man who had told her more than
once that he loved her better than his own life!

She did not cry out, or rise from her hard seat, but sat still, looking
at him in mournful quietness. What was he, what could he ever be, to
her? A nobleman of the realm, and the Olympia's daughter!

He came down the bank and seated himself by her side.

"Caroline, have you no welcome to give me?"

She looked at him with a gleam of excitement in the sadness of her eyes.

"You know who I am, and I, alas! know that you are Lord Hilton," she
said, with a touch of pathetic pride. "How can I welcome you?"

"Have you, then, ceased to love me, Caroline?"

Her pale face flushed, her eyes kindled.

"Is this a question to ask me?"

"Yes--because I have never ceased to love you, and never shall."

"Not when you are certain that I am the daughter of--of--an actress?"

"Not if you were the daughter of fifty actresses, Caroline! I have been
searching for you, in London, everywhere. More than once I inquired at
Olympia's door."

"You!"

"Indeed I did; but she would give me no information."

"She could not. I left no word."

"And now that I have found you, Caroline?"

"My name is Brown, Lord Hilton. I am, in truth, the daughter of that
good man whom you supposed my father."

"And of Olympia?"

"Yes, they were married and--and divorced before she became celebrated
and took the name of Olympia."

Caroline said all this with a feeling of self-torture that took all the
color from her face. The love of Lord Hilton seemed an impossibility to
her, and she gave him the hard truth, under which her heart was
writhing, without a reservation of pride or delicacy.

"It is of very little consequence whose daughter you are," said the
young man, tenderly, "so long as I love you, and am, with God's
blessing, resolved to make you my wife."

"Resolved to make me your wife!"

The words came one by one from her lips, in measured sadness. She knew
the thing to be impossible, and uttered the words as if she had buried
some beloved object, and was mourning over it.

"I repeat it, Caroline. There is no change in my love--no change in my
determination. All that I felt for you in our sweet Italian life lives
with me yet."

Caroline turned her eyes full upon him. An expression of pain broke
through their mournfulness.

"It was impossible!"

That was all she said; but he knew how much agony the words had cost by
the whiteness of her lips.

"But why