It was in a shady, flowery alcove, that must have been designed especially for lovers, that Lord Clive was sitting with Azalia Brooke, and by one of the strangest of chances Laurie Meredith was close by, unseen and unheard, yet within ear-shot of their talk.

It could not have been very pleasant to him to listen to Azalia's lover pleading his cause with the lovely girl, yet that was what Jewel's betrothed was forced to hear as he lingered there unable to get away without attracting their notice.

"I feared you would be angry if I followed you to America, yet I could not help it," Lord Clive said, plaintively, presently, and Azalia's voice answered gravely:

"It seemed very useless. We should have been back in England in a few months."

"A few months—an eternity!" exclaimed the earl. "Ah, how coldly you can speak of being away from me, while I was devoured by the pangs of jealousy lest some handsome American should win you from me."

"That is all nonsense!" said Azalia Brooke, quite haughtily; and Laurie Meredith sighed heavily, and thought that he had judged rightly. She was proud of her ancient name, and scorned the Americans who could point to no long line of ancestry.

"I am glad you think it is all nonsense, but you can't think how I have been hating these fellows over here, Miss Brooke. I had to come. And now that I'm here you won't send me away again as you did in London, will you? Oh, Azalia—"

Passionate words followed, words of love and entreaty. Lord Clive could be quite eloquent on the subject which occupied his heart, and there was one but a few feet away who envied him the privilege of wooing sweet Azalia Brooke, one who was almost maddened by jealous pain.

He listened intently for the girl's answer. It came low and sadly:

"I hoped you had given up all hope of me!"

"Never!" declared Lord Clive.

"I told you last winter that it was useless—I have no love to give you," said the sweet, musical voice, very gently.

"I will teach you to love me if you will only give me an opportunity!" protested Lord Clive.

The girl laughed, but the laugh had a mocking sound, so did her voice as she exclaimed:

"Suppose I tell you that I was once taught that lesson by another? Will you give over talking to me then of what could never be?"

"Azalia—Miss Brooke!"

"It is true," she answered, in a bitter tone.

"You love another!" he exclaimed, despairingly.

"Nay, nay; I loved once! Put it in the past tense, please!" she interrupted; and even where he sat, Laurie Meredith could hear the deep sigh that heaved her breast as she added, in a voice of passionate self-scorn: "I should hate myself could I love him still, false and fickle as he proved to be!"

Lord Clive stared at her in the most profound amazement, startled by her unwonted emotion, but the agitated voice went on:

"Yes, look at me in wonder. You have thought me cold and heartless because I turned a deaf ear to lovers. It is due to you that I confess the truth. I have no heart to give, because it was wiled from me long ago by one who valued it but for a little while, then flung it carelessly away!"

"Impossible!" he exclaimed, in the greatest wonder.

"It is true," she answered; and the pathos of her voice went to Laurie Meredith's heart.

"It was when you were an American girl?" asked Lord Clive.

"Yes, before Lord Ivon sent Mr. Kelso to seek me," said Azalia Brooke. "And now you know why I despise love and lovers, Lord Clive. I have no faith in their protestations, because I know how to rate them."

"You do injustice to honest lovers for the sake of one traitor," he said, warmly. "Miss Brooke, he deserves death at the stake. Tell me his name that I may call him out and shoot him!"

A dreary, mocking laugh rippled over her lips as she answered, simply:

"Perhaps he is past your vengeance, Lord Clive. I heard long ago that he was dead."

"It is some comfort to know that he has gone to his reward," murmured Lord Clive, with grim satisfaction.

He looked a moment curiously at her agitated face, then said:

"I thank you for giving me your confidence, Miss Brooke. Rest assured I shall respect it. And you will permit me to express the sentiment that the fellow must have been ice itself to turn cold to you."

She did not reply, and he continued:

"But all that was in the past. You look back with scorn upon your fickle lover. Let me teach you to forget him in a new love. Be my bride, and no wife was ever worshiped as shall be Azalia, Countess of Clive!"

"I thought you would not tease me any more when you heard my story," she said, pensively; but he vowed that this only made him more determined to win her for his own.

"You have loved before—what does it matter?" he said. "There are few who do not fancy themselves in love at an early stage of existence. This first love, what is it but the light froth on the wave, shining brightly a moment, then dissolving forever. I would be contented to be your last love, dear, to have you say to me:

What a persistent lover he was, thought the irritated listener. He wished that Lord Clive would go away, but to his chagrin he only renewed his suit, and presently Azalia said, wonderingly:

"You would be willing to marry me after what I have told you?"

"Willing and happy. I believe that I could teach you to forget the bitter past, and to love me," he replied, earnestly; then, eagerly, "Oh, Azalia—"

She held out her beautiful hand to him.

"Then I consent for you to make the effort," she said.

It seemed to Laurie Meredith as if the point of a poisoned dagger had gone through his breast. His head drooped and he seemed dazed for a little. He came to himself with a start, and heard Azalia saying:

"Now, leave me alone a little to think of my rash promise. You may tell my great-grandpapa, if you wish. It will make him very happy."

He left her reluctantly, and Laurie Meredith stumbled out of his seat to go. She looked up at the sound, and their eyes met, hers full of bitter triumph, his dim with a misery she could not fathom.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Brooke. I was here when you and Lord Clive came. I did not wish to interrupt you—it would have been embarrassing. But had I known I was to hear—" he paused, and she said:

"My bitter confession and Lord Clive's proposal, you would have gone; but you stayed and heard—so now."

"I should congratulate Lord Clive, and wish you a happy future, which I do, fair Countess of Clive to be," he answered, in a strained voice, and Azalia Brooke thanked him with superb self-possession.

But could he have seen how the proud head drooped when he had gone, could he have read the secret thoughts of that tortured heart?

"Oh, what if he knew that I saw him there, that my confession, my acceptance of Lord Clive were all to pique him to return to his old allegiance? Alas, my test has failed! I thought he was beginning to care for me again, that somehow he suspected that I was Flower. But no, he cares not. It is Jewel he loves, and I can doubt no longer. That marriage was a sham, as she said, and it was well that my baby died, poor little one, with the same dark brand on his birth as that upon his mother's! Alas, dare I keep my troth with Lord Clive without confessing my shameful birth? But then, Lord Ivon has forbidden me ever to confess the truth, so what can I do?"