Glancing now and then to the lovely girl opposite him, he saw that she was bored instead of being amused by them. Her indifference piqued him, she aroused his interest, and that was more than any other girl had done--and he had traveled the wide world over, and had seen the beauties of every clime. “I almost believe I have lost my heart to the girl,” he muttered, as he arose from the table, and at Mrs. Bryson’s suggestion, followed her out into the grounds. “Jess, will you show Mr. Dinsmore the rose gardens?” she asked of the girl, adding, “he was very fond of them when he was a child.” Suddenly she asked: “Do you remember gathering roses from a bush when you were stung by a bee?” “I remember the incident well,” he remarked, with a laugh, looking the good woman straight in the eye, as he uttered the glib falsehood unflinchingly, adding: “I believe I could go straight to that very bush now.” “You have a wonderful memory,” declared the good woman, admiringly. She managed to whisper to Jess, as the girl passed her, to be more civil to their guest, and to pretend to take more interest in him for hospitality’s sake, if for nothing else--a remark to which Jess deigned no reply. To tell the truth, she was rebelling in her innermost soul at her restraint in being gowned in a dress in which she could not do as she pleased without getting it ruined. Better a thousand times were she in her brown linsey dress, in which she could climb into her old seat in the apple tree if she liked, or roam over the dew-wet grass, with her dogs for companions, to her heart’s content. Try as she would, she could not forget this handsome young man’s cruelty to his poor horse; how fearfully he had lashed him, every stroke being accompanied by a curse. CHAPTER XV. THE LOVE THAT IS SURE TO COME. “What is love, that all the world Talks so much about it? What is love, that neither you Nor I can do without it?” The hour which followed in the old garden sealed the fate of the false heir--he was hopelessly head over heels in love with the girl whom he had come to Blackheath Hall determined to hate. He was frightened at the vehemence of his mad passion. What if she should not return it and refuse to obey the conditions of the will? “I will not think of such a possibility,” he told himself, setting his handsome, white teeth hard together. He felt that the first thing to be done to get on an amiable footing with her and remove her prejudice--for he felt reasonably sure that she recognized him--was to apologize for his seeming harshness to his horse on that memorable occasion when the girl had encountered him. He got around the point most admirably, in his opinion, when he turned lightly and said to Jess: “I have been trying to think, ever since I beheld you to-day, of whom you remind me. I have it now, your face is very similar to that of a young girl whom I met in this vicinity a few days ago as----”