"Dorothy, you must know what manner of love it is that brings me to plead for the smallest crumb of what has been once refused. I come simply, in all humility, with outstretched hands to ask your love." He drew nearer, and she did not retreat.
"Oh, it is so useless--so hopeless, Phil," she said, softly. "Why will you persist? I cannot grant even the crumb."
"I love you, Dorothy," he cried passionately.
"Oh! Phil; you must understand that I can give you nothing--absolutely nothing. For God's sake--for my sake, for the sake of that dear friendship we own together, go away and forget--forget everything," she said, piteously.
A half-hour later he slowly descended the steps, staggering like a man sick unto death. She sat where he left her, her wide, dry eyes seeing nothing, her ears hearing nothing but the words his love had forced her to utter. These words:
"Yes, heaven help me, I do care for you. But, go! Go! I can never see you again. I shall keep the bargain I have made, if I die at the altar. I cannot break my promise to him." And all his pleading could not break down that decision--not even when she found herself for one brief, terrible instant in his straining arms, his lips upon hers.
It was all over. He calmly told his friends, as he had told her, that he would sail for New York on the first steamer, and Turk reluctantly began to pack the things. The night before he was to leave for Hamburg, the Saxondales, Lady Jane and Savage sat with him long into the night. Prince Ugo's watchdogs were not long in discovering the sudden turn affairs had taken, and he was gleefully celebrating the capitulation.
The next day the Saxondales accompanied the two Americans to the railway station, bade them a fond farewell and hastened back to the home of the Baron St. Auge with new resolutions in their hearts. The forepart of the ensuing week saw their departure from Brussels. Deliberately they turned their backs on the great wedding that was to come, and as if scorning it completely, journeyed to Lord Bob's ruins in Luxemburg, preferring the picturesque solitude of the tumbledown castle to the empty spectacle at St. Gudule. Brussels may have wondered at their strange leave-taking on the eve of the wedding, but no explanation was offered by the departing ones.