To Lucy, the delight of these excursions was a single ineffable pleasure. She knew that this bright, brief existence in _his_ company was to occur once in her life, and once only. Again and again she told herself this; but she could not help being dangerously happy. The river, the sunshine, the landscape, the perfumed air that crept over banks of wild-thyme,--for, thank Heaven, in spite of the builder, the wild-thyme does still blow on banks we know, not twenty miles from London,--all these things of themselves would have made her happy; but to these things Laurence Desmond’s presence, his low, kind voice, his ever-thoughtful care, lent a new sweetness. In plain truth, this penniless orphan-girl had most innocently and unconsciously fallen in love--or learned to love the man who had befriended her. Of that kindly, compassionate assistance which Mr. Desmond had given in all singleness of heart, _this_ was the fatal fruit. From the first he had felt a vague consciousness that danger might lurk in this association; but the full extent of that peril he had never foreseen. It was danger to himself he had dreaded. The girl’s helplessness had touched him, her gratitude had melted him, her pretty, innocent, almost reverential looks and tones had flattered him. He knew now that the hazard of his own feelings had been less than the peril of hers. By signs and tokens, too subtle and too delicate for translation into words, the fatal secret had been revealed to him. He knew that he was beloved; that this affectionate, innocent heart was his; that this fresh young life might be taken into his keeping to-morrow, to brighten and bless his own until the end of his earthly pilgrimage. Yes; this dear little creature, with her soft, winning ways, and dove-like eyes, he might have claimed for his wife to-morrow: if he had been free. But on him there was a tie more binding than marriage, a chain that no divorce could break--the bondage of his honour. As Lancelot sadly bade farewell to the lily maid of Astolat, so Laurence, in the silence of his heart, put away from him the dream and the hope that he would fain have cherished.