The Earl of Mountdean and Lord Arleigh were walking up a steep hill one day together, when the former feeling tired, they both sat down among the heather to rest.

There was a warm sun shining, a pleasant wind blowing, and the purple heather seemed literally to dance around them.
They remained for some time in silence; it was the earl who broke it by saying: "How beautiful the heather is! And here indeed on this hill-top is solitude! We might fancy ourselves quite alone in the world.

By the way, you have never told me, Arleigh, what it is that makes you so fond of solitude." "I have had a great trouble," he replied, briefly.
"A trouble! But one suffers a great deal before losing all interest in life.

You are so young, you cannot have suffered much." "I know no other life so utterly helpless as my own." The earl looked at him thoughtfully.
"I should like to know what your trouble is ?" he said gently.
"I can tell you only one half of it," was the reply.

"I fell in love with one of the sweetest, fairest, purest of girls.