Silently she clung to him, yielding more and more to the sensation of exquisite joy that poured through her whole being like sunlight—­her heart beat with new and keener life,—­the warm kindling blood burned her cheeks like the breath of a hot wind—­ and her whole soul rose to meet and greet what she in her poor credulousness welcomed as the crown and glory of existence—­love!  Love was hers, she thought—­at last!—­she knew the great secret,—­ the long delight that death itself could not destroy,—­her ideal of romance was realised, and Amadis de Jocelyn, the brave, the true, the chivalrous, the strong, was her very own!  Enchanted with the ease of his conquest, he played with her pretty hair as with a bird’s wing, and held her against his heart, sensuously gratified to feel her soft breast heaving with its pent-up emotion, and to hear her murmured words of love confessed.

“How I have wished and prayed that you might love me!” she said, raising her dewy eyes to his in the darkness.  “Is it good when God grants one’s prayers?  I am almost afraid!  My Amadis!  It is a dream come true!”

He was amused at her fidelity to the romance which surrounded his name.

“Dear child, I am not a ’knight of old’—­don’t think it!” he said.  “You mustn’t run away with that idea and make me a kind of sixteenth-century sentimentalist.  I couldn’t live up to it!”

“You are more than a knight of old,” she answered, proudly—­“You are a great genius!”

He was embarrassed by her simple praise.

“No,” he answered—­“Not even that—­sweet soul as you are!—­not even that!  You think I am—­but you do not know.  You are a clever, imaginative little girl—­and I love to hear you praise me—­but—­”

Her lips touched his shyly and sweetly.

“No ‘buts!’” she said,—­“I shall always stop your mouth if you put a ‘but’ against any work you do!”

“In that way?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes!  In that way.”

“Then I shall put a ‘but’ to everything!” he declared.

They laughed together like children.

“Where is Miss Leigh all this while?” he queried.

She started, awaking suddenly to conventions and commonplaces.

“Poor little godmother!  She must be wondering where I am!  But I did not leave her,—­she left me when the Duke took charge of me—­I lost sight of her then.”

“Well, we must go and find her now”—­and Jocelyn again folded his arms closely round the dainty, elf-like figure in its moonlight-blue draperies.  “Innocent, look at me!”

She lifted her eyes, and as she met his, glowing with the fervent fire of a new passion, her cheeks grew hot and she was thankful for the darkness.  His lips closed on hers in a long kiss.

“This is our secret!” he said—­“You must not speak of it to anyone.”

“How could I speak of it?” she asked, wonderingly.

He let her go from his embrace, and taking her hand began to walk slowly with her towards the house.