re
the counters for her game; but, Lesbia, would you, in the bloom and
freshness of youth--you with the pulses of youth throbbing at your
heart--lend yourself to the calculations of age which has lived its life
and forgotten the very meaning of love? Would you submit to be played as
a card in the game of a dowager's ambition? Trust me, dearest, in the
crisis of a woman's life there is one only counsellor she should listen
to, and that counsellor is her own heart. If you love me--as I dare to
hope you do--trust in me, hold by me, and leave the rest to Heaven. I
know that I can make your life happy.'
'You frighten me by your impetuosity,' said Lesbia. 'Surely you forget
how short a time we have known each other.'
'An age. All my life before the day I saw you is a dead, dull blank as
compared with the magical hours I have spent with you.'
'I do not even know who and what you are.'
'First, I am a gentleman, or I should not be your brother's friend. A
poor gentleman, if you like, with only my own right arm to hew my
pathway through the wood of life to the temple of fortune; but trust me,
only trust me, Lesbia, and I will so hew my path as to reach that
temple. Look at me, love. Do I look like a man born to fail?'
She looked up at him shyly, with eyes that were dim with tears. He
looked like a demi-god, tall, straight as the pine trunks amongst which
he was standing, a frame formed for strength and activity, a face
instinct with mental power, dark eyes that glowed with the fire of
intellect and passion. The sunlight gave an almost unearthly radiance to
the clear dark of his complexion, the curly brown hair cut close to the
finely shaped head, the broad brow and boldly modelled features.
Lesbia felt in her heart that such a man must be destined for success,
born to be a conqueror in all strifes, a victor upon every field.
'Have I the thews and sinews of a man doomed to be beaten in the
battle?' he asked her. 'No, dearest; Heaven meant me to succeed; and
with you to fight for I shall not be beaten by adverse fortune. Can you
not trust Providence and me?'
'I cannot disobey my grandmother. If she will consent----'
'She will not consent. You must defy Lady Maulevrier, Lesbia, if you
mean to reward my love. But I will promise you this much, darling, that
if you will be my wife--with your brother's consent--which I am sure of
before I ask for it, within one year of our marriage I will find means
of reconciling her
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