her
pale cheeks, exquisitively lovely in her agitation and sorrow. Yes, she
did love him; her heart was beating passionately; she was longing to
throw herself on his breast, to be folded upon that manly heart, in
trust in that brave, bright look which seemed to defy fortune. Yes, he
was a man born to conquer; he was handsome, intellectual, powerful in
all mental and physical gifts. A man of men. But he was, by his own
admission, a very obscure and insignificant person, and he had no money.
Life with him meant a long fight with adverse circumstances; life for
his wife must mean patience, submission, long waiting upon destiny, and
perhaps with old age and grey hairs the tardy turning of Fortune's
wheel. And was she for this to resign the kingdom that had been
promised to her, the giddy heights which she was born to scale, the
triumphs and delights and victories of the great world? Yes, Lesbia
loved this fortuneless knight; but she loved herself and her prospects
of promotion still better.

'Oh, Lesbia, can you not be brave for my sake--trustful for my sake? God
will be good to us if we are true to each other.'

'God will not be good to me if I disobey my grandmother. I owe her too
much; ingratitude in me would be doubly base. I will speak to her. I
will tell her all you have said, and if she gives me the faintest
encouragement----'

'She will not; that is a foregone conclusion. Tell her all, if you like;
but let us be prepared for the answer. When she denies the right of your
heart to choose its own mate, then rise up in the might of your
womanhood and defy her. Tell her, "I love him, and be he rich or poor, I
will share his fate;" tell her boldly, bravely, nobly, as a true woman
should; and if she be adamant still, proclaim your right to disobey her
worldly wisdom rather than the voice of your own heart. And then come to
me, darling, and be my own, and the world which you and I will face
together shall not be a bad world. I will answer for that. No trouble
shall come near you. No humiliation shall ever touch you. Only believe
in me.'

'I can believe in you, but not in the impossible,' answered Lesbia, with
measured accents.

The voice was silver-sweet, but passing cold. Just then there was a
rustling among the pine branches, and Lesbia looked round with a
startled air.

'Is there any one listening?' she exclaimed. 'What was that?'

'Only the breath of heaven. Oh, Lesbia, if you were but a little less
wise, a l