"
A bitter smile wreathed the lady's lips as she replied: "Could any wound
that I might receive increase the burden on my heart?" She laughed
harshly, then asked suddenly: "Perhaps you are afraid the colonel will
think I am the mysterious lady of the Nameless Castle?"
Count Vavel's face reddened to the roots of his hair.
Again the lady laughed, then said apologetically: "Pardon me, but the
idea amused me. But, to return to Colonel Barthelmy, he is going very
shortly to Italy with his regiment; therefore, I need not care what
fables he thinks of me--or repeats. The few persons whose opinion I care
for will not believe him; as for the others--pah! Come, your hand on it!
Let us perpetrate this joke. If _I_ am willing to run the risk, you
surely need not hesitate."
And yet he hesitated.
"Don't speak of this plan of yours as a mischievous trick, baroness," he
said earnestly. "It is a great, a noble sacrifice--so great, indeed,
that living woman could not perform a greater--to be willing to blush
with shame while innocent. She who blushes for her love does not suffer;
but to flush with shame out of friendship must be a torture like that
endured by martyrs.
Pages:
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236