"Shall we go to that shady spot in the woods?" he asked; "I can talk to you more easily there." They walked on together, she listening to his honeyed compliments, his whispered words, hardly able to decide in her own mind, which was the braver wooer, the poet or the lord. Then they reached the pretty bank where the wild thyme grew. Lord Vivianne seated himself by her side in silence, then, after a few minutes, he said: "I have so much to say to you I hardly know where to begin. I am not quite sure of my ground with you yet; I may offend you so seriously that you will, perhaps, order me from your presence, and never speak to me again." She thought of the diamond ring. "It is not very probable," she said. "I am what is called a man of the world," continued Lord Vivianne. "I make no great pretensions to principle, but I can honestly say I have never deceived any one. I always start with a clear and straightforward understanding." "I think it is the best, decidedly," she said. Then he took her hands in his, and with his eyes fixed on her face, he continued: "I love you; I think you are the fairest and most lovely girl I have ever seen. I think also that, with your keen capacity for enjoyment, it is a sad thing that your life should be wasted here; I think that your beauty and your grace should make you one of the queens of the world--you ought indeed to be out in the world--it is cruel to keep you here, as it would be to bury a brilliant gem in a dark well." Then he paused, studying intently the expression on the downcast face. "I love you," he said. "I should like to be the one to show you the bright, brilliant world. If you honor me with your love, I can give you wealth in abundance, magnificence, such as would gladden the heart of a queen. I will make you the envy of every woman who sees you; you shall hang jewels at each ear that are worth a king's ransom; you shall have servants to wait upon you; you shall have carriages, horses, anything that your heart can desire. You shall not be able to form one wish which shall not be gratified. Doris--dear Doris--can you trust me? Will you go with me--will you be mine?" The life he had pictured to her was exactly that for which she longed, and the words of her lover delighted her. Yet, as she reflected, there shone from out the glorious vista of the future the face of trusting Earle--the man she was about to betray. "It will break Earle's heart," she said, slowly. Lord Vivianne laughed aloud. "Not at all," he said. "These country lovers do not die of broken hearts; he may feel very angry at first, but he will forget you in a few weeks, and fall in love, all over again, with some rosy-faced milkmaid." "He will never forget me," said Doris; "and his despair will be terrible." She shuddered a little as though some bleak, cold wind were blowing over her, then she said: "If he knew I had betrayed him, and he found me, he would kill me." Again Lord Vivianne laughed.