"To make my fortune and win my lady."

When Paul spoke in that tone and wore that look, Lillian felt as if they
had changed places, and he was the master and she the servant. She
wondered over this in her childish mind, but proud and willful as she
was, she liked it, and obeyed him with unusual meekness when he
suggested that it was time to return. As he rode silently beside her,
she stole covert glances at him from under her wide hat brim, and
studied his unconscious face as she had never done before. His lips
moved now and then but uttered no audible sound, his black brows were
knit, and once his hand went to his breast as if he thought of the
little sweetheart whose picture lay there.

He's got a trouble. I wish he'd tell me and let me help him if I can.
I'll make him show me that miniature someday, for I'm interested in that
girl, thought Lillian with a pensive sigh.

As he held his hand for her little foot in dismounting her at the hall
door, Paul seemed to have shaken off his grave mood, for he looked up
and smiled at her with his blithest expression. But Lillian appeared to
be the thoughtful one now and with an air of dignity, very pretty and
becoming, thanked her young squire in a stately manner and swept into
the house, looking tall and womanly in her flowing skirts.

Paul laughed as he glanced after her and, flinging himself onto his
horse, rode away to the stables at a reckless pace, as if to work off
some emotion for which he could find no other vent.

"Here's a letter for you, lad, all the way from some place in Italy. Who