he
present it is sufficient to say that he was in love with Hermione, and
that he had never before cared seriously for any woman. He was cold by
nature, and his wandering life as a diplomatist, together with his fixed
determination to excel in his career, had not been favorable to the
development of love in his heart. The repose of Carvel Place, the
novelty of the life, and the comparative freedom from all
responsibility, had relaxed the hard shell of his sensibilities, and the
beauty and grace of Hermione had easily fascinated him. She, on her
part, had distinguished with a woman's natural instinct the curious
duality of his character. The grave, powerful, dominating man attracted
her very forcibly; the cold, impenetrable, apparently heartless soul, on
the other hand, repelled her, and almost inspired her with horror when
it showed itself.

One afternoon in the end of January, Paul and Hermione were walking in
the park. The weather was raw and gusty, and the ground hard frozen.
They had been merely strolling up and down before the house, as they
often did, but, being in earnest conversation, had forgotten at last to
turn back, and had gone on along the avenue, till they were far from the
old mansion and quite out of sight. They had been talking of Paul's
approaching departure, and they were both in low spirits at the
prospect.

"I am like those patches of snow," said Paul. "The clouds drop me in a
beautiful place, and I feel very comfortable; and then I have to melt
away again, and the clouds pick me up and carry me a thousand miles off,
and drop me somewhere else. I wish they would leave me alone for a
while."

"Yes," said Hermione. "I wish you could stay with us longer."

"It is of no use to wish," answered Paul bitterly. "I am always wishing
for things I cannot possibly have. I would give anything to stay here. I
have grown so fond of you all, and you have all been so kind to me--it
is very hard to go, Hermione!"

He looked almost tenderly at the beautiful girl beside him, as he spoke.
But she looked down, so that he could hardly see her face at all.

"I have never before felt as though I were at home," he continued. "I
never had much of a home, at the best. Latterly I have had none at all.
I had almost forgotten the idea when I came to England. It is hard to
think how soon I must forget it again, and all the dear people I have
known here."

"You must not quite forget us," said Hermione. Her voice trembled