Once more he opened his arms, and in his brilliant eyes she read his meaning.

The revelation burst upon her like the unexpected blinding glow of sunshine smiting one who approaches the mouth of a cavern, in whose chill gloom, after weary groping, all hope had died.  She felt giddy, faint, and the world seemed dissolving in a rosy mist.

“My Lily, my proud little flower!  You will not come?  Then Erle Palma must take his own, and hold it, and wear it for ever!”

He folded his arms around her, strained her to his bosom, and laid his warm trembling lips on hers.  What a long passionate kiss, as though the hunger of a lifetime could never be satisfied.

After his stern self-control and patient waiting, the proud man who had never loved any one but the fair young girl in his arms, abandoned himself to the ecstasy of possession.  He kissed the eyebrows that were so lovely in his sight, the waving hair on her white temples, and again and again the soft sweet trembling lips that glowed under his pressure.

“My precious violet eyes, so tender and holy.  My silver Lily, mine for ever.  Erle Palma’s first and last and only love!”

When, with his cheek resting on hers, he told her why his sense of honour had sealed his lips while she was a ward beneath his roof, entrusted by her mother to his guardianship, and dwelt upon the suffering it had cost him to know that others were suing for her hand, trying to win away the love, which his regard for duty prevented him from soliciting, she began to realize the strength and fervour of the affection that was now shining so deliciously upon her heart.  She learned the fate of the glove he had found on his desk and locked up; of the two faded white hyacinths he had begged and worn in his breast pocket because they had rested on her hair; of the songs he wanted simply for the reason that he had heard them on the night when she fainted and he had first kissed her cold unconscious lips.

Would the brilliant New York Bar have recognized their cool, inflexible, haughty favourite in the man who was pouring such fervid passionate declarations into the small pearly ear that felt his lips more than once?

Erle Palma had much to tell to the woman of his love, much to explain concerning the events of the day when Elliott Roscoe witnessed her first interview with Peleg Peterson, and subsequently aided in his arrest, but this morning long audience was denied him.

In the midst of his happy whispers a step which he did not hear came down the stairs, a form for whom he had no eyes, stood awhile perplexed, and amazed on the threshold.  Then a very stately figure swept across the marble tiles, and laid a firm hand on Regina’s shoulder.

“My daughter!”

The girl looked up, startled, confused; but the encircling arms would not release her.

“My dear madam, do not take her away.”

Mrs. Laurance did not heed him, her eyes were riveted on her child.