h a
theory? Rather try to believe that what is stolen is sweet."

She smiled, but the anxious expression still lingered on her lovely
young face. He noticed it.

"As a rule, Marion, you are quite right. Concealments are odious. But
there are exceptions--this is one--I love you; but I am only a poor
artist, struggling to make a name. You, sweet, are rich and beautiful.
From your high estate you smile upon me as a queen might smile on a
subject. You are a true heroine. You are content 'to lose the world for
love.'"

"I am content," said the girl, with a little sigh of supreme happiness;
"but I wish it were all open and straightforward. I wish you would go to
my guardian and tell him you love me. Then tell Miss Carleton. Indeed,
she would not be angry."

"Do you know what would happen if I did as you advise, Marion?" he
asked.

"Nothing would happen," she replied; "and they would be pleased to see
me happy."

"You have to learn some of the world's lessons yet," he said. "If I were
to go to Lord Ridsdale and say to him, 'My Lord, I love your ward and
she loves me,' do you know what he would do?"

"No," she replied, slowly.

"He would send for you at once, and take such measures as would prevent
me from ever seeing you again. If I were to tell him, Marion, we should
be parted forever. Could you bear that, darling?"

"No," she replied, "I could not, Allan. If you think so, we--we will
keep our secret a little longer."

"Thank you," he said, gratefully, kissing the little white hand clasped
in his. "I knew you would not be cruel, Marion. You are so heroic and
grand--so unlike other girls; you would not darken my solitary life for
an absurd scruple--you would not refuse to see me, when the sight of you
is the only sunbeam that cheers my life."

The beautiful face brightened at his words.

"You will write to me, Marion--and, darling, my heart lives on your
words--they are ever present with me. When I read one of your letters it
seems to me your voice is whispering, and that whisper makes the only
music that cheers my day. Tell me in your letters once, and once again,
that you will be my wife, that you will love me, and never care for any
one else."

"I have told you so," she said; "but if the words please you, I will
tell you over and over again, as you say. You know I love you, Allan."

"I know you are an angel!" cried the young man. "In all the wide world
there is none like you."

Then he clasped the littl