Page:The traitor; a story of the fall of the invisible empire (IA traitorstoryoffa00dixo).pdf/214

 In low, rapid tones John told her the story of Robert Graham's great love for his Huguenot grandmother and why he built the vault and secret way.

She listened and furtively watched him struggling with his emotions.

Suddenly he turned, looked tenderly into her eyes and took her hand.

"After all, Miss Stella, what else matters on earth, when life has once been made glorious by a great, deathless love—such a love as that which has grown in my own heart for you."

Stella turned away to hide the flash of triumph with which her face was flushed.

"Ah! don't answer me now," he rushed on. "I don't ask it. I only beg the privilege of telling you—telling you how you have lifted my soul from the shadows of self and hate, and made life radiant and beautiful. I dare not hope that you love me yet—that you only hear me is enough. That I sit by your side and tell you is all I ask. My love is so deep, so full, so rich, so great, it is glory and life and strength within itself. I could die to-night and count my life a triumph, because I've seen you and loved you, and you have heard me. May I tell you all that is in my heart?"

He leaned closer and pressed her hand gently.

"Yes," she whispered. "Why not?"