If a wise mother had trained the girl, she would have been less
susceptible; as it was, the notion of a handsome young artist dying for
her was not at all unpleasant. She was seventeen, and had never had a
lover. Other girls had talked about their flirtations; nothing of the
kind had ever occurred to her. True, whenever she went out she could not
help noticing how men's eyes lingered on her face; but that one should
love her--love her so dearly as to die for her, was to her romantic
imagination strange as it was beautiful. Adelaide Lyster could play upon
her feelings and emotions skilfully as she played upon the chords of a
piano.

"I was saying to Allan yesterday how sorry I am that he ever came to
Miss Carleton's. What do you think he said?"

"I cannot tell," replied Miss Arleigh, her beautiful young face flushing
as she spoke.

"He said, ah! that he would rather love you unhappily than be blessed
with the love of a queen; he would rather look upon your face once than
gaze for years on the loveliest of all created women. How he worships
you! Are all men of genius destined to love unhappily, I wonder?"

"Is he so very unhappy?" asked the young lady, sadly.

"Yes; I do not believe he knows what peace or rest is. He never sleeps
or enjoys himself as other people do."

"Why not?" asked the girl, to whom this flattery was most sweet and
pleasant.

"His life is one long thought of you. If you were poor, he would not
mind; there would be some hope of winning you; he would not let any
other barrier than riches stand before him--that is one that honorable
men cannot climb."

"I do not see it," said Miss Arleigh.

"Because you do not know the world. You are so noble in mind yourself,
you do not even understand want of nobility in others. Do you not know
that there are many people who would pretend to love you for the sake of
your fortune?"

"I wish I had no fortune," said the young girl, wistfully. "How shall I
know, Adelaide, when any one loves me for myself?"

"When they are, like Allan, willing to die rather than to own their
love; willing to suffer everything and anything rather than be
suspected of fortune-hunting."

"No one could suspect your brother Allan of that."

"No one who knows him. But, Miss Arleigh, what would your guardian, Lord
Ridsdale, say--what would Miss Carleton say--if Allan went to them, as I
know he wants to do, and asked permission to work for you, to try and
win you? Listen to me--I a