"Ah!" said Stella, with a little glad light in her eyes. "How beautiful and lovable she is!" He nodded. "Yes, and she has fallen in love with you. We are very much alike in our tastes," he said, with a significant smile. "Yes, she thinks _you_ beautiful and lovable." Stella looked down at the ardent face, so handsome in its passionate eagerness. "Did you--did you tell her?" she murmured. He understood what she meant, and shook his head. "No; it was to be a secret--our secret for the present, my darling. I did not tell her." "She would be sorry," said Stella. "They would all be sorry, would they not?" she added, sadly. "Why should you think of that?" he expostulated, gently. "What does it matter? All will come right in the end. They will not be sorry when you are my wife. When is it to be, Stella?" and his voice grew thrillingly soft. Stella started, and a scarlet blush flushed her face. "Ah, no!" she said, almost pantingly, "not for very, very long--perhaps never!" "It must be very soon," he murmured, putting his arm around her. "I could not wait long! I could not endure existence if we should chance to be parted. Stella, I never knew what love meant until now! If you knew how I have waited for this meeting of ours, how the weary hours have hung with leaden weight upon my hands, how miserably dull the day seemed, you would understand." "Perhaps I do," she said softly, and the dark eyes dwelt upon his musingly as she recalled her own listlessness and impatience. "Then you must think as I do!" he said, quick to take advantage. "Say you do, Stella! Think how very happy we should be." She did think, and the thought made her tremble with excess of joy. "We two together in the world! Where we would go and what we would do! We could go to all the beautiful places--your own Italy, Switzerland! and always together--think of it." "I am thinking," she said with a smile. He drew closer and put her arm around his neck. The very innocence and purity of her love inflamed his passion and enhanced her charms in his sight. He had been loved before, but never like this, with such perfect, unquestioning love. "Well, then, my darling, why should we wait? It must be soon, Stella." "No, no," she said, faintly. "Why should it? I--I am very happy." "What is it you dread? Is it so dreadful the thought that we should be alone together--all in all to each other?" "It is not that," said Stella, her eyes fixed on the line of light that fell on the water from the rising moon. "It is not that. I am thinking of others." "Always of others!" he said, with tender reproach. "Think of me--of ourselves." "I wish----" she said. "Wish," he coaxed her. "See if I cannot gratify it. I will, if it be possible." "It is not possible," she said. "I was going to say that I wish you were not--what you are." "You said something like that last night," he said. "Darling, I have wished it often. You wish that I were plain Mr. Brown."