e you well enough to die for you, and far too well to bring
trouble on you, Lance."

"My darling, there is only one thing that can bring trouble on me, and
that would be to lose you; that would kill me. You hear me, Leone, it
would not make me grow thin and pale, after the fashion of rejected
lovers, but it would kill me. Do not ask me to leave you an hour longer
than I need. Ah, my love, yield: do not grieve me with a hundred
obstacles--not even with one. Yield, and say that you will agree to my
plan."

There was no resisting the pleading of the handsome young face, the
loving eyes, the tender words, the passionate kisses; she could not
resist them; it was so sweet to be loved so well.

"You must keep our secret from that honest, stolid, good uncle of
yours," said Lord Chandos, "or he will think himself bound to call and
tell Dr. Hervey. You promise me, then, Leone, my love, to do what I ask,
and to be my own beloved wife, when the three weeks are over?"

"Yes, I promise, Lance," she replied.

Her voice was grave and sweet, her beautiful face had on it the light of
a beautiful and noble love.

"Then kiss me, as the children say, of your own accord, and let that
kiss be our betrothal."

She raised her lips to his for the first time and kissed him.

"That is our betrothal," he said; "now nothing can part us. Leone, I
waited for your promise to give you this."

He opened a small jewel-case, and took from it a diamond ring.

"This is what ladies call an engagement-ring," he said; "let me put it
on your finger."

She shrank back.

"Lance," she said, "do you remember the words of the song,

"'A ring in pledge he gave her,
And vows of love he spoke.'

How strange that by this stream you should offer me a ring!"

"You seem to think there is a fatality in the water, Leone," he said,
quietly.

"I have an idea that I cannot express, but it seems to me that story is
told in the falling water."

"If the water tells of a golden bright life, all happiness, with the
most devoted and loving of husbands, then it may tell you as much as it
likes. Let me put the ring on your finger, Leone."

She held out her hand--such a beautiful hand, with a soft, pink palm and
tapering fingers. As he went to place the ring on her finger, it fell
from his hand into the water below, and Leone uttered a low cry.

"It is not lost," he said; "it has not fallen into the stream, it is
here."

Looking down, she saw the flash