not find it in her heart to oppose her
stepmother, whose sad, heavy eyes touched her sympathy; but it was
pleasant to tyrannize over a man so much older than herself, whom love
had made her slave.

With him quarreling was delicious, and she was in no haste to cut her
enjoyment short. But even the pleasure of tormenting one's lover has its
reaction; so one day, as the sun went down, pouring a flood of crimson
into the bosom of that old cedar of Lebanon, Clara relented a little,
and allowed Hepworth to kiss her hand. It was impossible to hold out
longer, with all the leaves quivering in that soft air, and the little
birds hiding away among them, chirping to each other, and setting a
sweet example to the lovers.

Of course an ardent man, very much in love, is not likely to rest
content with the touch of his lady-love's hand after he has been kept
in quarantine four or five days. Hepworth was ardent, and desperately in
love; so he took advantage of her soft relenting, and drew her close to
his side, laid her head against his heart, and, with his cheek touching
the thick waves of her hair, began to talk of the future, when they
would be all in all to each other.

Clara shut her eyes, and allowed her head to rest so close to her
lover's heart that it rose and fell with its strong beating. She loved
the music of that full, warm pulse, and a smile parted her lips as she
listened.

Thus they rested awhile in silence, she, carried into a dreamy elysium
by the swell of those full heart-beats; he, calmed by the stir of the
cedar-leaves, looking into her face, and wondering, in the humility of
true affection, how that bright young creature had ever been won to love
him. He bent his head down softly, and kissed the blue veins on her
temple.

"Are you sure, very, very sure, that you love me, Clara?"

She reached up one arm, wound it about his neck, laid her cheek against
his, and whispered:

"Don't you think so?"

"Lady Clara! Mr. Hepworth Closs!"

It was a man's voice, stern and clear as the clash of bells. Both the
lover and the girl sprang to their feet.

"Father!"

"Lord Hope!"

For a moment the two men stood face to face. They had changed since
their last parting; still that was but dimly seen in the light of a
young moon, which was rising over the trees as the rich crimson faded
away.

Hepworth saw that all the wild passion of those times had died out of
that face, leaving it calm and hard; but other change wa