"Violet, come," he repeated, earnestly, as he held out his strong right hand to her.
"I dare not," she said, "and yet——"
"You want to—you will!" he cried, eagerly, as, leaning toward her, he clasped the small hand that lay upon the arm of her chair.
It was icy cold, and glancing anxiously into her face, he saw that she had fainted away.
The excitement of the interview, the desolation of her wounded heart, and the longing for home and rest, were too much for her frail strength, and she had swooned, even while he thought she was consenting to be his wife.
He sprang to the bell and rang for assistance, then gathering her in his arms, he gently laid her upon a sofa, just as the door opened and Mrs. Mencke entered.
"I am afraid that I have overtaxed her strength," Lord Cameron said, in a tone of self-reproach, as he lifted a rueful face to her.
"Have you won?" she asked, eagerly.
"I think so, but——"
Mrs. Mencke waited for nothing more.