They had left the pretty drawing-room, with its cool shade and rich fragrance, and Lord Arleigh stood holding his wife's hand in his.
"You can really forgive me, Madaline ?" he said.

"You owe me no ill-will for all that I have made you suffer ?" She smiled as she looked at him.
"No," she replied.

"How could there be ill-will between you and me?
You did right--in your place I should have acted as you did." He caressed the fair, sweet face.
"Thank you, my darling," he said.

"How thin you are!" he added.

"How you have worn yourself away with fretting! What must I do to bring the roses back to this sweet face, and the light that I remember so well to the dear eyes ?" She looked up at him, her whole soul in her eyes.
"You have but one thing to do, and that is--love me," she said; "and then I shall be the happiest wife in all the world.