She loves
you, Rene de Ronville, and you have told her that you love her. If
you are a man worthy of respect you will not desert her. Don't you
think I am right?"
Like a singed and crippled moth vainly trying to rise once again
to the alluring yet deadly flame, Rene de Ronville essayed to
break out of his embarrassment and resume equal footing with the
girl so suddenly become his commanding superior; but the effort
disclosed to him as well as to her that he had fallen to rise no
more. In his abject defeat he accepted the terms dictated by Alice
and was glad when she adroitly changed her manner and tone in
going on to discuss the approaching dance.
"Now let me make one request of you," he demanded after a while.
"It's a small favor; may I ask it?"
"Yes, but I don't grant it in advance."
"I want you to wear, for my sake, the buff gown which they say
was your grandmother's."
"No, I won't wear it."
"But why, Alice?"
"None of the other girls have anything like such a dress; it would
not be right for me to put it on and make them all feel that I had
taken the advantage of them, just because I could; that's why."
"But then none of them is beautiful and educated like you," he
said; "you'll outshine them anyway."
"Save your compliments for poor pretty little Adrienne," she
firmly responded, "I positively do not wish to hear them.
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