ain. He had learned to
associate poetry with the pale moonlight and golden hair, with a very
fair face and a soft ripple of sweet speech. Still he intended most
honorably to keep his promise; he took great delight, too, in thinking
of Leone's passionate happiness, of her beautiful face, of the ecstasy
of welcome she would give him. Then, of course, he must marry her; the
very day after that would be the first of July, and, for the first time,
he thought of his coming marriage with a sigh--it would separate him so
entirely from his mother, and from Lady Marion; in all probability he
would never see much of her again. He thought more of her loss than of
his own.

"How she will miss me," he said to himself; "she will have no one to
consult, no one to advise her. I wish we could always be the same good
friends as now."

Then it occurred to him that perhaps, after all, his wife would not care
to know that he was on such confidential terms with any one but herself.

He would have felt far less sure of either his return or his marriage if
he had overheard a slight conversation that took place between his
mother and Lady Marion. The Countess of Lanswell called one day and took
the young heiress out for a drive with her; when they were seated,
driving through scenery so beautiful one could hardly believe it to be a
fallen world, the countess in her sweetest manner, which she knew how to
make quite irresistible, said:

"Lady Marion, I want you to help me to do something, if you will."

"You know I will do anything I can for you, Lady Lanswell," said the
girl, gently; "I could have no greater pleasure."

She did not add, because I love your son, but this was in her mind, and
the countess quite understood it.

She continued:

"You know how I love my dear and only son, how anxious I am for his
welfare, how devoted to his interests."

"I can imagine it all," said Lady Marion, warmly.

The countess went on:

"He has an idea, a quixotic, foolish and most unhappy one, one that if
carried out will mar his life and ruin his prospects, and in the end
break his heart. Now, I want you to help me break off this idea; he
thinks of returning to England in June, and if he does, all hope is
over. He never allows himself to be coerced or persuaded; as to the word
'marriage' it would be a fatal one, but we might, I am sure, influence
him--that is, if you will help me."

"I will do all I can," said Lady Marion, earnestly; her sweet fa