“No.  She knows the whole story from beginning to end.  If she has told you, you know all.”

“Certainly I do; and, knowing all, I have come here to beg you to make me happy, to honor me with your love, to be my Wife.  Ah, Madaline, do not let your pride part us!”

He saw that she trembled and hesitated.

“Only imagine what life must be for us, Madaline, if we part.  You would perhaps go on living with the duchess all your life—­for, in spite of your coyness and your fear, I believe you love me so well, darling, that, unless you marry me, you will marry no one—­you would drag on a weary, tried, sad, unhappy existence, that would not have in it one gleam of comfort.”

“It is true,” she said, slowly.

“Of course it is true.  And what would become of me?  The sun would have no more brightness for me; the world would be as a desert; the light would die from my life.  Oh, Madaline, make me happy by loving me!”

“I do love you,” she said, unguardedly.

“Then why not be my wife?”

She drew back trembling, her face pale as death.

“Why not be my wife?” he repeated.

“It is for your own sake,” she said.  “Can you not see?  Do you not understand?”

“For my sake.  Then I shall treat you as a vanquished kingdom—­I shall take possession of you, my darling, my love!”

Bending down, he kissed her face—­and this time she made no resistance to his sovereign will.

“Now,” said Lord Arleigh, triumphantly, “you are my very own, nothing can separate us—­that kiss seals our betrothal; you must forget all doubts, all fears, all hesitation, and only say to yourself that you are mine—­all mine.  Will you be happy, Madaline?”

She raised her eyes to his, her face bedewed with happy tears.

“I should be most ungrateful if I were not happy,” she replied; “you are so good to me, Lord Arleigh.”

“You must not call me ’Lord Arleigh’—­say ‘Norman.’”

“Norman,” she repeated, “you are so good to me.”

“I love you so well, sweet,” he returned.

The happy eyes were raised to his face.

“Will you tell me,” she asked, “why you love me, Norman?  I cannot think why it is.  I wonder about it every day.  You see girls a thousand times better suited to you than I am.  Why do you love me so?”

“What a question to answer, sweet!  How can I tell why I love you?  I cannot help it; my soul is attracted to your soul, my heart to your heart, Madaline.  I shall be unwilling to leave you again; when I go away from Verdun Royal, I shall want to take my wife with me.”

She looked at him in alarm.

“I am quite serious,” he continued.  “You are so sensitive, so full of hesitation, that, if I leave you, you will come to the conclusion that you have done wrong, and will write me a pathetic little letter, and go away.”

“No, I shall not do that,” she observed.