; but Rossmoyne loves her too; and though
Ronayne's rent-roll is by no means to be despised, still it counts but
as a small one beside that of Rossmoyne's.

And Hermia is right! a title _is_ of use in the world; and nothing is so
lasting or so satisfactory as a respectable book at one's banker's. A
good match (Hermia again) is the one thing to be desired; it covers all
sins. Advice such as this coming from Mrs. Herrick is thoroughly
disinterested, as the late lamented Mr. Herrick, having behaved to her
like a brute during their mercifully short married life, had died in the
odor of sanctity, leaving her complete mistress of all his enormous
wealth, and quite free to make a second marriage of her _own_ choosing.

With her (Olga), however, the case is widely different; she is indeed
without encumbrances so far as children may so be termed, and she has
sufficient means to enable her to get her gowns and things from Paris,
but there her independence ends.

As she runs over all this hurriedly in her mind, the desire for riches
grows upon her. Yes, there is certainly a great deal of good in
Rossmoyne, besides his income; and perhaps a solid sternness is
preferable to an airy gayety of manner (this with an irrepressible
leaning towards the "airy gayety"); and--and--what a _pity_ it is that
Rossmoyne is not Ulic!----

"I will," says Ronayne, alluding to her last remark, in a low but
determined tone. "Olga, tell me I am more to you than Rossmoyne."

"The boy you are!" says Olga, with an adorable smile that reaches him
through the flickering flashes of the firelight. "The baby!" He is
bending over her, and with a light caressing touch she brushes back the
hair from his temples. "In a year, nay, in a month, once we are
separated, you will see some other face, newer, more desirable, and
forget you ever cared for mine."

"If I could believe that, I might find peace. Yet, for all that peace
could give me, I would not so believe it. I am yours forever, boy though
you deem me; and, yet, is one ever a boy again when one has once truly
loved?"

"How often have you truly loved?" with an attempt at lightness that is
down-trodden by the intensity of her regard.

"As often as I have seen you. Nay, more than that, every moment since I
first saw you; because night and day, whether absent or present, I have
been yours in heart and soul."

"You have fatigued yourself!--A long two months!" laughingly.

"A short two months."

"There