"I suppose that now, for the last time, I may speak truly--as a man should speak. Lady Harcourt, I have never ceased to love you, never for one moment; never since that day when we walked together among those strange tombs. My love for you has been the dream of my life." "But, why--why--why?--" She could not speak further, for her voice was choked with tears. "I know what you would say. Why was I so stern to you!" "Why did you go away? Why did you not come to us?" "Because you distrusted me; not as your lover, but as a man. But I did not come here to blame you, Caroline." "Nor to be blamed." "No, nor to be blamed. What good can come of reproaches? We now know each other's faults, if we never did before. And we know also each other's truth--" He paused a moment, and then added, "For, Caroline, your heart has been true." She sat herself down upon a chair, and wept, with her face hidden within her hands. Yes, her heart had been true enough; if only her words, her deeds, her mind could have been true also. He came up to her, and lightly put his hand upon her shoulder. His touch was very light, but yet she felt that there was love in it--illicit, dishonest love. There was treason in it to her lord's rights. Her lord! Yes, he was her lord, and it was treason. But it was very sweet that touch; it was as though a thrill of love passed across her and embraced her whole body. Treason to such a creature as that! a brute with a face of brass and feet of clay, who had got hold of her with a false idea that by her aid he could turn his base brass into gold as base! Could there be treason to such a one as he? Ah! what would the world say of her were she to share that flight? "Caroline," he murmured in her ear. "Caroline; dearest Caroline!" Thus he murmured soft words into her ear, while his hand still rested gently on her shoulder--oh, so gently! And still she answered nothing, but the gurgling of her sobs was audible to him enough. "Caroline," he repeated; "dearest, dearest Caroline." And then he was on his knees beside her; and the hand which had touched her shoulder was now pressed upon her arm. "Caroline, speak to me--say one word. I will go if you bid me. Yes, even alone. I will go alone if you have the heart to say so. Speak, Caroline." "What would you have me say?" and she looked at him through her tears, so haggard, so wild, so changed, that he was almost frightened at her countenance. "What would you have me say? what would you have me do?" "I will be your slave if you will let me," said he. "No, George--you mean that I might be your slave--for awhile, till you thought me too base even for that." "Ah! you little know me."