I have many thoughts that I could never express." "If I could only be sure that you would understand me, Miss Charteris," said Ronald--"that you would see and comprehend the motives that I can hardly explain myself! Sitting here in the summer sunshine, I can scarcely realize how dark the cloud is that hangs over me.

You are so kind and patient, I will tell you my story in my own way." She gathered a rich cluster of bluebells, and bent over them, pulling the pretty flowers into pieces, and throwing leaf after leaf into the stream.
"Three months since," continued Ronald, "I came home to Earlescourt.
Lord and Lady Earle were both at Greenoke; I, and not quite myself, preferred remaining here alone and quiet.

One morning I went out into the garden, listless for want of something to do.

I saw there--ah! Now I want words, Miss Charteris--the fairest girl the sun ever shone upon." He saw the flowers fall from Valentine's grasp; she put her hand to her brow, as though to shield her face.
"Does the light annoy you ?" he asked.
"No," she replied, steadily; "go on with your story." "A clever man," said Ronald, "might paint for you the pretty face, all smiles and dimples, the dark shining rings of hair that fell upon a white brow, the sweet, shy eyes fringed by long lashes, seldom raised, but full of wonderful light when once you could look into their depths.
I can only tell you how in a few days I grew to love the fair young face, and how Dora Thorne that was her name, Miss Charteris--loved me." Valentine never moved nor spoke; Ronald could see the bright flush die away, and the proud lips quiver.
"I must tell you all quickly," said Ronald.

"She is not what people call a lady, this beautiful wild flower of mine.