ladyship to the match, and winning her entire
forgiveness for you and me.'

'You are talking of impossibilities,' said Lesbia, frowning. 'Why do you
talk to me as if I were a child? I know hardly anything of the world,
but I do know the woman who has reared and educated me. My grandmother
would never forgive me if I married a poor man. I should be an outcast.'

'We would be outcasts together--happy outcasts. Besides, we should not
always be poor. I tell you I am predestined to conquer fate.'

'But we should have to begin from the beginning.'

'Yes, we should have to begin from the beginning, as Adam and Eve did
when they left Paradise.'

'We are not told in the Bible that they had any happiness after that. It
seems to have been all trouble and weariness, and toil and death, after
the angel with the flaming sword drove them out of Eden.'

'They were together, and they must have been happy. Oh, Lesbia, if you
do not feel that you can face poverty and the world's contempt by my
side, and for my sake, you do not love me. Love never calculates so
nicely; love never fears the future; and yet you do love me, Lesbia,' he
said, trying to fold her in his arms; but again she drew herself away
from him--this time with a look almost of horror--and stood facing him,
clinging to one of the pine trunks, like a scared wood-nymph.

'You have no right to say that,' she said.

'I have the divine right of my own deep love--of heart which cries out
to heart. Do you think there is no magnetic power in true love which can
divine the answering love in another? Lesbia, call me an insolent
coxcomb if you like, but I know you love me, and that you and I may be
utterly happy together. Oh, why--why do you shrink from me, my beloved;
why withhold yourself from my arms! Oh, love, let me hold you to my
heart--let me seal our betrothal with a kiss!'

'Betrothal--no, no; not for the world,' cried Lesbia. 'Lady Maulevrier
would cast me off for ever; she would curse me.'

'What would the curse of an ambitious woman weigh against my love? And I
tell you that her anger would be only a passing tempest. She would
forgive you.'

'Never--you don't know her.'

'I tell you she would forgive you, and all would be well with us before
we had been married a year. Why cannot you believe me, Lesbia?'

'Because I cannot believe impossibilities, even from your lips,' she
answered sullenly.

She stood before him with downcast eyes, the tears streaming down