CHAPTER II.


"You cannot be cruel. You cannot think it is wrong to meet me. My whole
life, with everything in it, belongs to you. If you told me to lie down
here and die at your feet, I should do so and smile. Why do you say it
is wrong, Marion?"

A lovely, child-like face was raised to the speaker.

"I do not know. I have a vague idea that anything requiring secrecy must
be wrong. Is it not so?"

He laughed.

"No, sweet. What would the great diplomatists of the world say to such a
theory? Rather try to believe that what is stolen is sweet."

She smiled, but the anxious expression still lingered on her lovely
young face. He noticed it.

"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;