s too sacred to be talked about and she was anxious to have the
recital over as soon as possible. She spoke of her sister's opposition
to this affection and its consequences, with all the passion and trouble
it had aroused, and Vane Cameron's face grew graver, yet very tender and
pitiful as she proceeded. It was all told at last--Violet had concealed
nothing of her affection for Wallace, nothing of her rebellion against
her sister's wishes regarding her marriage with himself, and having thus
unburdened her soul, she still sat with bowed head before him, waiting
for his judgment of her.

There was a silence of several minutes after she had concluded, while
both seemed to be battling with the emotions which filled their hearts;
then Lord Cameron spoke, and the tender cadence of his voice thrilled
the young girl as it had never done before.

"Poor child! poor wounded, loving heart!" he said. "I wonder how you
have borne your sorrow. I know there is no human sympathy that can heal
your wound--only One, who has all power, can do that. But, Violet, I can
see, even though you shrink from saying it--even though you have tried
to hide as much of the wrong done you by others as you could--I can see
that you are unhappy from other causes than the loss of this dear one.
Your heart is starving for sympathy, love, and comfort. Now, just as
frankly as you have talked to me, I am now going to talk to you. You
have said that the drama of your life is played out--has ended in
tragedy; that you have loved and lost--your heart has exhausted itself,
and you can never love again. This may be so, Violet; we will assume
that it is"--his lip quivered painfully as he said it, and his face was
very pale--"still, in all probability, there are many years of life
before you--years which may be filled with much of good for those about
you, if not of absolute happiness for yourself. Could you make up your
mind to spend them with me? Do not be startled by the proposition,
dear," he said, as he saw the quiver that agitated her; "you shall think
of it as long as you will, and shall not be urged to anything from which
you shrink. I love you--that fact remains unalterable, in spite of all
that you have told me, and though your heart may not have one responsive
vibration to mine, yet I feel that I would gladly devote all my future
to the work of winning you to a more cheerful frame of mind--that I
should be happier in doing that than in living without you.