She was not surprised; he was so completely part and parcel of her thoughts and her life that she would never have felt surprised at seeing him. He came up to her quietly.
"My darling Madaline, your face is pale, and there are tears in your eyes. What is the matter? What has brought you out here when you ought to be in-doors? What is the trouble that has taken away the roses and put lilies in their place?"
"I have no trouble, Lord Arleigh," she replied. "I came here only to think."
"To think of what, sweet?"
Her face flushed.
"I cannot tell you," she answered. "You cannot expect that I should tell you everything."
"You tell me nothing, Madaline. A few words from you should make me the happiest man in the world, yet you will not speak them."
Then all the assumed lightness and carelessness died from his manner. He came nearer to her; her eyes drooped before the fire of his.
"Madaline, my love, let me plead to you," he said, "for the gift of your love. Give me that, and I shall be content. You think I am proud," he continued; "I am not one-half so proud, sweet, as you. You refuse to love me--why? Because of your pride. You have some foolish notions that the difference in our positions should part us. You are quite wrong--love knows no such difference."
"But the world does," she interrupted.