where I will cultivate the soil of my forefathers, than a
palace on the Champs Elysees with another. We can come to Paris for two
months, at least. For you I can throw my prospects out of the window
with a light heart. Honore--how sweet is your name in my language--I
love you to despair."

He seized her hand and pressed it to his lips, but she drew it gently
away. It seemed to her that he had made the very air quiver with
feeling, and she let herself wonder, for a moment, what life with him
would be. Incredible as it seemed, he had proposed to her, a penniless
girl! Her own voice was not quite steady as she answered him, and her
eyes were filled with compassion.

"Vicomte," she said, "I did not know that you cared for me--that way. I
thought--I thought you were amusing yourself."

"Amusing myself!" he exclaimed bitterly. "And you--were you amusing
yourself?"

"I--I tried to avoid you," she replied, in a low voice.

"I am engaged."

"Engaged!" He sprang to his feet. "Engaged! Ah, no, I will not believe
it. You were engaged when you came here?"

She was no little alarmed by the violence which he threw into his words.
At the same time, she was indignant. And yet a mischievous sprite within
her led her on to tell him the truth.

"No, I am going to marry Mr. Howard Spence, although I do not wish it
announced."

For a moment he stood motionless, speechless, staring at her, and then
he seemed to sway a little and to choke.

"No, no," he cried, "it cannot be! My ears have deceived me. I am not
sane. You are going to marry him--? Ah, you have sold yourself."

"Monsieur de Toqueville," she said, "you forget yourself. Mr. Spence is
an honourable man, and I love him."

The Vicomte appeared to choke again. And then, suddenly, he became
himself, although his voice was by no means natural. His elaborate and
ironic bow she remembered for many years.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle," he said, "and adieu. You will be good enough to
convey my congratulations to Mr. Spence."

With a kind of military "about face" he turned and left her abruptly,
and she watched him as he hurried across the lawn until he had
disappeared behind the trees near the house. When she sat down on
the bench again, she found that she was trembling a little. Was the
unexpected to occur to her from now on? Was it true, as the Vicomte had
said, that she was destined to be loved amidst the play of drama?

She felt sorry for him because he had loved her enough t