by this Hungarian fiddler he de 
 spised. If Camille was out of the way, he could win 
 Gwendolyn and live in respected ease the rest of his 
 life. And it was this woman of lowly birth who was 
 defying him, this upstart commoner placing her 
 self in the path of a Prince ! His mind was still over 
 wrought and unbalanced by the fear he had experi 
 enced at the musicale, and as he glanced again at 
 Camille, and saw the contemptuous disgust in her face, 
 rage overpowered his reason. The end had come ! 
 As if his throat were parched, he said hoarsely: 
 
 " I m thirsty. Give me a drink." 
 
 She studied him a moment with puzzled surprise, 
 then slowly rose, and going to the closet, brought out 
 a bottle of wine and a glass, and put them on the 
 table. She watched him, wonderingly, while he drew 
 the cork. His hands were trembling and blood was 
 mounting to his face. He filled the glass, but his 
 hand was so unsteady that he spilt some wine. Sud 
 denly, he said with an effort: 
 
 " Take some, Camille. I don t want to drink 
 alone." 
 
 With a puzzled frown, she turned away and went 
 back to the closet. He quickly took from his pocket 
 the little vial he always carried and emptied the con- 
 
THE FLAME 259 
 
 tents into his wine. As she returned to the table, 
 with another glass, he handed his to her, but did not 
 raise his eyes. She noticed that his breath was com 
 ing hard and fast. With her mystified glance rest 
 ing on him, she raised the glass to her lips. His eyes 
 met hers with a terrible, expectant glare, and she saw 
 her doom in his face. With a low cry, she blanched 
 and staggered back, but the next instant she was 
 erect, fired with a desperate fury. He had placed 
 death in her hands ! This scoundrel who had ruined 
 her life, who had enticed her from the man she loved 
 and made her a woman to despise, was about to take 
 her life, because she was in his way ! She had given 
 him all, she had sold herself to raise money for his 
 extravagant demands, and now,, that she was no 
 longer necessary to him, because he could marry an 
 heiress, he would kill her to gain his liberty ! She 
 glanced from him to the glass she held, and back 
 again to him. She would make him drink this wine, 
 but was it worth the punishment she would re 
 ceive for the crime? Her lips curled as she saw him 
 standing before her a trembling coward. Her proud 
 womanhood was aroused and she studied him with 
 superb disdain. He was nothing but a treacherous 
 weakling and his life belonged to her. She would 
 let him live and suffer with humiliation for every 
 wrong he ever had done. She would take him back 
 to Paris and hold him up for public ridicule. He 
 was in her power now, as he never had been before. 
 Tossing back her head, she laughed with sarcastic 
 disgust, and he shrank from her cutting scorn. 
 
 She went to the window, threw out the wine and 
 
260 T H E F L A M E 
 
 the glass and turning back, they eyed each other with 
 a desperate challenge. Then Jean Marie s eyes fell. 
 
 As she closed the window, she said in a low but 
 unsteady tone: 
 
 " I have saved your life, Jean. Now you had bet 
 ter go." 
 
 He drew a sharp breath, and blood rose to his face 
 and fled again. Without giving him another glance, 
 she proudly swept past him, and going into her bed 
 room, closed the door and locked it. For a space, he 
 stood staring wildly at the door, then horror and 
 fear swept over him, and he staggered back and fell 
 on the couch. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 rilHE morning after the musicale, Gwendolyn went 
 A down to breakfast, pale and silent. Her eyes 
 were dull and bore traces of tears and of the sleep 
 less night she had passed. As she entered, Richard 
 glanced up from his morning paper, and a look of 
 pain flashed across his face when he saw her suffer 
 ing. She went to kiss him as usual, and he impul 
 sively drew her down in a close embrace. Her lips 
 trembled, but she repressed the tears. He knew that 
 her faith in Jean Marie had been shaken, and he 
 happily believed that the Frenchman s love would be 
 rejected. 
 
 During breakfast, she made a dismal effort to be 
 sociable, and when Richard went away, he was 
 grieved over her distress, yet hopeful, for he thought 
 that she would now turn to Cavarodossi and more 
 deeply appreciate his worth. 
 
 Left alone, Gwendolyn returned to her room and 
 forlornly sank into a chair near the window. She 
 knew that Jean Marie had not been truthful in the ex 
 planation of his acquaintance with the beautiful 
 singer. There was something tragic and pitiful back 
 of that stirring scene the night before and, as Rich 
 ard had said, it had been a warning to her. She had 
 done as he had advised, studied the whole scene 
 from a disinterested, practical point of view, and no 
 
262 THE FLAME 
 
 matter how lenient she might be towards Jean Marie, 
 the appearances were all against him. The terror, 
 jealousy, hatred, that had been depicted on his white 
 face had been unmistakable, and Gwendolyn had 
 vaguely understood the significant meaning in Ca- 
 mille s eyes as she watched the Prince while singing 
 the aria from " Samson and Delilah." Sarcastic tri 
 umph and defiance were in the singer s voice, and 
 Gwendolyn had suspected from her manner and from 
 the words of the aria that the woman had planned to 
 ruin Jean Marie that night. She must have some 
 thing more serious to tell than the simple story that 
 the Prince had related to Gwendolyn. Bitter resent 
 ment against Jean Marie rose in her heart and she 
 acknowledged to herself that she never had had abso 
 lute faith in the attractive nobleman. She realized 
 that she had been fascinated by his poetical expres 
 sions, his romancing and she blushed to own it 
 by his exalted title. The life that she had pictured 
 with him in France had been idealistic with its allur 
 ing castles still permeated with medieval romance and 
 history, and Jean Marie with his aristocratic bearing 
 was like a lover in fiction. She was ashamed and 
 angry that she had been such a foolish child, chasing 
 a phantom. How Jean Marie must have laughed at 
 her simplicity ! Womanly indignation rose in her 
 heart as it never had before. She was not a child, 
 and she would let the Prince know that she under 
 stood his falseness. She had intended not to receive 
 him when he would call, but now her righteous anger 
 made her anxious to prove to him that she was no 
 longer weak and beguiled by his suave deception. 
 
T H E F L A M E 263 
 
 She shuddered at the thought of how he would have 
 trapped her had not the singer been miraculously en 
 gaged by Richard. Why had she not heeded her 
 brother when he warned her against Jean Marie? 
 Why had she not understood from Cavarodossi s 
 manner after her meeting with the Prince and the 
 singer at Pastori s Villa, that something was wrong? 
 Cavarodossi must believe her the simple, ignorant 
 child that Jean Marie knew her to be ! Her cheeks 
 burned with shame. Cavarodossi s opinion was of 
 consequence to her, and she yearned for his sym 
 pathy and sincerity. She never had doubted him 
 nor had Richard, and as her brother had often told 
 her, Mario was every inch a man. But Jean Marie ! 
 . . . She covered her face with her trembling 
 hands. She had been courting unhappiness, playing 
 with inevitable despair! Had Cavarodossi appeared 
 at that moment, she would have told him in her hon 
 est, simple way that she never had appreciated him 
 till now that she knew Jean Marie to be unworthy. 
 Yet she felt a bitter disappointment that the Prince 
 was unworthy. It was hard to believe that the life 
 she had pictured had been nothing but a fantastic 
 dream. She dared not think of what her future 
 would have been. 
 
 In the afternoon, while she was attending to her 
 plants, she heard someone approaching, and glancing 
 back, saw Jean Marie about to step from the music- 
 room into the conservatory. He abruptly paused 
 as her eyes met his, and Gwendolyn, with a low ex 
 clamation, drew back. His face was white and hag 
 gard and his eyes were bloodshot, as they had been 
 
264 THE FLAME 
 
 when he went to Camille, but in his face was another 
 look, one far more terrible, that of a desperate, mad 
 dened man who had been caught in his first crime. 
 He turned away from Gwendolyn s frightened gaze 
 and went back into the music-room. She hesitated, 
 then followed him. He was standing before the fire 
 place, looking down unseeingly at the drowsing 
 flames, and some time passed before he turned to her, 
 where she stood in the middle of the room, watching 
 him with concern. 
 
 " Gwendolyn," he said slowly, and his voice was no 
 longer suave and debonair, " I know you doubt me, 
 I know you feel I have lied in regard to that woman, 
 Camille Dubray." 
 
 Gwendolyn s anger was kindled at the mention of 
 the singer, and drawing herself up, she coldly eyed 
 the Prince. 
 
 " Yes, I do believe that your self-reproving con 
 fession was insincere." 
 
 The tinge of sarcasm in her tone deeply cut Jean 
 Marie, for it reminded him of Camille s contemptu 
 ous scorn, and the memory of her unbalanced him. 
 When he spoke again, his voice trembled with despair 
 and pleading. 
 
 " I don t know how I can repair my wrong," he 
 said. " My only hope is that I have stifled your 
 faith in me, not killed it." 
 
 She forced a sad little smile and shook her head. 
 
 " Let us not discuss that woman and your past," 
 she quietly said. " I fear there is no good in either, 
 and I prefer not to listen." 
 
 Jean Marie took a quick step forward. 
 
THE FLAME 265 
 
 " You must listen ! " he exclaimed. " You must ! 
 I can t give you up in this way. I know there is 
 nothing in my past that deserves such a sweet, noble 
 woman as yourself, but I promise you, I swear to you, 
 that my future shall be pure and honorable, that I 
 will devote my life to the noble purposes you desire. 
 It is for you to lead; I will follow." 
 
 The anguish, the almost tearful pleading in his 
 voice stirred her pity, but she said, firmly: 
 
 " It is of no use for you to speak. We are not 
 suited to each other, and it is best for us to part. 
 The beliefs, the education of a foreign nobleman are 
 too unlike mine for us ever to live in harmony. I 
 know my brother never would agree to our marriage, 
 and I would not marry without his consent." 
 
 " I am willing to wait," he begged. " I will be 
 come an American citizen. I will live as you live. I 
 put myself in your hands, Gwendolyn. Mold me as 
 you wish ! " Jean Marie meant what lie said, not be 
 cause he repented the vileness of his past, but 
 because he believed that Camille had permanently 
 deserted him, and with her had gone his means of sup 
 port. He had remained in her apartments until day 
 break, but she had not left her room. Her last words 
 were incessantly ringing in his ears, " I have saved 
 your life, Jean. Now you had better go ! " Go ! 
 She had turned him from her, leaving him penniless ! 
 But if he could win Gwendolyn, was this not better 
 than suffering the humiliation to which Camille sub 
 jected him, by making him ask for every dollar he 
 required? He thought he would be willing to be 
 come an American citizen, he believed he could sub- 
 
266 THE FLAME 
 
 mit to anything, so long as Gwendolyn would marry 
 him and give him the handling of her great fortune. 
 He now shrank from the thought of returning to 
 Paris, even as a wealthy man, because he never again 
 could live comfortably in the same city with Camille, 
 for, wealthy or poor, he would be within her grasp, 
 especially since he had made the mad attempt to take 
 her life. 
 
 After a pause, Gwendolyn slowly shook her head. 
 " If you were a child," she said, " perhaps I could 
 mold you according to my ideas, but I fear your life 
 has been too careless for me to change you now." 
 
 " No ! Try ! " he begged. " I cannot avoid being 
 uplifted by your nobleness, for you are the purest of 
 women. Give me an opportunity to prove my sin 
 cerity." 
 
 " No," she said, quietly. " I can t." 
 
 " Gwendolyn ! " he cried, springing forward. 
 " Don t desert me ! Don t ! " He held out his arms 
 to her, but she turned away. Maddened by the ab 
 ject poverty before him, unbalanced by his desperate 
 attack on Camille s life, and overwrought by the 
 strain his nerves had suffered, he broke down, and 
 staggering forward, fell face downward on the divan, 
 and burst into tears. 
 
 Gwendolyn caught her breath, and, shrinking back, 
 stood trembling as she watched him. She never be 
 fore had seen a man sob, and it was a terrible sight 
 to her, the breaking of a strong, masculine heart. A 
 flood of pity swept over her. He was like a forsaken 
 child, and the mother instinct, the mother love awak 
 ened and demanded her protection of this suffering, 
 
THE FLAME 267 
 
 helpless man. No matter how bad he may have been 
 in the past, he repented now and her conscience chided 
 her that she had refused a helping hand. It would 
 be a nobler act to redeem a sinner than to aid one 
 who never had gone astray. Jesus did not turn from 
 the Magdalen, why should she turn from Jean Marie? 
 Remorseful tears rose to her eyes. She wished Rich 
 ard could see Jean. He also would forgive and aid 
 him. She must listen to the story Jean had to tell, 
 no matter how bad it might be, for how could she 
 help him if she did not know the wrongs he had done? 
 She must let him unburden his heart, so that she could 
 point out the way of correction and salvation. Going 
 to him, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder, and 
 softly said: 
 
 " Don t despair, Jean. I am willing to help you. 
 Be brave." 
 
 With a low, hopeful exclamation, he caught her 
 hand and kissed it ; then, springing up, walked to the 
 farther end of the room and wiped his face and eyes 
 with his handkerchief. 
 
 " Forgive my weakness," he said brokenly, and 
 stood with his back to her until she went, and resting 
 her hand on his arm, said encouragingly : 
 
 " I want to hear about your life and that 
 that woman. It was unkind of me to be relent 
 less." 
 
 He clutched her fingers and pressed them eagerly 
 to his lips. He had won her again ! It was worth 
 the agony and despair that he had suffered. She 
 saw the joy in his eyes and understood it to be a silent 
 declaration of love. 
 
268 THE FLAME 
 
 " Come and sit down," she said, " and open your 
 heart to me." Taking his hand, she gently drew 
 him to a chair and sat on a cushion at his feet, as 
 she often did with Richard. 
 
 He let some time slip by before he spoke, for he 
 was not sure of himself and could not altogether con 
 trol his thoughts. His sudden collapse had dazed 
 him, and the story he had planned to tell concerning 
 Camille was not clear in his mind. 
 
 Gwendolyn, her head bowed, waited in silence for 
 him to speak. 
 
 " I did a wretched thing to that woman," he said, 
 at last, slowly, falteringly, because he knew he must 
 begin, " but it was, I think, hardest of all for Feleki." 
 
 Gwendolyn quickly glanced up, but Jean Marie 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 " This woman, Camille Dubray," he carefully went 
 on, " was a cafe singer, a woman but little known. 
 She was beautiful, dashing, adventurous, as you can 
 see, and she longed to become famous in the gay life 
 of Paris. Feleki had found her, and had fallen des 
 perately in love with her. She became his sweetheart. 
 . . . She was an immoral woman. He was begin 
 ning his career as a concert violinist, and could not 
 command the money he does at present, but he could 
 give her more than the men with whom she had previ 
 ously associated. For a while she was contented, 
 but at last ambition mastered her and she craved 
 more than he could give, yet she loved him in her 
 inmost heart. It was her love of flattery and jewels 
 that conquered her, and, naturally enough, I sup 
 pose, since she had been born and reared in the slums 
 
THE FLAME 269 
 
 of Paris. Feleki, with his idealistic soul, loved her 
 blindly, perhaps, " and Jean Marie faltered, " she 
 may have reminded him of the Diane Godin whose 
 story he told here one night. . . . There is 
 something wild and weird in Feleki s nature, and I do 
 not condemn his undying passion for Camille. I 
 only can pity him. Through his influence, she ob 
 tained a position in a popular cafe, and it was here 
 that I first met her and was attracted by her brilliant 
 charms. In company with my young friends, I used 
 to go every night to hear her sing, and was flattered 
 because she never failed to sing a love song with her 
 languishing eyes looking into mine. She seemed to 
 favor me above the others, and well, I was reck 
 less, a hot-headed youth. I made her acquaintance, 
 and when she learned that I was a nobleman, she 
 fairly threw herself into my arms, knowing that with 
 my influence I could make her the petted idol of Paris. 
 I do not blame her for what she did, because she 
 never had been taught to know what purity means. 
 Vain, proud youth that I was, I took her from Feleki, 
 although I knew that the loss of her would crush his 
 heart. It was a dastardly thing to do. ... I 
 secured her positions in the leading cafes and she be 
 came the undisputed queen she had longed to be. At 
 last I grew tired of her, because there was so much in 
 her nature that was vulgar, and also I learned that 
 she was unfaithful to me. When I deserted her, she 
 longed again for Feleki, but, although she made him 
 every promise of eternal fidelity, he would not take 
 her back, and he hated me for what I had done, and 
 I believe he hates me still. Her love for him grew 
 
270 THE FLAME 
 
 with his unrelenting decision not to accept her again. 
 She turned against me and denounced me everywhere, 
 but when I met her here, she was as friendly as 
 though nothing ever had happened. Last night, at 
 the musicale, I had a presentiment that she intended 
 to denounce me before your friends to repay me for 
 having taken her from Janos and, at the same time, 
 to give him absolute proof that she no longer cares 
 for me." 
 
 " What brought her to San Francisco? " Gwendo 
 lyn interrupted in an unsteady tone. She felt that 
 she must help Jean Marie, but his confession was al 
 most more than she could bear. This woman had be 
 longed to him ! She shuddered. 
 
 A sudden inspiration came to Jean Marie. " Ca- 
 mille heard that the violinist was here, and she de 
 termined to make another effort to win him," he said, 
 " but Feleki is firm. You can well imagine my as 
 tonishment when I found her here in company with 
 Monsieur Dubois, who knows nothing concerning her. 
 As I told you before, I was ashamed to let Dubois 
 know of my former acquaintance with the woman, 
 and also I did not want him to question me concern 
 ing her, because I imagined and hoped that she was 
 leading a better life. It was a strange fate that 
 brought Feleki, the woman and myself together 
 again." 
 
 Jean Marie sat for a time looking thoughtfully be 
 fore him. It had indeed been a strange fate, but the 
 past would be dead and buried now that Camille had 
 deserted him and he had won Gwendolyn once more. 
 He looked down at her soft blonde curls and smiled. 
 
THE FLAME 271 
 
 How different she was from the woman he would 
 choose for his wife, yet how necessary she was to 
 him! 
 
 "What was the last song she sang? " Gwendolyn 
 presently asked. " It was wonderful, a divine har 
 mony." 
 
 " Feleki composed it for her when they were sweet 
 hearts." Jean Marie quickly changed the subject. 
 " My taking that woman from Feleki is not the only 
 wrong I have done," he added, despairingly. " I 
 have gambled and fought duels and done every foolish 
 thing imaginable, thinking that I was having pleasure 
 and seeing the best in life, but now I want you to 
 guide me, Gwendolyn. I am willing to do anything 
 you may ask, for my repentance is sincere. I feel 
 happier now that I have unburdened my heart and 
 kept nothing from you. Can you forgive me? Will 
 you help me? " 
 
 Her sympathy and good resolutions did not for 
 sake her. She believed that Jean Marie was sincere, 
 but she knew that it would take time before she could 
 reconcile herself to giving her heart and hand to a 
 man who had led his intemperate life and who had 
 been entangled with a woman like Camille Dubray. 
 Perhaps he was no worse than many men, but she 
 wanted one who was purer, one who was like Cav- 
 arodossi. 
 
 Jean Marie saw the struggle in her eyes and under 
 stood. He took her hand and pressed it reverently 
 to his lips. " You won t forsake me, will you ? " he 
 asked in a gentle, pleading tone. 
 
 She slowly shook her head. Looking into his eyes, 
 
272 THE FLAME 
 
 she saw the hope that was lighting them and she 
 innocently believed that the unburdening of his heart 
 was the first step towards the rebuilding of a nobler 
 life. 
 
 Jean Marie did not urge a tender answer, nor did 
 he manifest a fervent love; he only raised her hand 
 and again pressed it to his lips. He felt a sudden 
 reaction after his desperate struggle and outburst, 
 and he knew that he must leave and master himself 
 alone. He was confident that he had conquered 
 Gwendolyn through her sympathies, and he could 
 go home and rest. He did not take her in his arms 
 when he left, but tenderly kissed her hair. She held 
 out her hand and for a moment they stood silently 
 grasping each other s fingers ; then Jean Marie turned 
 away, as if he were again overcome by his emotions. 
 
 Gwendolyn went out into the hall and waited until 
 the door closed behind him; then, slowly, thought 
 fully, she returned to the music-room. Her heart 
 was full of pity for him and she censured his parents 
 for not having taught him how to live a better, nobler 
 life. She felt a responsibility for his future. She 
 would tell Richard of his heartrending anguish, and 
 she believed that her brother would sympathize with 
 him. 
 
 When Richard came home to dinner, Gwendolyn 
 was still in the music-room, and hearing the door 
 close, was about to call, " Dick ! " when an imperious 
 voice rose from her heart and cried, " Silence ! " She 
 caught a quick, nervous breath, and shrinking back 
 in her chair, tremblingly obeyed the warning. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE attempt that Jean Marie had made to take 
 Camille s life had deeply stirred her, not be 
 cause she feared him, but because she now under 
 stood the extent of his treachery and degradation. 
 She always had known that he was unprincipled and 
 cared only for his own comfort and pleasure, but it 
 startled her to realize that he would take her life to 
 fulfill his desires. She had expected neither noble 
 ness por generosity from him, but he had fallen far 
 beneath even that estimation, for she had believed that 
 the culture and refinement of his birth would prevent 
 him from sinking to the depths of a common crim 
 inal. Had he been born of poor, ignorant parents, 
 as she had been, and had he associated with the 
 thoughtless, uncultured people with whom she had 
 been thrown, she could better have understood his ab 
 solute corruption. Although her heart burned with 
 hatred, she would not abandon him, so strong was 
 her determination to make him pay the penalty of 
 his wrongs, and she did not think that he believed 
 himself to be abandoned. 
 
 She passed the day after the musicale in languid 
 despair. The memory of Janos s love song clung to 
 her more persistently than did Jean Marie s attack 
 on her life. The hopelessness of her love for Janos 
 
 and the understanding that she herself had put the 
 
 273 
 
274 THE FLAME 
 
 barrier between them, preyed unceasingly on her 
 mind. She had only one fragile comfort, that he 
 still adored Diane Godin. As Camille Dubray she 
 had become another woman, and he lived with his dead 
 ideal. Cavarodossi had sympathetically told her that 
 whenever Janos played, it was to his Diane. But in 
 her inmost heart, she knew that even in her pure 
 days she could not have been like the ideal he had 
 cherished, for had she been so chaste and noble, she 
 never could have fallen under the influence of a man 
 like Jean Marie. Janos had often laughed at her 
 wild, capricious ways and had tried to tame her, as 
 he said, but he saw in her a sweet, idealistic soul, 
 which Camille now believed was only his poetic dream. 
 
 Without lenity she studied her life as it had been 
 and was merciless in her self-condemnation, yet she 
 realized that there was some virtue in her character, 
 even as Camille Dubray. If only Janos could see this 
 and forgive the pollution of the flesh and respect her ! 
 If only he could know the good that was still existent 
 and feel that she was soiled with corruption, but not 
 corrupt! Yet how could she expect him to believe 
 this, when she had run away with a disreputable man 
 and left not only him, her betrothed, but her mother, 
 who was depending upon her for support? 
 
 Camille could not understand how she ever could 
 have yielded to Jean Marie s base persuasion and been 
 dazzled by his promises of wealth. It was true that 
 he had not told her what her life would be as the 
 favorite of the dissolute cafe habitues. She had not 
 understood the price he would make her pay for self- 
 indulgence. He had deceived and beguiled her, but 
 
T H E F L A M E 275 
 
 she should not have succumbed to his fatal tempta 
 tion. She had paid and was paying with despera 
 tion and misery for every jewel she had possessed 
 and for all the luxury with which she was surrounded. 
 She wondered why it was that such a serpent as Jean 
 Marie had come into her life and robbed her of what 
 might have been a happy, brilliant future, but 
 why had she not eluded the serpent s fangs ? 
 
 Camille dwelt upon her life and its mad follies un 
 til she became almost hysterical in her despair, but in 
 the night she fell asleep, exhausted, and awoke in 
 the morning filled with the determination to expose 
 Jean Marie and force him back to Paris with her. 
 She would do as Janos and Cavarodossi had asked 
 her, go privately to Gwendolyn and tell her story. 
 It was her duty as well as a personal gratification. 
 
 After luncheon, she had Celeste dress her in a black 
 princess gown. Her broad-brimmed hat was covered 
 with a long black veil, and the ends were tied in a 
 large, soft bow under her chin. It was a simple, 
 modest attire, but as she glanced in the mirror before 
 leaving her room, she realized that her brilliant beauty 
 was not dimmed. 
 
 Reaching the Rolfe home, she stepped lightly from 
 the motor-car and ascended the broad marble steps. 
 It was a pleasant, balmy day, and although her mind 
 was occupied with the ordeal before her, her beauty- 
 loving eyes were attracted by the deep slope of rich 
 green lawn that stretched far back on either side of 
 the stone house. There was something refreshing 
 and sweet in the appearance of the place, and she 
 hesitated before reaching the top step, knowing that 
 
276 THE FLAME 
 
 when she would leave, a gloom would have fallen over 
 the home. 
 
 She rang the bell, and presently the butler opened 
 the door and astonishment flashed into his face when 
 he saw her. 
 
 " Is Miss Rolfe at home? " she asked, not present 
 ing a card. " Tell her, please, that a lady wishes to 
 see her. You need not mention whom." 
 
 A silent moment passed before the servant asked 
 her to enter and wait until he would speak to Miss 
 Rolfe, who, he believed, was in the garden. 
 
 Camille nodded and took a seat near the door. 
 Left alone, her eyes strayed over the handsome hall, 
 with its massive oak furniture, rich golden-brown 
 hangings, and costly statuary. She drew a deep 
 breath of the pure air, untainted by artificiality. It 
 was quiet and restful to her tired nerves. On the 
 square landing of the broad stairway was a large art- 
 glass window of Murillo s La Vergine col Figlio, and 
 she was studying the exquisite beauty of it, when a 
 vision in white came slowly down the stairs. Camille 
 rose and advanced some steps as Gwendolyn reached 
 the landing. Pausing abruptly, the girl clutched the 
 balustrade and stood looking down with startled sur 
 prise. The sun shining through the window daintily 
 colored her gown with a rainbow of delicate shades, 
 and Camille drew back before the fair girl, who 
 looked like an angel of purity. Could she unfold to 
 this sweet creature the immorality of her life? She 
 drew her black veil half across her face and shrank 
 back into the soft shadow. 
 
THE FLAME 277 
 
 " What do you wish? " Gwendolyn demanded 
 with quiet dignity, but a tremulous note was in her 
 voice. 
 
 " I have something to tell you." Camille stepped 
 forward again. 
 
 Gwendolyn shook her head. " I am sorry for 
 you," she said, " but I am sure you can tell me noth 
 ing that I wish to hear." 
 
 " Perhaps not, Mademoiselle, but it is something 
 you must hear." 
 
 Gwendolyn elevated her brows. " Must? " she 
 echoed, and smiled wearily. 
 
 " Don t force me, Mademoiselle. It means your 
 salvation if you listen, but if you won t, I must seek 
 your brother." 
 
 Gwendolyn s fingers tightened over the balustrade 
 and her face went white. 
 
 The butler returned to the hall and glanced with 
 surprise from Camille to Gwendolyn, who said with 
 an effort: 
 
 " Show the lady into the music-room, James." 
 
 When the servant returned, Gwendolyn was wait 
 ing at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " When His Highness of Bourbon calls," she said, 
 quietly, " tell him that I am not at liberty, but will 
 see him to-morrow afternoon at four." She passed 
 on to the music-room and paused on the threshold 
 before entering and closing the door. Jealousy again 
 stirred in her heart, and she hesitated to meet this 
 singer whom Jean Marie had called an immoral 
 woman. Going towards the windows, Gwendolyn se- 
 
278 THE FLAME 
 
 lected a chair that brought her back to the light, and 
 motioning with dignity for Camille to sit opposite 
 her, waited with dread for the singer to speak. 
 
 " It is a most unpleasant story that I must tell, 
 Mademoiselle, and I know that it will be distressing 
 for you to listen, but I could not let you walk blindly 
 to destruction, even though it were of no personal 
 satisfaction to me to disclose this base deception." 
 
 " I do not understand you," Gwendolyn murmured, 
 avoiding Camille s gaze and involuntarily shrinking 
 back. 
 
 " I wish to speak of the frince de Bourbon, Made 
 moiselle." 
 
 The girl did not answer, but trembled before the 
 hatred and anger flickering in Camille s eyes at the 
 mention of his name. The pity and faith that Jean 
 Marie had awakened in Gwendolyn the day before 
 had been shaken by the imperious voice that had kept 
 her from confiding in her brother. Jean Marie had 
 told two stories, but was either truthful? His col 
 lapse had been sincere, but what had really caused it? 
 
 " I must begin, Mademoiselle, by telling you some 
 thing of my life, so that you can understand that I 
 was once what you are now, a good, pure girl." Ca 
 mille s voice quivered, and she sat erect, clutching 
 the arms of her chair. " I was born in poverty, but, 
 unfortunately, I longed for wealth. At an age when 
 a child should be in school, I was forced to work and 
 support myself, my mother and sister. Perhaps I 
 was wild and adventurous, yes, I know I was, and, 
 unluckily, men easily fell slaves to my vivacious way, 
 but one day, when I was eighteen, an artist came into 
 
THE FLAME 279 
 
 my life and I struggled to suppress the madness in 
 my nature, because I loved him and he loved me." 
 
 Camille s voice trembled and she paused. 
 
 Gwendolyn, with a throbbing heart, sat still. 
 There was something stirring and magnetic in Ca- 
 mille s rich tones, that made Gwendolyn, almost un 
 willingly, believe that the woman was sincere. 
 
 " The man was a true artist, this violinist, with an 
 idealistic nature, and I studied and tried to refine my 
 self that I might become more like him," Camille went 
 on, brokenly. " He saw my faults, yet loved me for 
 them, because he did not believe that they would lead 
 me to ruin. Some months after we had been engaged, 
 a man carne to lodge in the house where I was living. 
 He was a gentleman in outward appearance and 
 seemed to be of aristocratic birth, but he dressed 
 poorly like the students and had but little money. 
 He was attracted by my youthful charms and I was 
 fascinated by his polished, exquisite manner. When 
 he tried to win me, he told me of the wealthy world 
 from which he had come and of the high position that 
 he had occupied. He praised my voice and said that 
 with his influence he could make me the most popular 
 cafe singer in France. He told me of the money I 
 could earn, of the power I should wield over the pub 
 lic and I should be courted by titled and wealthy men. 
 He had discovered my weakness; he knew that I 
 longed for luxury. I listened to him, fascinated by 
 his poetical love for me, and it flattered my vanity 
 that I, a poor, uncultured girl, could win the heart of 
 this exalted man. He cast an enchanting spell over 
 me, and I was weak enough to yield. After a year, 
 
280 T H E F L A M E 
 
 he decided to go back to his old life and begged me 
 to go with him and share its wealth and its glory! 
 . . . Glory ! " Camille closed her eyes and a 
 shudder ran through her. 
 
 Gwendolyn had not moved, but fear was stealing 
 into her face and she sat rigid, imperceptibly breath 
 ing through her parted lips. 
 
 Presently Camille went on: 
 
 " I told my fiance that I could not marry him, for 
 I did not love him as I at first had believed and that 
 I was going away with this man. He was crushed 
 instead of being enraged, and let me go, instead of 
 killing me." A dramatic quiver shot into Camille s 
 voice and Gwendolyn moved uneasily. " I went away 
 with this fascinating, disreputable wretch and left my 
 mother, my sister and the only man I ever have truly 
 loved. I was weak, but he had hypnotized me." 
 
 Gwendolyn, leaning forward, her startled eyes fas 
 tened on the singer s face, asked unsteadily : 
 
 66 Are you Diane Godin ? " 
 
 Camille sprang up. " How did you know ? " she 
 gasped. 
 
 " Monsieur Feleki told your sad story here one 
 night, and now I understand the Prince of Bourbon s 
 agitation." Overcome with misery and trembling, 
 with excitement and fear, Gwendolyn rose, and going 
 to the window, rested her arm against the casing and 
 hid her face in the soft sleeve falling over her elbow. 
 She remembered agreeing with Feleki that the man 
 who had come into Diane s life had been like a viper 
 concealed in the grass. She struggled to suppress 
 the agonizing tears that were forcing themselves to 
 
THE FLAME 281 
 
 her eyes. The shock of discovering Jean Marie s 
 contemptible character, his falseness, his lies, the hor 
 ror of learning how close she had slipped to the edge 
 of a precipice, stunned her, and she silently clutched 
 the plush draperies at the window to keep herself from 
 falling. 
 
 Camille knew that she had defeated Jean Marie, 
 but she was not satisfied ; she wanted the girl to know 
 all ; she was determined to tear every shred of decency 
 from the man who had ruined her life. 
 
 " Janos could tell no more than what I have just 
 related, but that, Mademoiselle, is only the begin 
 ning, and reveals but little concerning the man who, 
 I believe, has offered you his heart." 
 
 Gwendolyn shrank closer to the window, but did 
 not speak. 
 
 " He stayed with me for two years after I left the 
 Latin Quarter with him," Camille continued, resting 
 on the back of a chair, her eyes riveted on Gwendo 
 lyn s blonde curls, " but one day a vulgar dance-hall 
 woman caught his fancy, and, without warning, he 
 left me, a girl of twenty, to become the toy of dishon 
 orable men. But what had he done to me before he 
 left me alone 1 " Camille s voice broke and she cov 
 ered her face with her veil. " He was in desperate 
 need of money to keep on with his fast life, and 
 . . . he induced me to sell myself, that money 
 might be raised to meet his extravagant demands ! 
 . . . O God, why did Janos not kill me ! " A 
 sudden weakness stole over Camille and she sank on 
 her knees, still clinging to the chair. When she went 
 on, her voice was low and muffled. " After several 
 
282 THE FLAME 
 
 months, Bourbon came back to me, because I had then 
 become the most popular cafe singer in Paris, and 
 money was pouring in, but he left me again for an 
 other woman. Four times in the seven years since 
 I went away with him, he has deserted me, but he al 
 ways returned and I accepted him, because he be 
 longed to me as no other man did. A year ago, he 
 came back in desperate poverty. His uncle had re 
 fused to pay any more of his debts, and to raise 
 money, he had sold cherished family relics. All that 
 he had inherited went to the creditors who were hound 
 ing him. He had become entangled in some dishon 
 orable business, and this, combined with his enormous 
 debts, forced him to become an exile from Paris. He 
 wanted to come to America until the Parisians should 
 forget, and I sold everything of value that I pos 
 sessed to raise enough money for him. He pretended 
 to repent his life and promised to find work over here 
 and then send for me and marry me, so we could begin 
 a new, clean life. But he lied to me. He had no in 
 tention of working. It was an heiress he was seeking, 
 who, with her money, could reestablish his social po 
 sition in France." 
 
 Camille paused, and raising her head, fastened her 
 penetrating eyes on the girl, but Gwendolyn did not 
 move. She was still clinging to the drapery, quietly 
 sobbing. What a dupe Jean Marie had made of 
 her ! She was overcome with shame, with bitter hu 
 miliation that she had not understood him and known 
 that he was seeking her fortune only. The last hope 
 of his sincerity had been swept away with the knowl 
 edge that this woman was Diane Godin, and she 
 
THE FLAME 283 
 
 shrank from the remembrance of the caresses this dis 
 solute hypocrite had given her. She was terrorized 
 at the peril into which she had almost plunged her 
 self, and when Camille spoke again, Gwendolyn visi 
 bly trembled. 
 
 " What had driven him to the Latin Quarter, in 
 cognito, was dishonest gambling with cards. He is a 
 social outcast, and the castle of which he speaks is 
 owned by his uncle, who has promised him a home in 
 it, if he will marry a rich woman and lead a decent 
 life. He is a past-master at deception, this exalted 
 Prince, and to gain your fortune, he would have 
 tricked you, as he did me. I am thankful that I could 
 save your life, Mademoiselle, from becoming the 
 wreck that he has made mine. Through him, I lost 
 Janos, the one man who had a great love for me and 
 who could have made me happy and respected, in 
 stead of being what I am now, a woman to insult 
 and despise ! " 
 
 Camille s tone, dismal with absolute despair, roused 
 Gwendolyn, and a flood of pity swept through her, 
 driving away every unkind feeling she had had for 
 the beautiful singer. She turned to Camille, and, 
 springing forward, caught her protectingly in her 
 arms. 
 
 " No ! You are not a woman to despise ! " she ex 
 claimed. " Ignorance and inexperience made you 
 fall in flesh, but your spirit is left untouched. Some 
 day Janos will know this, too." 
 
 A great throb of surprise, joy and hope broke 
 from Camille s lips, and crushing Gwendolyn to her 
 heart, clung to her as to life itself. Her proud spirit 
 
284 T H E F L A M E 
 
 was broken by the kindly words. She became the 
 girl and Gwendolyn the strong, defending woman, for 
 the childlike youth had died and the woman had ma 
 tured while Camille was telling her story. Indigna 
 tion, resentment, disgust for her blind folly, stirred 
 the very depths of her soul, and contemptuous hatred 
 for Jean Marie rose in her heart, that he would entice 
 her into a marriage, not for herself, but for her for 
 tune. And this poor woman, sobbing in her arms, 
 had been dragged through degradation to give him 
 money to squander on dissolute living! Her arms 
 tightened about Camille and she tenderly kissed her 
 wet, pale cheek. She did not speak, but let Camille s 
 tears flow on until, at last, they ceased and she said, 
 brokenly : 
 
 " The kindest words I have heard since leaving 
 Janos are those you said to me just now." 
 
 Gwendolyn pressed her hand, and Camille, drawing 
 away, wiped her eyes. 
 
 " I didn t know that such a bad, unprincipled man 
 could be so gentle and refined," Gwendolyn said, 
 presently, in a thoughtful, unhappy tone. 
 
 " There are many men just as bad as he, Miss 
 Rolfe, but there are none who are worse. I came to 
 San Francisco to learn what he was doing and why 
 I had not heard from him, and I am glad I did come, 
 for it is worth more to me than you can imagine to 
 have met a true woman like yourself and a noble man 
 like Signer Cavarodossi. I would have traveled 
 around the world to find both of you. The only sym 
 pathy and kindly help I have had till now have come 
 from him, and my heart is overflowing with joy, 
 
THE FLAME 285 
 
 knowing that he loves you." Camille fastened a 
 searching look upon Gwendolyn, and the girl red 
 dened. " Suppose you had fallen into the clutches 
 of Bourbon, instead of being enshrined in the heart 
 of a man like Signor Cavarodossi ! " Camille fervently 
 added. 
 
 Gwendolyn did not answer, but turned away. 
 What a foolish, vain girl she had been to favor a 
 deceitful, hypocritical Prince over a simple, honest 
 man like Cavarodossi, who commanded the respect of 
 everyone! Humiliation and disgust for her weak 
 ness, roused an anger that made her blood tingle 
 through her veins, and it seemed as though her heart 
 would burst with indignation. She never wished to 
 hear the name of Jean Marie again. 
 
 " If I could have been saved from him," Camille 
 added, " how different my life would be ! I could 
 have stood at Janos s side, his social equal, making 
 him happy, instead of breaking his heart ! " She 
 bowed her head and hid her face in her hands. " The 
 one love, the one thought of my life, is Janos, and he 
 is lost to me ! " she sobbed. 
 
 Gwendolyn, turning back, gazed at her with pity. 
 If only she could help her! Camille s being a social 
 outcast, a woman for a pure girl to shun, was of no 
 consequence ; it only made the sympathy between them 
 stronger, and she wished that Feleki could forgive 
 his repentant Diane and take her to his heart again. 
 
 A knock fell upon the door. Camille went to the 
 windows and stood looking out. 
 
 Some moments passed before Gwendolyn said, 
 "Come!" 
 
286 THE FLAME 
 
 James entered and held out his dainty salver. 
 Gwendolyn slowly took the card and caught her 
 breath as she read the name. She glanced quickly 
 to Camille, then back again to James and nodded. 
 The servant quietly withdrew, and presently the visi 
 tor entered. 
 
 " I could not go away without telling you good-by, 
 Miss Rolfe. I am leaving this afternoon for New 
 York." 
 
 Camille swung round, crying, " Janos ! " 
 
 Feleki blanched, and staggering back, clutched his 
 throbbing heart. 
 
 " Have pity on her ! " Gwendolyn begged. " She 
 has told me her story, and oh, it is so sad ! She has 
 saved me, and I love her. Don t think of what her 
 life has been, think of what it would be, with you to 
 help her!" 
 
 Feleki pressed his hand to his aching forehead and 
 closed his eyes. His pale, thin face showed what he 
 had suffered in the two days that had passed since 
 the musicale. 
 
 With a flood of love rising in her heart, Camille 
 sprang forward, but he turned from her. A low, 
 broken sob burst from her lips, and Gwendolyn, 
 catching her in her arms, asked with tears in her 
 voice : 
 
 " Don t you pity Diane? Can t you forgive her? " 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle," Feleki said with an effort, 
 turning back, " I do pity Diane and I have forgiven 
 her for every capricious thing she ever has done, but 
 she " pointing to Camille " ceased to be Diane 
 when she went away with the Prince de Bourbon. 
 
THE FLAME 287 
 
 My Diane died when Camille Dubray was born. 
 Don t think me cruel and heartless, Miss Rolfe, for I 
 feel the deepest sympathy for Mademoiselle Dubray, 
 and I would help her in every way within my power. 
 There is nothing I would refuse her, but she is 
 not Diane! " 
 
 " Oh, don t say that ! " Gwendolyn implored, as 
 Camille shrank closer in her embrace. " She is 
 Diane, and always will be. Say rather that she is 
 not Camille Dubray, the woman born in a hypnotic 
 snare." 
 
 Camille s arms tightened around Gwendolyn, but 
 she said in a low, stifled tone : " He is right. You 
 don t understand. His Diane never could be what 
 I am now," and she drew away from Gwendolyn. 
 
 " Let us say good-by ! " Feleki said. " I have 
 borne so much, I have suffered so keenly, that I can 
 not endure any more. It is killing me. I am living 
 in a world alone; my only companions are a memory 
 and my violin." He paused until he could master his 
 emotions, then added : " Good-by, Miss Rolfe. I 
 hope we shall meet again." He went towards her and 
 extended his hand. 
 
 She took it, and he stooped and lightly kissed her 
 fingers. Before he could draw away, she slipped 
 Camille s hand into his. 
 
 While he hesitated, with distress drawing the mus 
 cles of his white face, Camille s eyes devoured him 
 with an absorbing, hopeless love. All the color had 
 fled from her cheeks, and Gwendolyn caught her, 
 fearing that she would fall. 
 
 At last, Feleki tremblingly stooped and kissed her 
 
288 THE FLAME 
 
 hand, and his lips lingered a moment. When he 
 straightened up, his eyes were closed, and as he 
 opened them, they were looking into a world that 
 Gwendolyn did not know. All the genius, all the pas 
 sion for his art and Diane, were burning in his soft 
 brown eyes, and as he turned away, a look of enrap 
 tured inspiration beautified his pale, classical face. 
 He silently walked from the room without looking 
 back. 
 
 Camille sprang forward. She could not lose him! 
 He was hers ! He loved her ! They had been made 
 for each other. 
 
 Gwendolyn seized her arm. " Don t go to him ! " 
 she whispered. " I believe a sacred voice has told 
 him that he will find his Diane again. Have courage 
 and wait." 
 
 With a low, broken cry, Camille sank in a chair 
 and burst into passionate tears. Gwendolyn knelt 
 beside her and held her in a close embrace. The two 
 women so entirely unlike, were filled with an undying 
 sympathy for each other, and the memory of this 
 sweet girl s compassion shed forever after a soothing, 
 hopeful light over Camille s unfortunate life. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 RICHARD came home early, intending to take 
 Gwendolyn to call on some friends who had 
 just arrived in San Francisco, coming from New 
 York. When he opened the front door, he was met 
 by James, whose countenance plainly showed anxiety. 
 After giving him a second quick glance, Richard asked 
 for his sister. 
 
 " She is in the music-room. There is a lady with 
 her," he hesitated, " the beautiful lady who sang at 
 the musicale, and, pardon me, Mr. Rolfe, but I 
 heard some heartbroken sobs not long ago and it 
 startled me. It has been about fifteen minutes since 
 Mr. Feleki left." 
 
 James had lived in the Rolfe family since Gwendo 
 lyn was a little child, and he felt the deepest affection 
 for her. 
 
 Without waiting to answer, Richard hastened to the 
 music-room, opened the door, and abruptly halted, 
 surprised at the scene before him. Gwendolyn, still 
 on her knees beside Camille, was holding the singer s 
 hand and looking up into her white, tear-stained face 
 with encouragement and sympathy. 
 
 " Dick ! " she exclaimed, as he quickly went for 
 ward. " I am glad you have come." 
 
 Camille rose, and turning aside, wiped her eyes. 
 
 " What is it ? " Richard asked with concern. 
 
290 THE FLAME 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! " Gwendolyn threw her arms around 
 her brother and hid her face in his coat. " It is aw 
 ful, av/ful ! You were right about him. I have been 
 such a blind, foolish girl ! " 
 
 " Do you mean Bourbon ? " he asked, gently strok 
 ing her hair. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Camille turned back to Richard and met his search 
 ing, inquiring gaze. 
 
 " I feared that Bourbon was visiting here with the 
 intention of winning your sister," she said with an 
 effort, for her voice was still unsteady, " and I came 
 to tell her what he is." 
 
 " God bless you for it ! " Richard fervently said. 
 " I have warned her from the first, but she thought 
 me suspicious." 
 
 " Oh, Dick, forgive me ! " Gwendolyn drew away, 
 and dropping into a chair, covered her face with her 
 hands. " I never will be foolish again ! Tell him 
 your story, Diane." 
 
 " Diane ! " he quickly echoed. 
 
 " Yes. She is Diane Godin." 
 
 An exclamation of surprise slipped from Rich 
 ard s lips and the glance he flashed to Camille asked 
 for an explanation. 
 
 Slowly, falteringly, she told again the story of her 
 life as she had related it to Gwendolyn, but it had 
 a more pathetic ring, for her meeting with Janos and 
 his silent departure had broken her and every word 
 quivered with tearful despair. 
 
 Richard, sitting opposite her, did not once glance 
 away, and as he listened, a dangerous light flared in 
 
THE FLAME 291 
 
 his steel-gray eyes and two red spots began to burn 
 on his cheeks. He had believed that Bourbon s life 
 had not been any too clean, but he had not suspected 
 the extent of his corruption. He had permitted this 
 disreputable fellow to visit his home as a friend ! He 
 had let him play the devoted cavalier to his sister! 
 Hot blood surged through him, and while Camille was 
 telling of Bourbon s abject poverty and determination 
 to win an heiress, Richard, unable to sit quiet, began 
 to pace the floor with long, impatient strides. 
 
 Gwendolyn watched him with anxiety. She never 
 before had seen him in such a rage, and feared for 
 what he might do. 
 
 Camille saw the tempest driving through him, but 
 she did not modify her accusations against Jean 
 Marie; instead, she told of his deceit and treachery 
 in more vivid and forcible words. When she had fin 
 ished, her searching eyes were resting on Richard, 
 endeavoring to read his inmost thoughts. 
 
 A time passed in silence, while he still paced the 
 floor, but presently he paused before her. 
 
 " Words cannot express my gratitude," he said, 
 " for your kindness in laying bare his life. I didn t 
 imagine that his career had been so vile. If there is 
 any way in which we can aid you, I beg of you to 
 speak." 
 
 Camille shook her head. " You have repaid me 
 bountifully by consenting to listen." She rearranged 
 her veil, making ready to leave. " I never can for 
 get the friendly courtesy that you and your sister 
 have shown me. It has brought a ray of sunshine 
 into my dark life." Turning to Gwendolyn, she 
 
292 THE FLAME 
 
 added, " You have stamped an indelible memory of 
 your dear self in my heart, Mademoiselle, and I wish 
 you every joy that this capricious life can give." 
 
 She extended her hand, but Gwendolyn threw her 
 arms about her and pressed a tender kiss upon the 
 beautiful lips from whose touch Janos had shrunk. 
 Tears rose again to Camille s eyes, and she drew the 
 girl close to her aching heart. 
 
 Richard felt a tightening in his throat as he 
 watched Gwendolyn clinging with affection to this 
 beautiful outcast and saw the deep sympathy between 
 them. He did not feel any apprehension because his 
 sister had been given an insight into a life like Ca 
 mille s and instead of shrinking from the woman, 
 loved her. He was proud that she could understand 
 and appreciate the worth in the singer and the chas 
 tity of her undying love for Feleki. 
 
 " Good-by," he said, feelingly, as he took Camille s 
 extended hand with a friendly grasp. " I heartily 
 thank you again for what you have done, and 
 want you to remember that we owe you an eternal 
 debt." 
 
 As Camille left the room, Gwendolyn went with her, 
 holding her hand. She was loath to leave the woman 
 whose life had been so unfortunate. She wanted to 
 say one last word of comfort, and as James opened 
 the door, after giving Camille a furtive glance, Gwen 
 dolyn said, her voice vibrant with faith and compas 
 sion: 
 
 " Don t lose heart, Diane. He is going to see it all 
 as it is, some day. Have courage and wait. I know 
 there is happiness before you." 
 
THE FLAME 293 
 
 Camille pressed her hand and hope sprang into her 
 eyes, for the girl s tone rang with conviction, and 
 perhaps she might be right. As Camille went down 
 the steps and entered her motor-car, she glanced back. 
 Gwendolyn was standing in the doorway, waiting to 
 wave the last farewell, and joy rose in Camille s heart, 
 for the gloom she had anticipated had not settled so 
 dismally over the home. 
 
 Gwendolyn went back into the music-room, but 
 Richard was not there, and she did not go in search 
 of him, for she wanted to be alone to think over the 
 sudden, shocking change that had come into her life. 
 It seemed as though she were many years older and 
 had been out into the world and learned what life is. 
 The thought of Jean Marie stirred in her heart noth 
 ing but repulsion and bitter indignation, and all the 
 tender feeling that she had had for him turned to 
 scorn and resentment. She well understood how Ca 
 mille had been ensnared by his fascinating manner 
 and poetic love, and she shuddered at the remembrance 
 of his unclean, degraded touch. She did not intend 
 to see him again, yet she wanted him to know that 
 she now understood and despised him for his lies and 
 hypocrisy. She could no more forgive him for seek 
 ing her for her fortune than she could for deceitfully 
 leading Camille into a life of shame. 
 
 It would not be as humiliating for Gwendolyn to 
 see Richard as to meet Cavarodossi, for she feared 
 that he, too, might learn what Jean Marie s life had 
 been and know how easily she had been deceived by 
 his suave, aristocratic manner. She hated his title 
 and everything pertaining to nobility, for she believed 
 
294 THE FLAME 
 
 it had been this that had attracted her as much as his 
 romantic devotion. 
 
 Hearing Richard coming down the stairs, she went 
 out into the hall to meet him. James was on his way 
 to answer the bell. Jean Marie entered with his hap 
 piest smile. It was four o clock, the hour he always 
 called, and Richard had espied him coming. Seeing 
 Gwendolyn, Jean uttered a joyful exclamation and 
 hurried towards her. 
 
 Impetuous anger and outraged pride sent rich 
 blood to her cheeks, and drawing herself up, she sur 
 veyed him with scorn and disgust. The burning 
 light in her eyes lashed him with bitter contempt, and 
 he fell back a step before the girl who faced him now 
 a fearless, defiant woman. 
 
 " Gwendolyn ! " he exclaimed. " What is it? " 
 
 " I have nothing to say to you," she answered, and 
 sweeping past him, went into the library, closing the 
 door behind her, but she threw herself into a chair and 
 burst into tears not only of self-disgust, but of disap 
 pointment, yet she was ashamed to acknowledge this 
 even to herself. 
 
 As Jean Marie s eyes followed her, his face went 
 white. 
 
 Richard came forward and said with an effort to 
 control his rage: 
 
 " Please step into the music-room. I have some 
 thing to say to you." 
 
 Inwardly Jean Marie recoiled and terror stole 
 over him, but Richard did not know it, for, forcing 
 a look of keen distress, the Prince said : " I shall be 
 glad to speak with you privately, Mr. Rolfe, and 
 
THE FLAME 295 
 
 learn how I have had the great misfortune to incur 
 your sister s displeasure." 
 
 Richard waited until the Prince had entered the 
 music-room, then went in and closed the door. 
 
 Jean Marie was standing before the empty fire 
 place, resting his elbow on the mantel. His bowed 
 head, his drooping shoulders, suggested the attitude 
 of an exhausted man sinking beneath a weight. When 
 Richard closed the door, the Prince quickly swung 
 round, squaring his shoulders and raising his head 
 with pride and quiet dignity. 
 
 For a moment Richard stood rigid with his fists 
 clenched, struggling to suppress his desire to thrash 
 this rascal who had come dishonestly into his home. 
 The dangerous light burning in his eyes warned Jean 
 Marie of his betrayal, and overcome by a torrent of 
 desperate fear, he trembled inwardly before this stal 
 wart American. But who had betrayed him, Fe- 
 leki or Camille? 
 
 " I fear there is some unpleasant misunderstanding, 
 Mr. Rolfe," he cautiously said. 
 
 " Misunderstanding, " Richard repeated, inter 
 rupting him. " Yes, that is it, and I want you to 
 know that we are no longer deceived." 
 
 " You astonish me, Monsieur ! " Jean Marie ex 
 claimed with well-feigned surprise, but his blood ran 
 cold. 
 
 Richard, without heeding him, went on, his anger 
 increasing with every word : " When my sister first 
 wished to invite you to our home, I was reluctant in 
 giving my consent, not because I knew anything 
 against you, but because I am skeptical when a noble- 
 
296 THE FLAME 
 
 man establishes himself for a prolonged visit in Amer 
 ica. His reason is usually too obvious. You have 
 the bearing of a gentleman, and because Gwendolyn 
 thought it unfair to be suspicious of you, I have per 
 mitted you to call here. Fortunately I have learned 
 of my mistake before any serious damage has been 
 done. I heard to-day that you are a dissolute, de 
 graded man beneath the notice of a gentleman." 
 
 Jean Marie, enraged, took a threatening step to 
 wards Richard, but the sturdy banker held his ground 
 and went on unheedingly : 
 
 " You are a social outcast in Paris, dishonest in 
 gambling and swamped with debts that have made 
 you flee to America to save yourself by enticing a 
 wealthy girl into marriage, but when you took my 
 home for a hunting-ground, you made a great mis 
 take. The castle you have talked of is not yours and 
 you haven t a cent in the world to call your own. 
 Perhaps you think your title is a worthy exchange 
 for a hard-earned American fortune, but no level 
 headed girl over here is going to marry a disreputable 
 rogue just to flaunt a high-sounding name. Usually 
 something is wrong when you fellows come over here 
 looking for a wife, and your case proves it. You 
 never fall in love with a poor girl; it is always the 
 girl with millions, who can renovate your musty pal 
 aces and pay your hounding creditors. Some of our 
 girls are foolish enough to become a nobleman s last 
 resort, but not my sister." 
 
 The tumultuous emotions surging through Jean 
 Marie choked his voice. He believed that Camille 
 had betrayed him, and now he was absolutely desti- 
 
THE FLAME 297 
 
 tute, ruined and despised. He scarcely heard what 
 Richard was saying, for the tempest sweeping through 
 him, stunned and deafened him. He felt like a 
 drowning man who sees the last substantial aid drift 
 from his frantic grasp. Richard s resonant, heavy 
 voice gave him a sudden shock when he spoke 
 again : 
 
 " Now that it has been discovered what you are, 
 you must leave San Francisco immediately, for you 
 are not fit to be received in the drawing-rooms of re 
 spectable families. If you do not leave within a 
 week, I ll publicly expose your vile life." 
 
 Jean Marie summoned enough courage to say in a 
 tone that sounded hollow and unnatural: 
 
 " I know that Camille Dubray has been telling you 
 these wild stories concerning me. Would you take 
 the word of a vulgar courtesan in preference to that 
 of a gentleman? She has lied to you." 
 
 " Don t you dare cast a slur upon that unfortunate 
 woman ! " Richard fiercely exclaimed. " You are a 
 scoundrel of the most contemptible type, and I want 
 you to leave this house at once ! " He went to the 
 door and after flinging it open, pointed to it with an 
 abrupt command that was almost a threat. 
 
 Jean Marie staggered back. Hot blood rushed to 
 his face, then left it ashen. He tried to speak, but 
 his voice failed him. How he left the room, he never 
 knew, but when he reached the hall, Richard s voice 
 came to him like a sickening blow: 
 
 " Put this fellow out, James, and never admit him 
 again." 
 
 Jean Marie passed out under the amused, sarcastic 
 
298 THE FLAME 
 
 smile that lighted the servant s eyes, and staggered 
 down the steps like a drunken man. 
 
 James watched him until he was out of sight, then 
 stepped aside to let Cavarodossi enter. Mario had 
 passed Jean Marie at the foot of the marble steps 
 and had raised his hat, but the Prince had not no 
 ticed him. 
 
 Richard was in the hall, his eyes still ablaze. 
 Quickly going forward, Cavarodossi asked what had 
 occurred. 
 
 " He is a beggarly, dishonorable scoundrel, and I 
 have thrown him out forever." 
 
 Cavarodossi wrung Richard s hand. " Then the 
 singer has told you everything? " 
 
 " Did you know it, also? " 
 
 " Yes, but it wasn t my place to tell you, because 
 . . . I love your sister, and I didn t want you to 
 think that I was taking an unfair advantage of any 
 man, especially of Bourbon, for she seemed to favor 
 him." 
 
 Richard, still holding Cavarodossi s hand, gave it 
 a hearty shake. " I want you to win her," he said. 
 " She despises Bourbon now. She is in the library. 
 Go to her and make her understand that she is not 
 to blame. I know she is overcome with humiliation." 
 He returned to the music-room, leaving Mario alone. 
 
 Quickly going across the hall, Cavarodossi opened 
 the library door, without waiting to knock. He 
 found Gwendolyn huddled in a forlorn heap in a 
 great Turkish chair, sobbing. With a low exclama 
 tion of pain and sympathy, he hurried forward and 
 knelt beside her. 
 
THE FLAME 299 
 
 " Don t ! " he begged, taking her hand. " Don t ! 
 He isn t worth your tears. I know the horrible story 
 you have heard." 
 
 She sprang up, and turning away, struggled to 
 master her emotions. " I wish you hadn t seen me 
 like this," she said in a tremulous, muffled tone. 
 " I m not crying for him. It s because I ve been so 
 foolish." 
 
 Mario rose and went to her. " You mustn t re 
 proach yourself. How could you understand his 
 treachery, when he has deceived men who know the 
 world as you never can know it." 
 
 " But I should have suspected ! I shouldn t have 
 listened to him! When he lavished foolish flattery 
 on me, I should have known that he was insincere. 
 Oh, it is so mortifying! The public may learn of 
 this ! " 
 
 Her despairing, heartbroken sob stirred all the love 
 and pity in Cavarodossi s heart, and springing for 
 ward, he impulsively clasped her in his arms. " He 
 must leave the city before any one can know there 
 is something wrong," he said. " Don t cry ! 
 Don t!" 
 
 Gwendolyn caught a quick, startled breath when 
 she felt herself enveloped in his strong, defending 
 embrace, but he was so unmistakably noble and sin 
 cere and his voice was so gentle and vibrant with love, 
 that she did not draw away. Somehow it seemed 
 as though she belonged there, for he had been her 
 ideal since she first had known him, and it was only 
 Jean Marie s poisonous attraction that had brought 
 a cloud between her heart and Cavarodossi s. Re- 
 
300 THE FLAME 
 
 membering how the Prince had folded her in his 
 wanton arms, she shrank closer to Mario, for his 
 tender embrace seemed like a haven after having 
 been madly tossed through a mighty, perilous storm. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 JEAN MARIE went back to the Fairmont, 
 stunned by desperation, and when he entered the 
 hotel, it was some time before he knew which way 
 to turn to find the elevator. He struggled to appear 
 calm, but knew that everyone who passed him gave 
 him a second surprised glance. He did not know 
 when he reached his floor, and as the elevator boy 
 said, " Your Highness ! " he started and hurried out, 
 after giving the attendant an abrupt nod. Fearing 
 that he would meet someone in the corridor, he went 
 to his rooms as quickly as he could. The silent and 
 dignified Fra^ois could not restrain a startled ex 
 clamation when the Prince appeared, but Jean 
 Marie did not notice him and the valet discreetly 
 withdrew. 
 
 Jean Marie hastened into his bedroom and eagerly 
 drained a glass of absinthe, for he felt a weakness 
 stealing over him and his thoughts were in wild con 
 fusion. One fact alone clung to him, that he was 
 abandoned, penniless. Throwing himself into a Mor 
 ris chair, he waited with feverish impatience for the 
 liquor to regulate his thoughts. 
 
 He could not forget the picture of Gwendolyn 
 standing before him, resolute, defiant, this girl 
 whom he twice had deceived and ensnared even with 
 
 appearances strongly against him. And he had 
 
 301 
 
302 THE FLAME 
 
 been vanquished by Camille, a cafe courtesan! He 
 believed he could have gained Gwendolyn s consent 
 to marry him, even against her brother s wishes, but 
 now his last hope had been dashed, for Camille had 
 come between them, a living, menacing proof of his 
 debauchery, causing him to be grossly insulted by 
 Richard Rolfe, and ridiculed by a vulgar servant f 
 He knew that he must leave the city at once, as Rich 
 ard had warned him, for Mr. Rolfe would fulfill his 
 threat to denounce him publicly ; furthermore, he had 
 no money with which to pay his debts, and they had 
 run into hundreds of dollars. But if he slipped away 
 secretly to avoid his creditors, he would receive a 
 newspaper notoriety that would brand him a rascal 
 throughout the country. If he should borrow 
 enough money of Dubois to pay his debts in San 
 Francisco, what could he do in the next city to which 
 he might go? 
 
 Despair and rage swept through him, for he knew 
 that to Camille alone he could look for support, 
 if she would accept him again. But how could he 
 go back to her after having attempted to take her 
 life? 
 
 Burning perspiration trickled from his brow, and 
 the torment of hopelessness that held him as in a 
 vise, almost robbed him of his reason. All the peace 
 and happiness of this world had dissolved beneath 
 him, letting him fall into chaos, and there was no way 
 out. 
 
 He did not eat any dinner, and Franois dared 
 not disturb him. All night he sat in the chair, and 
 it was not until nearly morning that he fell into 
 
THE FLAME 303 
 
 a light, uneasy sleep. At daybreak he awoke with 
 a start, for he had been dreaming that Camille had 
 taken him back to Paris where he was forced to live 
 as a social outcast, receiving attention only from 
 men who wished his aid in winning Camille s favors. 
 He sprang from his chair, cold, weak, and trembling. 
 His dream would be a reality if he were forced to re 
 turn to France. Any city in the world was prefer 
 able to Paris or San Francisco, but where could he 
 go to find peace? . . . Nowhere. 
 
 Early in the afternoon he forced himself to call 
 on Camille. It was a long distance to her hotel, 
 but he walked, for he was stifling. As he passed 
 along the broad paved streets, they appeared narrow 
 and cramped, and the tall buildings seemed to be 
 tottling over his head. When he reached the hotel 
 and was in the corridor leading to her rooms, his 
 heart suddenly ceased its mad beating, and swayed 
 by the sickening dread that stole over him, he clutched 
 at the high wainscoting and clung to it until he could 
 master himself sufficiently to go on. 
 
 He found Camille s reception-room door ajar and 
 heard her within, humming a soft, plaintive air. 
 Could he face this woman who knew him to be a 
 foiled assassin? Some time passed before he could 
 force himself to enter, but suddenly, with a reckless 
 hand, he flung open the door and went in. 
 
 Camille, in a pale blue lounging dress, clinging 
 softly around her, stood at the center table sorting 
 over some music. As Jean Marie entered, she 
 glanced up, and surprise flashed into her eyes, for 
 he looked haggard, desperate, careworn, absolutely 
 
304 THE FLAME 
 
 hopeless. He faced her with a sort of frightened 
 defiance and waited for her to speak. 
 
 A smile of intense satisfaction rose to her lips, for 
 she understood. 
 
 " Well, Jean, you are quite a stranger ! " she said 
 lightly, with a playful tone in her rich voice. " I 
 thought you had deserted me." 
 
 Wild joy shot through him. She had not aban 
 doned him ; but the next instant his delight turned 
 to the maddening realization of what his life would 
 be with her, the price he must pay. He did not 
 speak, but went farther into the room, and glancing 
 through the open door into her bedroom, saw her 
 trunks open and a heap of clothing thrown over a 
 chair that stood beside one of them. 
 
 " What are you doing? " he quickly asked. 
 
 " Packing. Celeste has gone to get tickets." 
 With a tinge of teasing sarcasm in her tone, she 
 answered the desperate question that flashed into his 
 eyes. " No, I haven t forgotten you. You are go 
 ing, also." 
 
 Some seconds passed before he hoarsely asked, 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Paris, of course ! " She coldly watched the 
 spasm of revolt that drove through him, and knew 
 the misery that was tearing his heart. He did not 
 reply ; he could not, and she added : " We must have 
 a final understanding. Sit down, Jean." 
 
 He shot her a quick, alarmed glance, and as he 
 searched her face, he noticed what he had not seen 
 before, that the brilliant glow in her eyes was softened 
 and her features seemed to be molded with more 
 
THE FLAME 305 
 
 tenderness. He slowly took the chair nearest him 
 and she sat on the divan by the window. He had 
 a sudden presentiment that some new calamity was 
 coming into his life, and his heart throbbed pain 
 fully. 
 
 " I am not going to continue the life I have been 
 living," she said quietly and firmly. 
 
 He caught a quick breath and gazed at her with 
 puzzled astonishment. 
 
 Calm determination shone in her eyes, and, leaning 
 forward, she nestled her elbow in the pillow on the 
 arm of the divan, and rested her cheek in her hand. 
 
 " I cannot continue this life," she went on, and 
 her clear tones were no longer tainted with cruelty 
 or mockery. " The beautiful influence of my youth 
 has returned and is calling me, and I am going to 
 follow the voice that will lead me back to my own." 
 She paused and drew a deep, refreshing breath, for 
 hope and sweet remembrance rose like a perfumed 
 mist before her eyes, shutting out Jean Marie; but 
 when it vanished, she found him watching her in an 
 eager, terrorized silence. 
 
 " When I came here to San Francisco," she went 
 on, " I had decided that if you had found success 
 over here and were leading a clean, new life, I would 
 share it with you, but if you had deceived me and 
 had not changed, I intended to make you return to 
 Paris and live to the bitter end the life into which 
 you plunged me. I was going to make you know the 
 glory of it, a glory as terrible as that which 
 you have made me learn. I intended to give you 
 luxury, to let you live as I have lived, in the out- 
 
306 THE FLAME 
 
 ward heaven and the inward hell, but yesterday my 
 life abruptly changed, when I went and saw Miss Rolf e 
 and told her what you are." Camille slightly paused, 
 for a convulsion of rage tore through him and he 
 blanched. " I never hated you as I did then to know 
 that you had ensnared that lovely, trusting girl to 
 gain her fortune that you might squander it on the 
 vile, vulgar life you love. She is the sweetest crea 
 ture I ever have known, and there is boundless joy in 
 my heart that I could save her." 
 
 Jean Marie did not answer. There was nothing 
 he could say, but he sat before her robbed of every 
 spark of manly courage. The future loomed up be 
 fore him like a horrible, repulsive monster, and sick 
 ened at the vision of it, he turned away and closed his 
 dizzy eyes. 
 
 Camille watched him without pity. His life was 
 ruined no more than hers had been, and he could 
 suffer no more than he had made her suffer. 
 
 " Janos left for New York last night," she said, 
 " and while I was with Miss Rolfe, he came to bid her 
 good-by. From the time that I left the Latin Quar 
 ter with you until my parting with him yesterday, 
 I have believed that he was lost to me forever; but 
 now hope has sprung into my heart, for as he kissed 
 my hand when leaving, the look that came into his 
 eyes was one of an inspiring belief that he would 
 find his Diane again. Gwendolyn begged me to have 
 courage and wait, and I am going to make my life 
 pure as it was when he first loved me, for I never 
 could win him back living as I am now. When you 
 took me from him, you robbed me of my true self 
 
THE FLAME 307 
 
 and created instead Camille Dubray, but she per 
 ished yesterday the instant that hope dawned. I am 
 going back to Paris, to the Latin Quarter where I 
 left him, and work my way up as I should have done 
 had I not met you. I shall sing wherever I can 
 earn money, honest money, but I shan t seek engage 
 ments in the cafes where you and your friends placed 
 me. That life is dead, and I want nothing that will 
 remind me of it. I am going to work and struggle 
 until I reach him. Perhaps I must go through pov 
 erty, for in the places where I must go honest money 
 is not easily earned, but privation will be a joy, be 
 cause it will be for him." 
 
 Jean Marie sat watching her; a storm of hatred 
 and jealousy, and of fear of his absolute destitution, 
 swept through him with maddening force. What 
 was there in life that he could cling to? He was 
 abandoned, in debt, penniless. Yet he could hardly 
 believe that she had deserted him, this dashing, ad 
 venturous girl whom he had captivated because her 
 beauty had attracted him and because he had known 
 that she could earn a living for him when all other 
 resources failed. 
 
 He could see her striving in poverty and rising to 
 success with her talent and indomitable will, but he 
 knew that he must struggle on for the rest of his 
 days. His future came before him in vivid pictures, 
 the trickery, the scheming to which he must resort 
 to earn a franc, and later perhaps to steal it. He 
 had seen in the slums of Paris men of good birth 
 who had been dragged down by a disreputable life ; he 
 had seen them wallowing in the mire, the stamp of re- 
 
308 THE FLAME 
 
 finement and culture almost erased from their bloated, 
 coarsened features, and he saw himself going as they 
 had gone. He shuddered with horror and disgust. 
 He could not speak; his voice was stifled in his 
 parched throat. 
 
 Camille knew his agony, but she went on unheed- 
 ingly : " I intend to study and improve my voice 
 so that I can rise from cafe singing to grand opera. 
 I am going to climb until I reach Janos s side, and 
 I know that he will forgive my degraded years as 
 Camille Dubray and appreciate the fight I have made 
 to become worthy of him. All my ambition, all my 
 life is for him, and I shall have no thought, no image 
 before my eyes but his face." She paused, and her 
 deep love softly lighted and beautified her perfect 
 features. 
 
 Jean Marie trembled with jealous rage. He had 
 believed that her mockery and the bitter humiliation 
 to which she often had subjected him, had killed his 
 feeling for her; he had believed that not even her 
 beauty could attract him any longer, but as he saw 
 her pure, enraptured joy, his infatuation was kindled 
 again and increased ten-fold, knowing that she was 
 lost to him. As hard as it had been for him to con 
 sider a future life with her, just as hard was it to 
 realize that he must exist without her. She had be 
 come a part of himself in the seven years that they 
 had been together, and how could the intricate web 
 into which their lives had been woven be so suddenly 
 torn asunder? For the moment even his abject pov 
 erty was forgotten, but she rudely brought him back 
 to the remembrance of it. 
 
THE FLAME 309 
 
 " I hope to leave to-morrow night," she said, 
 " You can go later. I shall furnish your steamer 
 transportation to France. Do you owe any money 
 here? " 
 
 A struggling pause passed before he said, " Yes, 
 seven hundred dollars." 
 
 " I ll give you the money, but I can t do any more, 
 for after our transportation and your debts are paid, 
 I ll not have more than eight hundred dollars left. 
 You can sell the paintings in your rooms, your 
 costly bric-a-brac and jewels, and you can get a 
 good sum for them. I shall sell my jewels, but not 
 many of them are real." 
 
 Celeste entered through the bedroom, and pausing 
 in the doorway said : 
 
 " I have the tickets, Madame, and the berths for 
 to-morrow night." She gave an envelope to Ca- 
 mille and went back into the bedroom and closed the 
 door. 
 
 While Camille was examining the tickets, Jean 
 Marie watched her with a desperation he could hardly 
 control. He knew that in a few moments he would 
 be into the street alone, ruined, helpless. His horri 
 ble future already seemed to have clutched him with 
 an iron grasp, and the slums of Paris would not van 
 ish from his overwrought mind. 
 
 Without a word, she laid his ticket on the table and 
 went into the next room. 
 
 He sprang up, and swayed by the force of his 
 emotions, caught the back of a chair to steady him 
 self. He could not give her up ! His miserable 
 heart cried out for her. She was the only one to 
 
310 T H E F L A M E 
 
 whom he could look for help, and she was leaving him 
 for love of another man ! Without her, he would be 
 stripped of every comfort in life. He could sink 
 to the depths, alone, friendless. Reason was almost 
 torn from his distracted mind, and when Camille re 
 turned, he impetuously swung round, but the cold 
 resolution in her face froze the imploring words that 
 were trembling on his white lips. 
 
 " Here s seven hundred dollars, Jean," she said. 
 
 He seized the paper with a miser s grasp, but a 
 transitory shame stole over him and he said : 
 
 "I can t take all of this, Camille. It will leave 
 you so little." 
 
 She did not betray her surprise at his first gen 
 erous offering. " No, take it. I have a way to earn 
 my living, but you haven t. It will keep you from 
 the inevitable a little longer." 
 
 He shrank back. 
 
 " There is much that I wish to do," she added 
 quietly. " You had better go." 
 
 A shudder ran through him. Those were the last 
 words she had said the night he made the attack on 
 her life. If he had not yielded to that insane im 
 pulse perhaps she would not have turned from him 
 now. 
 
 " Don t desert me, Camille, don t ! " he begged. 
 " I can t live without you. I love you ! " He seized 
 her hand and eagerly pressed it to his lips. 
 
 She drew away. " No, you don t love me. If 
 you did, you never would have let me lead this awful 
 life nor have persuaded me into it. If you had 
 
THE FLAME 311 
 
 loved me truly, you would have married me and 
 shielded me and worked for me as an honorable man 
 works for his wife. I believe that from the first all 
 you wanted of me was what my beauty, would bring. 
 You ruined me and have tried to hold me in ruin, 
 but I am going to rise above it and save myself. I 
 shall take back my own name, and my love for Janos 
 and his for Diane will give me strength to surmount 
 all hardships. Every day I shall struggle to kill 
 the memory of you and the life we have lived to 
 gether. Dear Gwendolyn truthfully called Camille 
 Dubray a woman born in a hypnotic snare, but 
 the poisonous influence that made her, has lost its 
 fatal power. Until this hope of re-winning Janos 
 came to me, I hated you, but now that I see my way 
 back to him, I feel pity for you, because I know that 
 you are not man enough to fight for an honest living. 
 I have done all I can. Now go." She took the 
 ticket from the table and gave it to him. 
 
 A sudden weakness stole over him and his heart 
 was wildly throbbing. Twice in two days he had 
 been ordered into the street, he, the Prince of Bour 
 bon, was an outcast. Every hope had perished. 
 Without another glance at Camille, he caught up 
 his hat and staggered from the room. He had a 
 few more hours to spend in luxurious apartments, 
 but they were to be hours of horror and delirium, 
 while Fran9ois sold the princely belongings for the 
 highest price. 
 
 Camille watched Jean Marie as he disappeared, 
 and hopeful joy rose in her, for she believed that free- 
 
312 THE FLAME 
 
 dom from him was the first and greatest aid towards 
 salvation and Janos. While her faith and hope were 
 brightest, she wrote to Gwendolyn. 
 
 The next evening Cavarodossi went to the station 
 to bid Camille good-by and give her a large cluster 
 of white roses from Gwendolyn. As she saw him 
 stepping into her car, she hastened forward with an 
 exclamation of delight. 
 
 " How good of you to come ! " she said, taking his 
 hand in both of hers, then gathered the beautiful 
 roses to her heart. " I had anticipated a lonely de 
 parture, as only you and the Rolfes know that I am 
 leaving." 
 
 " Miss Rolfe sends you her love," he said, " and 
 has given me a letter for you." 
 
 Camille took it, pleasure and gratitude lighting her 
 eyes. 
 
 " You all have been so good to me." Her voice 
 trembled. 
 
 " No better than we should have been," he said, 
 feelingly. " I never can express my appreciation of 
 the kindly way in which you tore the deceptive cov 
 ering from Bourbon s wretched life and helped me 
 win the girl who is dearer to me than all the world. 
 Gwendolyn let me read your letter, and I am positive 
 that your noble struggle will take you back to Janos. 
 Don t falter, don t fear. Happiness is before you." 
 
 When he left, he turned back before stepping from 
 the car and saw her standing with the flowers clasped 
 lovingly in her arms and her face buried in the 
 pure, white petals. 
 
THE FLAME 313 
 
 Before the train had started, Camille eagerly read 
 Gwendolyn s letter written in French: 
 
 Dear Diane: 
 
 Can you imagine my pleasure when I read 
 your welcome letter and learned that I 
 helped awaken the hope in your heart that 
 has led you into a nobler life? Noth 
 ing could give me more joy and satisfac 
 tion. This alone is worth living for. I 
 want to hear from you again to know how 
 you are progressing. 
 
 He has gone out of my life forever, and 
 so suddenly that his coming seems to have 
 been a terrible dream, until I think 
 of you. What a life there is before him, 
 unless his soul is deadened to all shame, and 
 surely that cannot be. I often think of 
 what he said one day, " As ye sow, so shall 
 ye reap ! " Could he have understood the 
 meaning of the words and yet held them in 
 such utter disregard? But think of them 
 yourself, Diane. Now that you are stepping 
 into a new life, or, rather, back into the 
 old, what a harvest of love, contentment 
 and pride you will reap ! Strive on, and 
 the world will help you. 
 
 I can see Janos before you now, his face 
 inspired with the same beauty we saw the 
 other day, but he is holding out his longing 
 arms, and I hear him say one single word, 
 Diane! 
 
TRAILS THROUGH 
 WESTERN WOODS 
 
 By HELEN FITZGERALD SANDERS 
 
 The author-artist gives us an idyl of forest trails, cloud-swept 
 mountains, glacier-born cascades, gentle Selish and heart-broken 
 Indian chiefs, born to learn their day is past. The book will 
 widen the circles of those who regret the passing of the brave, 
 free life of the wilderness. 
 
 "The author deserves the gratitude of the American nation for capturing 
 the nebulous star-mist of its beginnings and that which went before." 
 
 Illustrated by the Author. Colored end sheets. 
 $2.00 net; postage 16 cents. 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK and SEATTLE 
 
THE MASTER ROAD 
 
 By CARLIN EASTWOOD 
 
 GRATIA DREXLER, wealthy, socially 
 elect, obeys an impulse toward ex 
 pression leading her to active settlement 
 work in the slums. Blindly treading her 
 sweet way, she set in motion forces whose 
 action and reaction on her and on Hartley 
 Taine is herein told with a repression ad 
 mirable in its resultant heart-grip and 
 dramatic tenseness. 
 
 The reader will live every hour of happi 
 ness and grief, pain and joy portrayed with 
 such sure touch. 
 
 THE MASTER ROAD 
 
 will be a greater play than "Salvation 
 Nell. Dramatic rights secured by America s 
 leading playwright and producer. Sure to 
 have a tremendous success. 
 
 Illustrated, $1.85 net; Postage 10 cents 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 AVENUE NEW YORK and SE ATTLE 8 B uiLmNG 
 
A MAN OF 
 TWO COUNTRIES 
 
 A POLITICAL NOVEL 
 
 By ALICE HARRIMAN 
 
 Other books: STORIES OF MONTANA, SONGS o THE SOUND, CHAPERONING 
 ADRIENNE THROUGH THE YELLOWSTONE. SONGS o* THE OLYMPICS 
 
 QUERY. Why does 
 an Englishman ever 
 become an Ameri 
 can? 
 
 TIME. 1878-1891. 
 PLACE. Montana. 
 
 THE MAN. A young 
 Englishman. 
 
 THE GIRL. There 
 are two. 
 
 A Man of 
 Two Countries 
 
 Alice Harriman. 
 
 A story with hither 
 to unused local color 
 and thoroughly 
 original characters 
 
 Illustrated withpen 
 and ink chapter 
 headings by C. M. 
 Dowling. 
 
 Striking four color 
 wrapper. 
 
 Price $1.50, postage l%c. 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 A VENUENEW YORK and SEATTLE 
 
The TEMPTATION 
 OF ST. ANTHONY 
 
 By GUSTAVE FLAUBERT 
 
 Translated by LAFCADIO HEARN Introduction by ELIZABETH BISLAND 
 
 This translation of the great French masterpiece, which 
 has been called "The Epic of the Human Soul s Search 
 for Truth," was recently discovered among Lafcadio 
 Hearn s posthumous papers. The whole tendency of 
 Hearn s tastes fitted him especially of all writers to turn 
 that masterpiece into its true English equivalent. 
 
 The tortured Saint is whirled by vertiginous visions 
 through cycles of man s efforts to know why? whence? 
 whither? He assists at the terrifying rites of Mithra, 
 the prostrations of serpent-worshippers of fire, of light, 
 of the Greek s deified forces of nature, of the Northern 
 enthronement of brute force and war. Plunges into 
 every heresy and philosophy, sees the orgies, the flagel 
 lations, the self-mutilations, the battles and furies of 
 sects, each convinced it has found the answer to the 
 Great Question. His experiences startlingly reproduce 
 the scientific and spiritual researches of the man of 
 to-day. 
 
 $1.25 net; postage, 10 cents 
 
 THE ALICE HARRIMAN COMPANY 
 
 AVENUE NEW YORK and SE A TTLE 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 
 LD 21-100m-7, 39(402s) 
 
Taber, Lou 
 
 J.C* w* 
 
 The fl 
 
 6627U1 
 
 ise S 
 
 Til 3 
 
 a me 
 
 6627D1 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY