“In my opinion, no kind-hearted girl ought to desire to be loved except by the one she loves. Else, she must be a very heartless creature, who enjoys the miseries of others,” added she, earnestly. “Now, I want you to know, I am not cruel; I am not heartless; so I do not wish any man (but one) to be in love with me.” “You are right, my dear,” Mrs. Gunther interposed. “But the trouble is, you are too pretty, too sweet, to be let alone; you can’t help being loved.” “Then I am unlucky, that’s all,” she said, with trembling lips, “and the sooner I go home, the better it will be for mutual comfort.” Robert Gunther was talking with Elvira, but he had not lost one word of this conversation. In the evening they went to a Presidential reception. It happened that he was near Mercedes when Elvira proposed to go and see the flowers in the conservatory; he offered her his arm, and they followed Elvira. He had spoken very few words to her since they returned from Newport, but had watched her and feasted his eyes on her loveliness. Now, after walking in silence for some time, he said: “It is a sad sort of consolation to know that you regret inspiring hopeless love. I heard your conversation with the Misses Selden this morning. I thank you for not enjoying my misery.” “Oh! how could I do that? I wish I could make you happy; please forgive me if I have ever caused you pain?” said she in the sweetest of pleading tones. He looked at her sweet face, turned toward his, and his love for her seemed to rush upon him like an overwhelming wave—like a hot flame rising to his brain. “Oh! Mercedes, it is frightful how much I love you! What shall I do to conquer this unfortunate infatuation?” “Forget me; I shall soon be away—far away.” “Oh! darling, I would rather suffer seeing you, than to have your sweet presence withdrawn from my sight. You see my unfortunate situation? I vow it is awful to love so hopelessly! But I shall never talk to you of my love again. I see I pain you,” he added, seeing that she trembled and looked pained. “Forgive me, for I am very wretched. My life will now be a blank.” “I wish you could feel for me, as you do toward Elvira. How I envy her your friendship,” she said, in very low tones. “Do you, truly?” “Indeed I do. I would be so happy.” “I shall try. But how can I, loving you so ardently?” “As a proof of your love, try to be my friend—only a friend.” “You ask of my love a suicide—to kill itself. Be it so. I shall try,” said he with a sad smile. “The request is rather novel, but perhaps it might be done. I doubt it. I suppose you will be my friend then?” “I am that now—most sincerely,” said she, earnestly. On leaving the conservatory, they saw Clarence coming to meet them. He joined Elvira and walked by her side. “Thanks, Mr. Darrell. I am glad you have good sense,” said Gunther, addressing the back and broad shoulders of Clarence from the distance. Mercedes laughed and felt herself regaining her composure.