iolet began, in a
trembling voice. Then resolutely repressing her emotion, she continued:
"I have known, of course, that you regarded me in a very friendly way;
but it almost frightens me to have you express yourself so strongly as
you have just done."

"Frightens you to learn of the depth of my affection," he said, with
some surprise.

"Yes--to know that it has taken such a hold upon your life and that such
a responsibility has fallen upon me. I know that you are good, and true,
and noble, and you have my deepest esteem; but--but oh----"

"Violet, what does this mean? I do not understand your distress at all,"
Lord Cameron said, looking deeply pained.

"Did not my sister tell you that I had a confession to make to you?" the
young girl asked, with burning cheeks.

"No," the young man returned, very gravely; "she told me that you would
receive me--that I might hope for a favorable answer to my suit. She did
hint, however, that there had once been a childish attachment, as she
expressed it; but I hardly gave the matter a thought since she made so
light of it."

"Belle has done wrong, then, to let you hope for so much; and now, Lord
Cameron, may I tell you all there is in my heart? May I make a full
confession to you? and then you shall judge me as you will."

"Certainly, you may tell me anything you wish," he replied, wondering
more and more at her excessive emotion. "Do not be so distressed, dear
child," he added, as she covered her face with her thin hands, and he
saw the tears trickling between her fingers. "I should blame myself more
than I can tell you, for seeking this interview, if by so doing I cause
you so much unhappiness. I will even go away and never renew this
subject--though that would darken all my future life--rather than
agitate you thus."

"Forgive me," Violet said, wiping her tears. "I will try not to break
down like this again, and I will deal with you with perfect frankness; I
know I do not need to ask you to respect my confidence."

"Thank you," he simply answered.

Violet then began by relating the accident of the incline plane and its
frightful consequences; she told how, almost miraculously, she and
Wallace were saved; about her illness in his home, and of their growing
fondness for each other during her convalescence. When she told of
Wallace's confession of his love for her and hers for him, she bowed her
face again upon her hands and went on, in quick, passionate tones, as if
it wa