t laugh.

"I am afraid that in this case, persuasion, argument, and reason would
be in vain. Lance, take Lady Marion to see the lamps in the almond
trees--they are really very fine."

He took the soft, silken wrapper from her and wrapped it round her
shoulders.

"Let us go and see the lamps," he said, and they went.

Ah, well. The sky above was filled with pale, pure stars; the
almond-trees filled the air with delicate perfume; the nightingales were
singing in the distant trees; great floods of silver moonlight fell over
the grounds, in which the lilies gleamed palely white, and the roses
hung their heavy heads.

They went together to the grove where the lamps shone bright as huge
pearls. The path was a narrow one and he drew the white hand through his
arm. How did it come about? Ah, who shall tell? Perhaps the wind
whispered it, perhaps the nightingales sung about it, perhaps something
in the great white lily leaves suggested it, perhaps the pale, pure
stars looked disapproval; but it happened that the white hand felt the
arm, and was clasped in a warm, strong hand--a clasp such as only love
gives.

Who shall say how it happened? She raised her fair face to his in the
soft, pure moonlight, and said to him:

"Must you really go back to England, Lord Chandos?"

The voice was sweet as music--the face, so fair, so pure, so proud.

"Must you," she added, "really go?"

"Yes, I am compelled to return," he answered slowly.

"Need it be yet?" she said. "I know you must go, but the journey through
Spain will be so pleasant, and we might make a compromise. I will
shorten the journey if you will delay your return."

And before he left the almond grove Lord Chandos had promised to do so,
and as he made the promise he bent down and kissed the white hand lying
in his.

CHAPTER XXIX.

WAITING FOR HIM.

Never had June seen such roses, never had lilies opened such white
chalices, never had the trees looked so green, or the grass so long and
thick, never had the birds sung as they sung this June, never had the
light of the sun been so golden bright. The smile of the beautiful
summer lay over the land, but in no place was it so fair as in River
View. It was a scene like fairyland.

So Leone thought it as she watched day by day the beauty of blossom and
leaf. It was in the month of May she first began to watch the signs of
coming summer; with the first breath of the hawthorn, her heart grew
light and a new bea