Four years had passed, and Lillian was fast blooming into a lovely woman: proud and willful as ever, but very charming, and already a belle¹ in the little world where she still reigned² a queen. Owing to her mother's ill health, she was allowed more freedom than is usually permitted to an English girl of her age; and, during the season, often went into company with a friend of Lady Trevlyn's who was chaperoning two young daughters of her own. To the world Lillian seemed a gay, free-hearted girl; and no one, not even her mother, knew how well she remembered and how much she missed the lost Paul. No tidings of him had ever come, and no trace of him was found after his flight. Nothing was missed, he went without his wages, and no reason could be divined for his departure except the foreign letter. Bedford remembered it, but forgot what postmark it bore, for he had only been able to decipher "Italy." My lady made many inquiries³ and often spoke⁴ of him; but when month after month passed and no news came, she gave him up, and on Lillian's account feigned⁵ to forget him. Contrary to Hester's fear, she did not seem the worse for the nocturnal fright, but evidently connected the strange visitor with Paul, or, after a day or two of nervous exhaustion⁶, returned to her usual state of health. Hester had her own misgivings⁷, but, being forbidden to allude⁸ to the subject, she held her peace, after emphatically declaring that Paul would yet appear to set her mind at rest.

 

"Lillian, Lillian, I've such news for you! Come and hear a charming little romance, and prepare to see the hero of it!" cried Maud Churchill, rushing into her friend's pretty boudoir one day in the height of the season.

 

Lillian lay on a couch, rather languid after a ball, and listlessly begged Maud to tell her story, for she was dying to be amused.

 

"Well my, dear, just listen and you'll be as enthusiastic as I am," cried Maud. And throwing her bonnet⁹ on one chair, her parasol on another, and her gloves anywhere, she settled herself on the couch and began: "You remember reading in the papers, some time ago, that fine account of the young man who took part in the Italian revolution and did that heroic thing with the bombshell?"

 

"Yes, what of him?" asked Lillian, sitting up.

 

"He is my hero, and we are to see him tonight."

 

"Go on, go on! Tell all, and tell it quickly," she cried.

 

"You know the officers were sitting somewhere, holding a council, while the city (I forget the name) was being bombarded, and how a shell came into the midst of them, how they sat paralyzed, expecting it to burst, and how this young man caught it up and ran out with it, risking his own life to save theirs?"

 

"Yes, yes, I remember!" And Lillian's listless face kindled¹⁰ at the recollection.

 

"Well, an Englishman who was there was so charmed by the act that, finding the young man was poor and an orphan¹¹, he adopted him. Mr. Talbot was old, and lonely, and rich, and when he died, a year after, he left his name and fortune to this Paolo."

 

"I'm glad, I'm glad!" cried Lillian, clapping her hands with a joyful¹² face. "How romantic and charming it is!"

 

"Isn't it? But, my dear creature, the most romantic part is to come. Young Talbot served in the war, and then came to England to take possession of his property. It's somewhere down in Kent, a fine place and good income, all his; and he deserves it. Mamma heard a deal about him from Mrs. Langdon, who knew old Talbot and has seen the young man. Of course all the girls are wild to behold¹³ him, for he is very handsome and accomplished¹⁴, and a gentleman by birth. But the dreadful part is that he is already betrothed¹⁶ to a lovely Greek girl, who came over at the same time, and is living in London with a companion; quite elegantly, Mrs. Langdon says, for she called and was charmed. This girl has been seen by some of our gentlemen friends, and they already rave¹⁷ about the 'fair Helene,' for that's her name."

 

Here Maud was forced to stop for breath, and Lillian had a chance to question her.

 

"How old is she?"

 

"About eighteen or nineteen, they say."

 

"Very pretty?"

 

"Ravishing, regularly Greek and divine, Fred Raleigh says."

 

"When is she to be married?"

 

"Don't know; when Talbot gets settled, I fancy."

 

"And he? Is he as charming as she?"

 

"Quite, I'm told. He's just of age, and is, in appearance as in everything else, a hero of romance."

 

"How came your mother to secure him for tonight?"

 

"Mrs. Langdon is dying to make a lion of him, and begged to bring him. He is very indifferent on such things and seems intent on his own affairs. Is grave and old for his years, and doesn't seem to care much for pleasure and admiration¹⁸, as most men would after a youth like his, for he has had a hard time, I believe. For a wonder, he consented to come when Mrs. Langdon asked him, and I flew off at once to tell you and secure you for tonight."

 

"A thousand thanks. I meant to rest, for Mamma frets¹⁹ about my being so gay; but she won't object to a quiet evening with you. What shall we wear?" And here the conversation branched off on the all-absorbing topic of dress.

 

When Lillian joined her friend that evening, the hero had already arrived, and, stepping into a recess²⁰, she waited to catch a glimpse of him. Maud was called away, and she was alone when the crowd about the inner room thinned and permitted young Talbot to be seen. Well for Lillian that no one observed her at that moment, for she grew pale and sank into a chair, exclaiming below her breath, "It is Paul - my Paul!"

 

She recognized him instantly, in spite of increased height, a dark moustache, and martial²¹ bearing. It was Paul, older, graver, handsomer, but still "her Paul," as she called him, with a flush of pride and delight as she watched him, and felt that of all there she knew him best and loved him most. For the childish affection still existed, and this discovery added a tinge²² of romance that made it doubly dangerous as well as doubly pleasant.

 

Will he know me? she thought, glancing at a mirror which reflected a slender figure with bright hair, white arms, and brilliant eyes; a graceful²³ little head, proudly carried, and a sweet mouth, just then very charming, as it smiled till pearly teeth shone between the ruddy lips.

 

I'm glad I'm not ugly, and I hope he'll like me, she thought, as she smoothed the golden ripples²⁴ on her forehead, settled her sash, and shook out the folds of her airy dress in a flutter of girlish excitement. "I'll pretend not to know him, when we meet, and see what he will do," she said, with a wicked sense of power; for being forewarned she was forearmed, and, fearing no betrayal of surprise on her own part, was eager to enjoy any of which he might be guilty.

 

Leaving her nook, she joined a group of young friends and held herself prepared for the meeting. Presently she saw Maud and Mrs. Langdon approaching, evidently intent on presenting the hero to the heiress.

 

"Mr. Talbot, Miss Trevlyn," said the lady. And looking up with a well-assumed air of indifference²⁵, Lillian returned the gentleman's bow with her eyes fixed²⁶ full upon his face.

 

Not a feature of that face changed, and so severely²⁷ unconscious of any recognition was it that the girl was bewildered. For a moment she fancied she had been mistaken in his identity, and a pang²⁸ of disappointment troubled her; but as he moved a chair for Maud, she saw on the one ungloved hand a little scar which she remembered well, for he received it in saving her from a dangerous fall. At the sight all the happy past rose before her, and if her telltale eyes had not been averted²⁹ they would have betrayed her. A sudden flush of maidenly³⁰ shame dyed her cheek as she remembered that last ride, and the childish confidences then interchanged. This Helen was the little sweetheart whose picture he wore, and now, in spite of all obstacles, he had won both fortune and ladylove. The sound of his voice recalled her thoughts, and glancing up she met the deep eyes fixed on her with the same steady look they used to wear. He had addressed her, but what he said she knew not, beyond a vague idea that it was some slight allusion³¹ to the music going on in the next room. With a smile which would serve for an answer to almost any remark, she hastily plunged³² into conversation with a composure that did her credit in the eyes of her friends, who stood in awe³³ of the young hero, for all were but just out.

 

"Mr. Talbot hardly needs an introduction here, for his name is well-known among us, though this is perhaps his first visit to England?" she said, flattering herself that this artful speech would entrap³⁴ him into the reply she wanted.

 

With a slight frown, as if the allusion to his adventure rather annoyed him, and a smile that puzzled all but Lillian, he answered very simply, "It is not my first visit to this hospitable³⁵ island. I was here a few years ago, for a short time, and left with regret."

 

"Then you have old friends here?" And Lillian watched him as she spoke.

 

"I had. They had doubtless forgotten me now," he said, with a sudden shadow marring the tranquillity³⁶ of his face.

 

"Why doubt them? If they were true friends, they will not forget."

 

The words were uttered impulsively³⁷, almost warmly, but Talbot made no response, except a polite inclination³⁸ and an abrupt³⁹ change in the conversation.

 

"That remains⁴⁰ to be proved. Do you sing, Miss Trevlyn?"

 

"A little." And Lillian's tone was both cold and proud.

 

"A great deal, and very charmingly," added Maud, who took pride in her friend's gifts both of voice and beauty. "Come, dear, there are so few of us you will sing, I know. Mamma desired me to ask you when Edith had done."

 

To her surprise Lillian complied, and allowed Talbot to lead her to the instrument. Still hoping to win some sign of recognition from him, the girl chose an air he taught her and sang it with a spirit and skill that surprised the listeners who possessed⁴¹ no key to her mood. At the last verse her voice suddenly faltered⁴², but Talbot took up the song and carried her safely through it with his well-tuned voice.

 

"You know the air then?" she said in a low tone, as a hum of commendation followed the music.

 

"All Italians sing it, though few do it like yourself," he answered quietly, restoring the fan he had held while standing⁴³ beside her.

 

Provoking boy! why won't he know me? thought Lillian. And her tone was almost petulant⁴⁴ as she refused to sing again.

 

Talbot offered his arm and led her to a seat, behind which stood a little statuette of a child holding a fawn⁴⁵ by a daisy chain.

 

"Pretty, isn't it?" she said, as he paused to look at it instead of taking the chair before her. "I used to enjoy modeling tiny deer and hinds⁴⁶ in wax, as well as making daisy chains. Is sculpture among the many accomplishments⁴⁷ which rumor⁴⁸ tells us you possess?"

 

"No. Those who, like me, have their own fortunes to mold find time for little else," he answered gravely, still examining the marble group.

 

Lillian broke her fan with an angry flirt⁴⁹, for she was tired of her trial, and wished she had openly greeted him at the beginning; feeling now how pleasant it would have been to sit chatting of old times, while her friends dared hardly address him at all. She was on the point of calling him by his former name, when the remembrance of what he had been arrested the words on her lips. He was proud; would he not dread¹⁵ to have it known that, in his days of adversity, he had been a servant? For if she betrayed her knowledge of his past, she would be forced to tell where and how that knowledge was gained. No, better wait till they met alone, she thought; he would thank her for her delicacy⁵⁰, and she could easily explain her motive⁵¹. He evidently wished to seem a stranger, for once she caught a gleam of the old, mirthful mischief⁵² in his eye, as she glanced up unexpectedly. He did remember her, she was sure, yet was trying her, perhaps, as she tried him. Well, she would stand the test and enjoy the joke by-and-by. With this fancy in her head she assumed a gracious air and chatted away in her most charming style, feeling both gay and excited, so anxious was she to please, and so glad to recover her early friend. A naughty whim⁵³ seized her as her eye fell on a portfolio⁵⁴ of classical engravings which someone had left in disorder⁵⁵ on a table near her. Tossing them over she asked his opinion of several, and then handed him one in which Helen of Troy was represented as giving her hand to the irresistible⁵⁶ Paris.

 

"Do you think her worth so much bloodshed, and deserving so much praise?" she asked, vainly trying to conceal⁵⁷ the significant smile that would break loose on her lips and sparkle in her eyes.

 

Talbot laughed the short, boyish laugh so familiar to her ears, as he glanced from the picture to the arch questioner, and answered in a tone that made her heart beat with a nameless pain and pleasure, so full of suppressed ardor⁵⁸ was it:

 

"Yes! 'All for love or the world well lost' is a saying I heartily⁵⁹ agree to. La belle Helene is my favorite heroine, and I regard Paris as the most enviable of men."

 

"I should like to see her."

 

The wish broke from Lillian involuntarily, and she was too much confused to turn it off by any general expression of interest in the classical lady.

 

"You may sometime," answered Talbot, with an air of amusement; adding, as if to relieve her, "I have a poetical⁶⁰ belief that all the lovely women of history or romance will meet, and know, and love each other in some charming hereafter."

 

"But I'm no heroine and no beauty, so I shall never enter your poetical paradise," said Lillian, with a pretty affectation of regret.

 

"Some women are beauties without knowing it, and the heroines of romances never given to the world. I think you and Helen will yet meet, Miss Trevlyn."

 

As he spoke, Mrs. Langdon beckoned⁶¹, and he left her pondering over his last words, and conscious of a secret satisfaction in his implied promise that she should see his betrothed.

 

"How do you like him?" whispered Maud, slipping into the empty chair.

 

"Very well," was the composed reply; for Lillian enjoyed her little mystery too much to spoil it yet.

 

"What did you say to him? I longed to hear, for you seemed to enjoy yourselves very much, but I didn't like to be a marplot."

 

Lillian repeated a part of the conversation, and Maud professed⁶² to be consumed with jealousy⁶³ at the impression her friend had evidently made.

 

"It is folly⁶⁴ to try to win the hero, for he is already won, you know," answered Lillian, shutting the cover on the pictured Helen with a sudden motion as if glad to extinguish her.

 

"Oh dear, no; Mrs. Langdon just told Mamma that she was mistaken about their being engaged; for she asked him and he shook his head, saying Helen was his ward⁶⁵."

 

"But that is absurd, for he's only a boy himself. It's very odd, isn't it? Never mind, I shall soon know all about it."

 

"How?" cried Maud, amazed at Lillian's assured manner.

 

"Wait a day or two and, I'll tell you a romance in return for yours. Your mother beckons⁶⁶ to me, so I know Hester has come. Good night. I've had a charming time."

 

And with this tantalizing⁶⁷ adieu, Lillian slipped away. Hester was waiting in the carriage, but as Lillian appeared, Talbot put aside the footman and handed her in, saying very low, in the well-remembered tone:

 

"Good night, my little mistress."

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