he looked at the roses in her waving golden hair) ; “would 
you change them for these ” (and he touched one of the 
orange-flowers)—“for my sake—for me?” 
I shall never forget that beseeching voice. It thrilled 
me through with the anxiety which it expressed, and I 
leaned forward to hear the answer: “I—I—I believe 
that I am engaged to the viscount.” Then for a few 
awful seconds there might have been in that conserva¬ 
tory no living soul, for there was no sound save of dis¬ 
tant music, faintly heard from the ball. At last he 
spoke with a great effort: “I have no right to ask you ; 
but do you love him?” and she, in a tone which cut 
my heart like a knife, replied, “ My father, the duke, 
wishes me to marry him.” “ Not,” he said passionately, 
“if you do not love him!” and then there was another 
dreadful silence, broken by these hopeless, whispered 
words, “I cannot, I dare not, disobey the duke. Some 
one is coming ; we must go.” 
I do not think that the guardsman knew quite what 
he was doing, but what he aid do was this: he pluck¬ 
ed a leaf from the orange tree, and gave it to her, and 
said, “ If ever there is hope for me, or I can help you, 
send me this leaf.” 
