“A year!  Tony, I can’t wait a year for you.  I want you now.”  Alan’s tone was sharp with dismay.  He was not used to waiting for what he desired.  He had taken it on the instant, as a rule, and as a rule, his takings had been dust and ashes as soon as they were in his hands.

“You cannot have me, Alan.  You can never have me unless you earn the right to win me—­straight.  Understand that once for all.  I will not marry a weakling.  I will marry—­a conquerer—­perhaps.”

“You mean that, Tony?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, by God, I’ll be a conquerer!” he boasted.

“I hope you will.  Oh, my dear, my dear!  It will break my heart if you fail.  I love you.”  And suddenly Tony was clinging to him, just a woman who cared, who wanted her lover, even as he wanted her.  But in a breath she pulled herself away.  “Take me in, Alan, now,” she said.  “Kiss me once before we go.  I shall not see you in the morning.  This is really good-by.”

Later, Carlotta, coming in to say goodnight to Tony, found the latter sitting in front of the mirror brushing out her abundant red-brown hair and noticed how very scarlet her friend’s cheeks were and what a tell-tale shining glory there was in her eyes.

“It was a lovely party,” announced Tony casually, unaware how much Carlotta had seen over her shoulder in the mirror.

“Tony, are you in love with Alan Massey?” demanded Carlotta.

Tony whirled around on the stool, her cheeks flying deeper crimson banners at this unexpected challenge.

“I am afraid I am, Carlotta,” she admitted.  “It is rather a mess, isn’t it?”

Carlotta groaned and dropping into a chaise lounge encircled her knees with her arms, staring with troubled eyes at her guest.

“A mess?  I should say it was—­worse than a mess—­a catastrophe.  You know what Alan is—­isn’t—­” She floundered off into silence.

“Oh, yes,” said Tony, the more tranquil of the two.  “I know what he is and isn’t, better than most people, I think.  I ought to.  But I love him.  I just discovered it to-night, or rather it is the first time I ever let myself look straight at the fact.  I think I have known it from the beginning.”

“But Tony!  You won’t marry him.  You can’t.  Your people will never let you.  They oughtn’t to let you.”

Tony shook back her wavy mane of hair, sent it billowing over her rose-colored satin kimono.

“It don’t matter if the whole world won’t let me.  If I decide to marry Alan I shall do it.”

“Tony!”

There was shocked consternation in Carlotta’s tone and Tony relenting burst into a low, tremulous little laugh.

“Don’t worry, Carlotta.  I’m not so mad as I sound.  I told Alan he would have to wait a year.  He has to prove to me he is—­worth loving.”

“But you are engaged?” Carlotta was relieved, but not satisfied.

Tony shook her head.