is," resumed Valentine, after a short pause; "I
like you better, perhaps, than any man I know, but I do not love you."

"You do not forbid me to try all I can to win your love?" asked the
prince.

"No," was the calm reply. "I esteem you very highly, prince. I can
not say more."

"But you will in time," he replied. "I would not change your quiet
friendly liking, Miss Charteris, for the love of any other woman."

Under the bright sky the handsome Italian told the story of his love in
words that were poetry itself--how he worshiped the fair calm girl so
unlike the women of his own clime. As she listened, Valentine thought
of that summer morning years ago when Ronald had told her the story of
his love; and then Valentine owned to her own heart, that, if Ronald
were in Prince di Borgezi's place, she would not listen so calmly nor
reply so coolly.

"How cold and stately these English girls are!" thought her lover.
"They are more like goddesses than women. Would any word of mine ever
disturb the proud coldness of that perfect face?"

It did not then, but before morning ended Prince di Borgezi had
obtained permission to visit England in the spring and ask again the
same question. Valentine liked him. She admired his noble and
generous character, his artistic tastes, his fastidious exclusiveness
had a charm for her; she did not love him, but it seemed to her more
than probable that the day would come when she would do so.

* * * * *

Lady Charteris and her daughter left Florence and returned to Greenoke.
Lady Earle paid them a long visit, and heard all they had to tell of
her idolized son. Lady Charteris spoke kindly of Dora; and Valentine,
believing she could do something to restore peace, sent an affectionate
greeting, and asked permission to visit the Elms.

Lady Earle saw she had made a mistake when she repeated Valentine's
words to Dora. The young wife's face flushed burning red, and then
grew white as death.

"Pray bring me no more messages from Miss Charteris," she replied. "I
do not like her--she would only come to triumph over me; I decline to
see her. I have no message to send her."

Then, for the first time, an inkling of the truth came to Lady Earle.
Evidently Dora was bitterly jealous of Valentine. Had she any cause
for it? Could it be that her unhappy son had learned to love Miss
Charteris when it was all too late? From that day Lady Earle pitied
her son with a