"My Lady Dunstanwolde," he began; and then with a sudden passion,
"Clorinda, my beloved!" The time had come when he could not keep
silence, and with great leapings of her heart she knew. Yet not one word
said she, for she could not; but her beauty, glowing and quivering under
his eyes' great fire, answered enough.

"Were it not that I fear for your sake the beast you ride," he said, "I
would lay my hand upon his bridle, that I might crush your hand in mine.
At post-haste I have come from France, hearing this thing--that you
endangered every day that which I love so madly. My God! beloved, cruel,
cruel woman--sure you must know!"

She answered with a breathless wild surrender. "Yes, yes!" she gasped,
"I know."

"And yet you braved this danger, knowing that you might leave me a
widowed man for life."

"But," she said, with a smile whose melting radiance seemed akin to
tears--"but see how I have beaten him--and all is passed."

"Yes, yes," he said, "as you have conquered all--as you have conquered
me--and did from the first hour. But God forbid that you should make me
suffer so again."

"Your Grace," she said, faltering, "I--I will not!"

"Forgive me for the tempest of my passion," he said. "'Twas not thus I
had thought to come to make my suit. 'Tis scarcely fitting that it