Meantime Clara had wandered quietly up the hollow, and disappeared in search of something which grew a little way off, she said. So Caroline was not to move till she came back, unless she wished to be lost utterly.
Caroline liked the solitude, and the cool ripple of the brook soothed her. She was rather sorry when a footstep on the forest turf heralded the return of her friend; but she looked up with a welcoming smile, and saw Lord Hilton, her Italian teacher—the man who had told her more than once that he loved her better than his own life!
She did not cry out, or rise from her hard seat, but sat still, looking at him in mournful quietness. What was he, what could he ever be, to her? A nobleman of the realm, and the Olympia's daughter!
He came down the bank and seated himself by her side.
"Caroline, have you no welcome to give me?"
She looked at him with a gleam of excitement in the sadness of her eyes.
"You know who I am, and I, alas! know that you are Lord Hilton," she said, with a touch of pathetic pride. "How can I welcome you?"
"Have you, then, ceased to love me, Caroline?"
Her pale face flushed, her eyes kindled.
"Is this a question to ask me?"