Was it to be so with her? Would his presence haunt her ever and everywhere? With a start she turned from him and glided swiftly to the couch as if seeking protection. Lady Lilian looked at her. "You are tired," she said. "I think I am," said Stella. "Leycester take her away; I will not have her wearied, or she will not come again. You will come again, will you not?" "Yes," said Stella, "I will come again." Lord Leycester stood beside the open door, but Lilian still clung to her hand. "Good-night," she said, and she put up her face. Stella bent and kissed her. "Good-night," she answered, and passed out. They went down the stairs in silence, and reached the fernery; then he stopped short. "Will you not wait a moment here?" he said. Stella shook her head. "It must be late," she said. "A moment only," he said. "Let me feel that I have you to myself for a moment before you go--you have belonged to others until now." "No, no," she said--"I must go." And she moved on; but he put out his hand, and stopped her. "Stella!" She turned, and looked at him most piteously; but he saw only her loveliness before him like a flower. "Stella," he repeated, and he drew her nearer, "I must speak--I must tell you--I love you!" CHAPTER XII. "I love you," he said. Only three words, but only a woman can understand what those three words meant to Stella. She was a girl--a mere child, as Lady Wyndward had said; never, save from her father's lips, had she heard those words before. Even now she scarcely realized their full meaning. She only knew that his hand was upon her arm; that his eyes were fixed on hers with a passionate, pleading entreaty, combined with a masterful power which she felt unable to resist. White and almost breathless she stood, not downcast, for her eyes felt drawn to his, all her maidenly nature roused and excited by this first declaration of a man's love. "Stella, I love you!" he repeated, and his voice sounded like some low, subtle music, which rang through her ears even after the words had died from his lips. Pale and trembling she looked at him, and put her hand to gently force his grasp from her arm. "No, no!" she panted. "But it is 'yes,'" he said, and he took her other hand and held her a close prisoner, looking into the depths of the dark, wondering, troubled eyes. "I love you, Stella." "No," she repeated again, almost inaudibly. "It is impossible!" "Impossible!" he echoed, and a faint smile flitted across the eager face--a smile that seemed to intensify the passion in his eyes. "It seems to me impossible not to love you. Stella, are you angry with me--offended? I have been too sudden, too rude and rough." At his tender pleading her eyes drooped for the first time. Too rough, too rude! He, who seemed to her the type of knightly chivalry and courtesy.