"Then I grew to be a youth, and then to be a man," he continued. "I looked everywhere for my ideal among all the fair women I knew. I looked in courts and palaces, I looked in country houses, but I could not find her. I looked at home and abroad, I looked at all times and all seasons, but I could not find her." He saw a shadow come over the sweet, pure face as though she felt sorry for him. "So time passed, and I began to think that I should never find my ideal, that I must give her up, when one day, quite unexpectedly, I saw her." There was a gleam of sympathy in the blue eyes. "I found her at last," he continued. "It was one bright June morning; she was sitting out among the roses, ten thousand times fairer and sweeter than they." She looked at him with a startled glance; not the faintest idea had occurred to her that he was speaking of her. "Do you understand me?" he asked. "I--I am frightened, Lord Arleigh." "Nay, why should you fear? What is there to fear? It is true. The moment I saw you sitting here I knew that you were my ideal, found at last." "But," she said, with the simple wonder of a child. "I am not like the portrait you sketched." "You are unlike it only because you are a hundred times fairer," he replied; "that is why I inquired about you--why I asked so many questions. It was because you were to me a dream realized. So it came about that I heard your true history. Now will you be my friend?" "If you still wish it, Lord Arleigh, yes; but, if you repent of having asked me, and should ever feel ashamed of our friendship, remember that I shall not reproach you for giving me up." "Giving you up?" cried Lord Arleigh. "Ah, Madaline--let me call you Madaline, the name is so sweet--I shall never give you up! When a man has been for many years looking for some one to fill his highest and brightest dreams, he knows how to appreciate that some one when found." "It seems all so strange," she said, musingly. "Nay, why strange? You have read that sweetest and saddest of all love stories--'Romeo and Juliet?' Did _Juliet_ think it strange that, so soon after seeing her, _Romeo_ should be willing to give his life for her?" "No, it did not seem strange to them," she replied, with a smile; "but it is different with us. This is the nineteenth century, and there are no _Juliets_." "There are plenty of _Romeos_, though," he remarked, laughingly. "The sweetest dreams in my life are the briefest. Will you pluck one of those roses for me and give it to me, saying, 'I promise to be your friend?'" "You make me do things against my will," she said; but she plucked a rose, and held it toward him in her hand. "I promise to be your friend," she said, gently. Lord Arleigh kissed the rose. As he did so their eyes met; and it would have been hard to tell which blushed the more deeply. After that, meetings between them became more frequent. Lord Arleigh made seeing her the one great study of his life--and the result was what might be imagined.