He saw her embarrassment, and did his best to remove it.

“How beautiful these roses are!” he said, gently.  “The duchess is fortunate to have such a little paradise here.”

“She ought to be surrounded by everything that is fairest and most beautiful on earth,” she declared, “for there is no one like her.”

“You are fond of her?” he said.

She forgot all her shyness, and raised her blue eyes to his.

“Fond of her?  I love her better than any one on earth—­except perhaps, my mother.  I could never have dreamed of any one so fair, so bewitching, so kind as the duchess.”

“And she seems attached to you,” he said, earnestly.

“She is very good to me—­she is goodness itself;” and the blue eyes, with their depth of poetry and passion, first gleamed with light, and then filled with tears.

“We must be friends,” said Lord Arleigh, “for I, too, love the duchess.  She has been like a sister to me ever since I can remember;” and he drew nearer to the beautiful girl as he spoke.  “Will you include me among your friends?” he continued.  “This is not the first time that I have seen you.  I stood watching you yesterday; you were among the roses, and I was in the morning-room.  I thought then, and I have thought ever since, that I would give anything to be included among your friends.”

His handsome face flushed as he spoke, his whole soul was in his eyes.

“Will you look upon me as one of your friends?” he repeated, and his voice was full of softest music.  He saw that even her white brow grew crimson.

“A friend of mine, my lord?” she exclaimed.  “How can I?  Surely you know I am not of your rank—­I am not one of the class from which you select your friends.”

“What nonsense!” he exclaimed.  “If that is your only objection I can soon remove it.  I grant that there may be some trifling difference.  For instance, I may have a title; you—­who are a thousand times more worthy of one—­have none.  What of that?  A title does not make a man.  What is the difference between us?  Your beauty—­nay, do not think me rude or abrupt—–­ my heart is in every word that I say to you—­your grace would ennoble any rank, as your friendship would ennoble any man.”

She looked up at him, and said, gently: 

“I do not think you quite understand.”

“Yes, I do,” he declared, eagerly; “I asked the duchess yesterday who you were, and she told me your whole story.”

It was impossible for him not to see how she shrank with unutterable pain from the words.  The point-lace fell on the grass at her feet—­she covered her face with her hands.

“Did she?  Oh, Lord Arleigh, it was cruel to tell it!”

“It was not cruel to tell me,” he returned.  “She would not tell any one else, I am quite sure.  But she saw that I was really anxious—­that I must know it—­that it was not from curiosity I asked.”