“It is a shame she had to marry a landsman,” said Captain Lancaster, when he and Captain John had gone home.  “It seems to me she would have suited you.”

“You might mention that the next time you go to her house,” said Captain Asher.  “I don’t believe it has ever been properly considered.”

It was at this time that Olive’s mind was set at rest about one of her discarded lovers.  Mr. Du Brant wrote her a letter.

“MY DEAR MISS ASHER—­It is very long since I have had any communication with you, but this silence on my part has been the result of circumstances, and not owing, I assure you upon my honor, to any diminution of the great regard (to use a moderate term) which I feel for you.  I had not the pleasure of seeing you when I left Broadstone, but our mutual friend, Mrs. Easterfield, told me you had sent to me a message.  I firmly (but I trust politely) declined to receive it.  And so, my dear Miss Asher, as the offer I made you then has never received any acknowledgment, I write now to renew it.  I lay my heart at your feet, and entreat you to do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage.

“And let me here frankly state that when first I read of your great deed—­you are aware, of course, to what I refer—­I felt I must banish all thought of you from my heart.  Let me explain my position, I had just received news of the death of my uncle, Count Rosetra, and that I had inherited his title and estates.  It is a noble name, and the estates are great.  Could I confer these upon one who was being so publicly discussed—­the actor in so terrible a drama?  I owed more to society, and to my noble race, and to my country than I had done before becoming a noble.  But ah, my torn heart!  O Miss Asher, that heart was true to you through all, and has asserted itself in a vehement way.  I recognized your deed as noble; I thought of your beauty and your intellect; of your attractive vivacity; of your manner and bearing, all so fine; and I realized how you would grace my title and my home; how you would help me to carry out the great ambitions I have.

    “Will you, lady, deign to accept my homage and my love?  A favorable
    answer will bring me to make my personal solicitations.

    “Your most loving and faithful servant,

    “CHRISTIAN DU BRANT.

    “(Now Count Rosetra.)”

“What a bombastic mixture!” thought Olive, as she read this effusion.  “I wonder if there is any real love in it!  If there is, it is so smothered it is easily extinguished.”

And she extinguished it; and thoughts of Count Rosetra troubled her no more.

She did not show Dick this letter, but she thought it due to Mrs. Easterfield to read it to her.  “He has got it into his head that an American woman, such as you, will make his house attractive to people he wants there,” commented that lady.  “You have not considered me at all, you ungrateful girl!  Only think how I could have exploited ’my friend, the countess’!  And what a fine place for me to visit!”