er. "Oh, I wish I could
go home!" and yet where, on the face of the earth, had she now a home?

This wistful, almost despairing cry actually brought tears to the eyes
of the strong man at her side, while his heart sank heavily within him,
for surely there had been no thought of him or of his great love in that
homesick wail.

But bravely putting aside self, as he always did where she was
concerned, he gently returned:

"You shall go home if you wish--you shall do anything you like, and I
will not urge you to any step against which your heart rebels; still, if
you are willing to go with me, I will gladly take you home to America.
Mr. and Mrs. Mencke, I know, have no thought of returning at present, as
they have told me that they intend to travel for the next year or two,
and hope to see the most of Europe during that time. It seemed to me
that you were not strong enough, just now, to begin such a ceaseless
round of travel, and that is why I proposed the Isle of Wight. Shall we
go there to rest until you are a little more robust, and then, if you
wish, we will return to America?"

How good--how kind he was! And if he had only been her brother, Violet
could have thrown herself upon his breast and wept out her gratitude for
and appreciation of his thoughtfulness.

But to speak the words that would settle her destiny for life--to tell
him that she would become his wife immediately--how could she?

Still she knew it must be one thing or the other--either a hurry and
rush over Europe with uncongenial companions, or a going away to some
peaceful retreat as the Countess of Sutherland.

At last, with a mighty effort to control the nervous trembling that
seized her, but with a sense of despair in her heart, she murmured, in a
scarcely audible voice:

"I will go to the Isle of Wight."

Vane Cameron made no reply to this, though his heart gave a great leap
of gladness. He simply laid one hand gently and tenderly upon hers for a
moment, then touching up his horse, drove rapidly up the avenue leading
to the hotel, where upon the wide piazza, they saw Mr. and Mrs. Mencke
seated among the other guests of the house.

"May I tell your sister that you have decided against the tour through
the Alps?" Vane whispered, as he lifted Violet's light form from the
carriage.

"Yes," she assented, and then fled to her own room, where she sank
nearly fainting upon her bed.

She felt that she was irrevocably bound now; that she had give