range name on his
lips, and he thought it must have wandered from some sunny southern
clime into these northern solitudes. His eyes shone; his heart beat.
He said to it: "Make room for this innocent little one! What a darling
she is! How clear, how candid, how beautiful! Oh, to be loved by such
a woman! Oh, to kiss her!--to feel her kiss me!" He set his mouth
tightly; the soft dreamy look in his face changed to one of purpose
and pleasure.

"I shall win her, or die for it," he said. "By Saint George! I would
rather die than know that any other man had married her."

Yet the thought of marriage somewhat sobered him. "I should have to
give up my voyage to the Spanish Colonies,--and I am very much
interested in their struggle. I could not take her to Mexico, I
suppose,--there is nothing but fighting there; and I could not--no, I
could not leave her. If she were mine, I should hate to have any one
else breathe the same air with her. I could not endure that others
should speak to her. I should want to strike any man who touched her
hand. Perhaps I had better go away in the morning, and ride this road
no more. I have made my plans."

And fate had made other plans. Who can fight against his destiny? When
he saw Aspatria in the morning, every plan that did not include her
seemed unworthy of his consideration. She was ten times lovelier in
the daylight. She had that fresh invincible charm which women of
culture and intellect seldom have: she was inspired by her heart. It
taught her a thousand delightful subjugating ways. She served his
breakfast with her own fair hands; she offered him the first sweet
flowers in the garden; she fluttered around his necessities, his
desires, his intentions, with a grace and a kindness nothing but love
could have taught her.

He thanked her with marvellous glances, with smiles, with single words
dropped only for her ears, with all the potent eloquence which passion
and experience teach. And he had to pay the price, as all men must do.
The lesson he taught he also learned. "Aspatria!" he said, in soft,
penetrating accents; and when she answered his call and came to his
side, her dress trailing across his feet bewitched him. They were in
the garden, and he clasped her hand, and went down the budding alleys
with her, speechless, but gazing into her face until she dropped her
tremulous, transparent lids before her eyes; they were too full of
light and love to show to any mortal.

The sky was wh