"Tony, my belovedest," he whispered. "Say it just once. Tell me you love me." It was the old, old plea, but in Tony's ears it was immortally new.

"I love you, Alan. I didn't want to. I have fought it all along as you know. But it was no use. I do love you."

"My darling! And I love you. You don't know how I love you. It is like suddenly coming out into sunshine after having lived in a cave all my life. Will you marry me to-morrow, _carissima_?"

But she drew away from his arms at that.

"Alan, I can't marry you ever. I can only love you."

"Why not? You must, Tony!" The old masterfulness leaped into his voice.

"I cannot, Alan. You know why."

She lifted her eyes to his and in their clear depths he saw reflected his own willful, stained, undisciplined past. He bowed his head in real shame and remorse. Nothing stood between himself and Antoinette Holiday but himself. He had sown the wind. He reaped the whirlwind.

After a moment he looked up again. He made no pretence of misunderstanding her meaning.

"You couldn't forgive?" he pleaded brokenly. Gone was the royal-willed Alan Ma.s.sey. Only a beggar in the dust remained.

"Yes, Alan. I could forgive. I do now. I think I can understand how such things can be in a man's life though it would break my heart to think Ted or Larry were like that. But you never had a chance. n.o.body ever helped you to keep your eyes on the stars."

"They are there now," he groaned. "You are my star, Tony, and stars are very, very far away from the like of me," he echoed Carlotta's phrase.

For almost the first time in his life humility possessed him. Had he known it, it lifted him higher in Tony's eyes than all his arrogance and conceit of power had ever done.

Gently she slid her hand into his.

"I don't feel far away, Alan. I feel very near. But I can't marry you--not now anyway. You will have to prove to them all--to me, too--that you are a man a Holiday might be proud to marry. I could forget the past. I think I could persuade Uncle Phil and the rest to forget it, too.

They are none of them self-righteous Puritans. They could understand, just as I understand, that a man might fall in battle and carry scars of defeat, but not be really conquered. Alan, tell me something. It isn't easy to ask but I must. Are the things I have to forget far back in the past or--nearer? I know they go back to Paris days, the days Miss Lottie belongs to. Oh, yes," as he started at that. "I guessed that. You mustn't blame her. She was merely trying to warn me. She meant it for my good, not to be spiteful and not because she still cares, though I think she does. And I know there are things that belong to the time after your mother died, and you didn't care what you did because you were so unhappy. But are they still nearer? How close are they, Alan?"

He shook his head despairingly.

"I wish I could lie to you, Tony. I can't. They are too close to be pleasant to remember. But they never will be again. I swear it. Can you believe it?"

"I shall have to believe it--be convinced of it before I could marry you. I can't marry you, not being certain of you, just because my heart beats fast when you come near me, because I love your voice and your kisses and would rather dance with you than to be sure of going to Heaven. Marriage is a world without end business. I can't rush into it blindfold. I won't."

"You don't love me as I love you or you couldn't reason so coldly about it," he reproached. "You would go blindfold anywhere--to h.e.l.l itself even, with me."

"I don't know, Alan. I could let myself go. While we were dancing in there I am afraid I would have been willing to go even as far as you say with you. But out here in the star-light I am back being myself. I want to make my life into something clean and sweet and fine. I don't want to let myself be driven to follow weak, selfish, rash impulses and do things that will hurt other people and myself. I don't want to make my people sorry. They are dearer than any happiness of my own. They would not let me marry you now, even if I wished it. If I did what you want and what maybe something in me wants too--run off and marry you tomorrow without their consent--it would break their hearts and mine, afterward when I had waked up to what I had done. Don't ask me, dear. I couldn't do it."

"But what will you do, Tony? Won't you marry me ever?" Alan's tone was helpless, desolate. He had run up against a power stronger than any he had ever wielded, a force which left him baffled.

"I don't know. It will depend upon you. A year from now, if you still want me and I am still free, if you can come to me and tell me you have lived for twelve months as a man who loves a woman ought to live, I will marry you if I love you enough; and I think--I am sure, I shall, for I love you very much this minute."

"A year! Tony, I can't wait a year for you. I want you now." Alan's tone was sharp with dismay. He was not used to waiting for what he desired. He had taken it on the instant, as a rule, and as a rule, his takings had been dust and ashes as soon as they were in his hands.

"You cannot have me, Alan. You can never have me unless you earn the right to win me--straight. Understand that once for all. I will not marry a weakling. I will marry--a conquerer--perhaps."

"You mean that, Tony?"

"Absolutely."

"Then, by G.o.d, I'll be a conquerer!" he boasted.

"I hope you will. Oh, my dear, my dear! It will break my heart if you fail. I love you." And suddenly Tony was clinging to him, just a woman who cared, who wanted her lover, even as he wanted her. But in a breath she pulled herself away. "Take me in, Alan, now," she said.

"Kiss me once before we go. I shall not see you in the morning. This is really good-by."

Later, Carlotta, coming in to say goodnight to Tony, found the latter sitting in front of the mirror brushing out her abundant red-brown hair and noticed how very scarlet her friend's cheeks were and what a tell-tale shining glory there was in her eyes.

"It was a lovely party," announced Tony casually, unaware how much Carlotta had seen over her shoulder in the mirror.

"Tony, are you in love with Alan Ma.s.sey?" demanded Carlotta.

Tony whirled around on the stool, her cheeks flying deeper crimson banners at this unexpected challenge.

"I am afraid I am, Carlotta," she admitted. "It is rather a mess, isn't it?"

Carlotta groaned and dropping into a chaise lounge encircled her knees with her arms, staring with troubled eyes at her guest.

"A mess? I should say it was--worse than a mess--a catastrophe. You know what Alan is--isn't--" She floundered off into silence.

"Oh, yes," said Tony, the more tranquil of the two. "I know what he is and isn't, better than most people, I think. I ought to. But I love him.

I just discovered it to-night, or rather it is the first time I ever let myself look straight at the fact. I think I have known it from the beginning."

"But Tony! You won't marry him. You can't. Your people will never let you. They oughtn't to let you."

Tony shook back her wavy mane of hair, sent it billowing over her rose-colored satin kimono.

"It don't matter if the whole world won't let me. If I decide to marry Alan I shall do it."

"Tony!"

There was shocked consternation in Carlotta's tone and Tony relenting burst into a low, tremulous little laugh.

"Don't worry, Carlotta. I'm not so mad as I sound. I told Alan he would have to wait a year. He has to prove to me he is--worth loving."

"But you are engaged?" Carlotta was relieved, but not satisfied.

Tony shook her head.

"Absolutely not. We are both free as air--technically. If you were in love yourself you would know how much that amounts to by way of freedom."

Carlotta's golden head was bowed. She did not answer her friend's implication that she could not be expected to comprehend the delicate, invisible, omnipotent shackles of love.

"Don't tell anyone, Carlotta, please. It is our secret--Alan's and mine.

Maybe it will always he a secret unless he--measures up."

"You are not going to tell your uncle?"