Throughout the evening while she was laughing and talking with the stream of guests, Marcia kept a sub-conscious notion of Sybert’s movements. She saw him in the hall exchanging jokes with the English ambassador. She saw him talking to Eleanor Royston and bending over the Contessa Torrenieri. And once, as she whirled past in a waltz, she caught sight of his dark face in a with his eyes on her, and she forgave him Eleanor and the contessa. She was conscious all the time of a secret at herself. Sybert had suddenly become for her the only person in the room, and while she was outwardly intent upon what other men were saying, her mind was filled with the picture of his face as he had looked during that silent moment by the fountain. She went through the evening in a , conscious only of the approach of the one dance she had with him.  
193 When the evening was nearing its end she was suddenly brought to her senses by the that she was strolling down one of the ilex walks with Paul Dessart at her side. She had been on unheedingly, and she scarcely knew how they had come there. Her first instinct was one of self-preservation; she felt what was coming, and she wanted to it off. Anything to get back to the crowd again! She paused and looked back at the lighted , listening to the sound of the violins rising above the of voices and laughter. For a moment she almost felt to turn and run. Since she had stopped, Paul stopped perforce, and looked at her questioningly.
 
‘I—I think we’d better go back,’ she . ‘This dance is almost over, and——’
 
‘We won’t go back just yet,’ he returned. ‘I want to talk to you. You owe me a few moments, Marcia. Come here and sit down and listen to what I have to say.’
 
He turned into the little circle by the fountain and motioned toward a garden seat. Marcia dropped limply upon it and looked at him with an air of pleading. There was no ; both knew that the time had come when everything must be said, and Paul went to the point.
 
‘Well, Marcia, are you going to marry me?’
 
Marcia sat opening and shutting her fan , trying to frame an answer that would not hurt him.
 
‘I’ve been patient; I haven’t bothered you. You surely ought to know your own mind now. You’ve had a month—it hasn’t been exactly a happy month for me. Tell me, please, Marcia. Don’t keep me waiting any longer.’
 
‘Oh, Paul!’ she said, looking back with half-frightened eyes. ‘It’s all a mistake.’
 
‘A mistake! What do you mean? Marcia, I trusted you. You can’t throw me over now. Tell me quickly!’
 
‘Forgive me, Paul,’ she . ‘I—I was mistaken. I thought, that day in the ——’
 
He realized that, somehow, she was slipping away from him and that he must fight to get her back. He toward her and took her hand, with his glowing, eager face close to hers, his words coming so fast that he fairly stuttered.
 
‘Yes, that day in the cloister. You did care for me then, didn’t you, Marcia—just a little bit? You let me hope—you told me there wasn’t any other man—you’ve been kind 194 to me ever since. That’s what I’ve lived on this whole month—the memory of that afternoon. Tell me what the trouble is—don’t let anything come between us. We’ve had such a happy spring—let it keep on being happy. We’ve lived in Arcady, Marcia—you and I. Why should we ever leave it? Why must we go back—why not go forward? If you cared that afternoon, you can care now. I haven’t changed. Tell me why you hesitate. I don’t want to force you to make up your mind, but this is simply hell.’
 
Marcia listened, breathing fast, half carried away by the impetuous flow of his words. She sat watching him with troubled eyes and silent lips in a sort of . She could not collect her thoughts to answer him. What had she to say? she asked herself wildly. What could she say that was adequate?
 
Paul, bending forward, his eyes close to hers, was waiting expectantly, , for her to speak, when suddenly they were startled by a step on the path before them, and they both looked up to see Laurence Sybert, cigarette in hand, stroll around the corner of the ilex walk. As his eye fell upon them he stopped like a man shot, and for a breathless instant the three faced one another. Then, with a quick of his whole figure, he bowed an apology and wheeled about. Marcia turned from red to white and snatched her hand away.
 
Paul watched her a moment with an angry light growing in his eyes. ‘You are in love with Laurence Sybert!’ he whispered.
 
Marcia shrank back in the corner and hid her face against the back of the seat. Paul bent over her.
 
‘Look at me,’ he cried; ‘tell me it’s not true. You can’t do it! You’ve been deceiving me. You’ve been lying! Oh, yes, I know you’ve been very careful not to make any promises in so many words, but you’ve made them in other ways, and I believed you. I’ve been fool enough to think you in earnest, and all the time you’ve been amusing yourself!’
 
Marcia raised her eyes to his. ‘Paul, I haven’t. You are mistaken. I don’t know how I’ve changed; I can’t explain. That day in the cloister I thought I liked you very much. And if Margaret hadn’t come in, perhaps—I wouldn’t have deceived you for a moment, and you know it.’
 
195 ‘Tell me you don’t love Sybert.’
 
‘Paul, you have no right——’
 
‘I have no right! You said there was no one else, and I believed you; and now, when I ask for an explanation, you tell me to go about my business. I suppose you were beginning to get tired of me these last few days, and thought——’
 
‘You have no right to talk to me this way! I haven’t meant to deceive you. You asked me if there were any one else, and I told you there was not, and it was true. I’m sorry—sorry to hurt you, but it’s better to find it out now.’
 
Paul rose to his feet with a very hard laugh.
 
‘Oh, yes, decidedly it’s better to ............