'I may go now; may I not?' she said.

'You have not kissed me yet, Marie?' Then she kissed him; but the
touch of her lips was cold, and he felt that there was no love in
them. He knew, though he could hardly define the knowledge to
himself, that she had accepted him in obedience to her uncle. He
was almost angry, but being cautious and even-tempered by nature he
repressed the feeling. He knew that he must take her now, and that
he had better make the best of it. She would, he was sure, be a
good wife, and the love would probably come in time.

'We shall be together this evening; shall we not?' he asked.

'O, yes,' said Marie, 'if you please.' It was, as she knew, only
reasonable now that they should be together. Then he let her go,
and she walked off to her room.



CHAPTER IX.

'I suppose it had better be so,' Marie Bromar had said to her lover,
when in set form he made his proposition. She had thought very much
about it, and had come exactly to that state of mind. She did
suppose that it had better be so. She knew that she did not love
the man. She knew also that she loved another man. She did not
even think that she should ever learn to love Adrian Urmand. She
had neither ambition in the matter, nor even any feeling of prudence
as regarded herself. She was enticed by no desire of position, or
love of money. In respect to all her own feelings about herself she