"As a rule, Marion, you are quite right. Concealments are odious. But there are exceptions—this is one—I love you; but I am only a poor artist, struggling to make a name. You, sweet, are rich and beautiful. From your high estate you smile upon me as a queen might smile on a subject. You are a true heroine. You are content 'to lose the world for love.'"
"I am content," said the girl, with a little sigh of supreme happiness; "but I wish it were all open and straightforward. I wish you would go to my guardian and tell him you love me. Then tell Miss Carleton. Indeed, she would not be angry."
"Do you know what would happen if I did as you advise, Marion?" he asked.
"Nothing would happen," she replied; "and they would be pleased to see me happy."
"You have to learn some of the world's lessons yet," he said. "If I were to go to Lord Ridsdale and say to him, 'My Lord, I love your ward and she loves me,' do you know what he would do?"
"No," she replied, slowly.
"He would send for you at once, and take such measures as would prevent me from ever seeing you again. If I were to tell him, Marion, we should be parted forever. Could you bear that, darling?"
"No," she replied, "I could not, Allan. If you think so, we—we will keep our secret a little longer."
"Thank you," he said, gratefully, kissing the little white hand clasped in his. "I knew you would not be cruel, Marion. You are so heroic and grand—so unlike other girls; you would not darken my solitary life for an absurd scruple—you would not refuse to see me, when the sight of you is the only sunbeam that cheers my life."
The beautiful face brightened at his words.