shine before.

It seemed to sail triumphantly in the dark-blue sky. It poured a flood
of silvery light on the sleeping flowers and trees.

She had not lingered to look round the pretty dressing room as she left
it. Her eyes had not dwelt on the luxurious chamber and the white bed,
wherein she ought to have been sleeping, but, now that she stood
outside the Hall, she looked up at the windows with a sense of
loneliness and fear. There was a light in Lady Helena's room and one
in Lord Airlie's. She shrank back. What would he think if he saw her
now?

Deeply she felt the humiliation of leaving her father's house at that
hour of the night; she felt the whole shame of what she was going to
do; but the thought of Lord Airlie nerved her. Let this one night
pass, and a life time of happiness lay before her.

The night wind moaned fitfully among the trees; the branches of the
tall lime trees swayed over her head; the fallen leaves twirled round
her feet. She crossed the gardens; the moon cast strange shadows upon
the broad paths. At length she saw the shrubbery gate, and, by it,
erect and motionless, gazing on the bending trees in the park, was Hugh
Fernely. He did not hear her light footsteps--the wind among the lime
trees drowned them. She went up to him and touched his arm gently.

"Hugh," she said, "I am here."

Before she could prevent him, he was kneeling at her feet. He had
clasped her hands in his own, and was covering them with hot kisses and
burning tears.

"My darling," he said, "my own Beatrice, I knew you would come!"

He rose then, and, before she could stop him, he took the shawl from
her head and raised the beautiful face so that the moonlight fell
clearly upon it.

"I have hungered and thirsted," he said, "for another look at that
face. I shall see it always now--its light will ever leave me more.
Look at me, Beatrice," he cried, "let me see those dark eyes again."

But the glance she gave him had nothing in it but coldness and dread.
In the excitement of his joy he did not notice it.

"Words are so weak," he said, "I can not tell you how I have longed for
this hour. I have gone over it in fancy a thousand times; yet no dream
was ever so bright and sweet as this reality. No man in the wide world
ever loved any one as I love you, Beatrice."

She could not resist the passionate torrent of words--they must have
touched the heart of one less proud. She stood perfectly still, while
the cal