“I thought perhaps Mr. Tressalia would win you, Editha, at one time, and such _was_ the report,” Earle said, wondering if she had read of that gentleman’s succession to a marquisate and great possessions. But she knew nothing of it as yet, and only nestled nearer to him as she returned: “Did you hear of that, Earle, and did you believe it?” “I cannot say that I _really_ believed it, for I cherished a little hope myself all the time; and yet I do not know but that it is a wonder he did not carry off my treasure after all,” he returned, as he folded her closer. “No, it is not a wonder; if there had been no _Earle Wayne_ in existence, I _might have_ learned to love _him_, but there _was_ an Earle Wayne in the world, consequently it was an impossibility,” Editha answered, with a twinkling little smile in her deep blue eyes. Earle bent and touched her red lips with fond thanks for the sweet words they had uttered; but there was an expression of thoughtfulness mingled with anxiety on his brow. “Mr. Tressalia is a noble man, if he is all you represent him, and it is a sad thing to have all his hopes blighted thus,” he said, in tones of regret. “Yes; I cannot tell you how sorry I was for him, and I hope I may never see such a look on another face as long as I live as I saw on his when I left him that night,” Editha replied, her eyes filling with tears at the remembrance. “Editha,” Earle said, suddenly, after a short silence, “_you_ do not believe that I care for your fortune—that I give it even a thought?” “My sensitive Earle, no,” she answered, with a skeptical smile. “Then I am going to propose a bold measure. I dread—I almost fear to go away and leave you. I know you will be unhappy with your father’s displeasure constantly following you, and I have a strange presentiment—something tells me that I must not leave you behind. Editha will you marry me and go with me to Europe to-morrow as my wife?” “Earle!” She started from his unfolding arms, sitting suddenly erect, her face as white as a snow-flake at the proposition. “Does the idea startle you so, my own? It is so sudden, I know; but would it not be best for our mutual happiness?” “And papa—would be left behind entirely alone,” she said, thoughtfully. “Only for a short time, dearest. I shall return as soon as I can arrange my business there to do so, even if I have to go back afterward. Perhaps by that time Mr. Dalton will look at matters in a different light from what he does now,” Earle urged. Editha heaved a long sigh that meant a good many things. “Earle, I would like it _so_ much,” she said, sorrowfully, after a long and thoughtful pause, “both the going to Europe, where I have always longed to go, and—being your wife; but——” His arms clasped her more tightly at that word of doubt. “Must there be a ‘but?’” he whispered.