Bracken--does."     

       "Oh, call him Ned by all means," said Hench quietly. "I see you are friendly enough with him to do so."     

       "I am engaged to him."     

       "With your mother's consent?"     

       "No. You know very well that mother wants me to marry a rich man, and Ned is poor, although he does hope to get a few hundred pounds now that his mother is dying. I love him and I intend somehow to marry him."     

       "That is unpleasant hearing for me, Zara."     

       "Indeed, it isn't, Mr. Hench. I know quite well what has led you to propose marriage to me----"     

       "I never have proposed as yet," interpolated Hench quickly.     

       "No. But you intended to. If I had not prevented you from going too far these last few days you would have proposed. Come now, isn't that the truth?"     

       "Yes! And to make you understand me fully I ask you now to be my wife."     

       "Then I refuse. I love Ned, and Ned only, even though he's but a poor violinist in the orchestra and earns little money. He loves me also, and in a way which you cannot comprehend."     

       "Why not?"     

       "Because your heart has never been touched either by me or by any other woman. It's no use your saying that it has been. I know you better than you do yourself, Mr. Hench."     

       The young man felt slightly mortified. "You appear to have a bad opinion of me, Mademoiselle."     

       "Indeed, I have a most excellent opinion of you. Make no mistake about that, Mr. Hench. You are an honourable gentleman; you are extremely kind-hearted and you will be an admirable husband--to the woman you love."     

       "You are the woman, believe me!" cried Hench impetuously.     

       Zara shook her proud head, smiling, and looked less fierce than usual.       "Oh, what children men are. They want a toy and cry when they don't get it, yet break it when it is in their possession. I am the toy, Mr. Hench, and you are the child who wants it."     

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