She had talked it over and over again with him—­how they must wait until she was twenty-one, then they would be married and go to live at Hanton.

“You will like Hanton,” she said.  “It is old, gray and picturesque; the woods are beautiful, there is a river running through them.”

“I shall like any place that I could share with you,” he replied.  “When shall you leave this place, Marion?”

“At Christmas, I expect.  But, Allan, shall we never see each other until I am twenty-one?”

“I hope so,” he replied.  “You do not know where you will live?”

“No, that is not decided.  Lord Ridsdale says I cannot go to Hanton alone, and I know that I cannot live at his house.”

“But go where you will, Marion, you will write to me and see me sometimes?”

“Of course I shall.  If I remain in London it will be comparatively easy, and if I go into the country you will be obliged to follow me.”

“I wish I could disguise myself as a page and go with you,” he said.  “I do not see how I am to live without you.”

He did another thing which touched her generous heart—­he painted a picture, and with the proceeds of the sale of it he purchased a ring for her.  It was his sister who told her how the ring was procured.

“It is my belief,” said Miss Lyster, “that if he could change his whole heart into one great ruby, he would do so, and offer it to you.”

She placed the ring on her finger, and he made her promise never to take it off.  It was made of rubies and opals set in pure gold.

“Do not remove that, Marion,” he said, “until I can find a plain gold ring and that shall bind you to me for as long as we both shall live.”

CHAPTER VIII.

A change came at last—­one for which none of the three had been prepared:  Lord Ridsdale married.

The first thing the new Lady Ridsdale did was to insist on the removal of Miss Arleigh from school.

“Nearly eighteen,” she said, “and still at school!  My dear William, the only wonder is that the poor girl has not fallen into some dreadful mischief.  She ought to have been presented last year.  We must have her home at once.”

Lady Ridsdale was a woman of the world; she knew exactly how much eclat and importance would accrue to her from the fact of being chaperone to a wealthy heiress like Miss Arleigh.

“Is the girl pretty?” she asked her husband; and to do him justice, he looked much confused.

“I hardly know what to answer you, Laura.  I must confess the truth; I have not seen her for two years and more.  When my wife died I was quite at a loss what to do with her, so I sent her to school.  Miss Carleton promised to take complete charge of her, and I have not seen her, as I say, for more than two years.”

“Was she a pretty girl then?” persisted Lady Ridsdale.

“I think so.  Miss Carleton said she was beautiful.  She had been crying when I saw her, so that I could hardly judge.”