"No. To me it was almost worse than that. She, this lovely girl whom I so dearly loved, was beneath me in station, yet I worshiped her. She affected to love me—whether she did or not, Heaven only knows. But just as I had made up my mind to marry her, because I loved her so dearly I could not live without her, she disappeared—went away out of my life, and I have not seen her since."
"What a strange story," she replied, indifferently, "and how strange that you should tell it to me, Lord Vivianne."
"Because," he cried, with sudden passion, "you are so much like her—do you not see? You are so much like her that I could look in your face and cry out—'Dora, Dora, have you forgotten me?'"
She laughed again.
"Could you? How strange! I should feel very much surprised if you did."
"You are so like her. When I look at you my heart seems to leave me."
Her violet eyes, with their proud light, looked into his calmly.
"I did not think the men of the present day knew much about love," she said; "but you seem to have loved her."
"Loved her!—but I forget myself, Lady Studleigh; you might as well try to imagine what the heat and thunder of battle are like, from seeing them painted on canvas, as guess how I loved her from hearing me use the word love."
"You should find her and tell her all this," she said.