Her first impulse was to run forward and look upon the face of the speaker; but she restrained herself, or rather was restrained by the conflicting passions which agitated her breast; and without removing her eyes from the forms of the two persons before her, she followed them with feeble uncertain steps. For the woman's strength was going from her; she was wearied and exhausted, and she had to struggle now with nature. It was fortunate for her that the man and the woman she was following were walking slowly, or she must inevitably have lost them. And even as it was, she dragged her weary feet after them, as one in a dream might have done. The woman was young; joyous health and spirits proclaimed themselves in the light springy step; and the musical laugh that rang frequently in the air was like the sound of silver bells. That she was beautiful could not be doubted: it was the theme of their conversation at the present moment. "And you think me very beautiful?" "You are more than beautiful. You are the most lovely girl in the world. But if I continue to tell you the same story, I shall make you the vainest as well as the loveliest." "Oh, no; I like to hear you. Go on." "Then there's another danger. Though you know I love you----" "Yes." "And though you have told me you love me----" "Yes." "You do, you little witch?" "Oh, yes." "Well, there's the danger of losing you." "In what way? How?" "Some one else might see you, and fall in love with you." "Suppose some one else couldn't help it? This with a delicious silvery laugh. "By heavens, you're enough to drive a saint out of his senses!" "Me?" "Well, your cool way of saying things." "But go on about the danger of losing me." "And _you_ might fall in love with some one else." "I don't think so," said the girl, with the air of one who was considering a problem which did not affect her. "I couldn't fall in love with any man that wasn't a gentleman. And you are one?" "I hope so." "That is why I like you. You are a gentleman, you are good-looking and rich; while I----" "You!" It was scarcely an interruption, for the girl paused, as in curious contemplation of what might follow. "You! You are fit to be a queen." "I _am_ a duchess, remember," said the girl, with an arch smile, which became graver with the words--"I wonder why they called me so?" "Because they saw you were above them, and better than they." "Why should they have seen that? What made them see it? I could hardly speak at the time, and I don't even remember it." "Nor anything about yourself before you were brought to Rosemary Lane?" inquired the man anxiously. "No; nothing that does not seem like a dream." "One can remember dreams." "I can't remember mine. But sometimes I have a curious impression upon me." "May I hear it?" "Why not? It is upon me now. It is this: that when I dreamt--before I remember anything, you know----" "Yes." "That it was always snowing, as it is now."