"Tomorrow," continued Lord Earle, "we will talk of the future; we are all tired tonight. You will sleep in peace, Airlie, I suppose?"
"If I sleep at all," he replied.
"Well, you understand clearly that, had the choice rested with me I should have selected you from all others to take charge of my Beatrice," said Lord Earle. "Do not wait to thank me. I have a faint idea of how much a grateful lover has to say. Good night."
"What is it, Beatrice?" asked Lillian, as the two sisters stood alone in the bright little dressing room.
"I can hardly tell you in sober words," she replied. "Lord Airlie has asked me to be his wife—his wife; and oh, Lily, I love him so dearly!"
Pride and dignity all broke down; the beautiful face was laid upon Lillian's shoulder, and Beatrice wept happy tears.
"I love him so, Lily," she went on; "but I never thought he cared for me. What have I ever done that I should be so happy?"
The moonbeams never fell upon a sweeter picture than these fair young sisters; Lillian's pure, spirituelle face bent over Beatrice.
"I love him, Lily," she continued, "for himself. He is a king among men. Who is so brave, so generous, so noble? If he were a beggar, I should care just as much for him."