Love grows fast under such conditions, and the love of these two
mortals grew to gigantic proportions, absorbing the lives of both of
them. To Stafford, all the hours that were not spent with this girl of
his heart were so much dreary waste.

To Ida--ah, well, who shall measure the intensity of a girl's first
passion? She only lived in the expectation of seeing him, in his
presence and the whispered words and caresses of his love; and, in his
absence, in the memory of them. For her life meant just this man who
had come and taken the heart from her bosom and enthroned his own in
its place.

They told each other everything. Stafford knew the whole of her life
before they met, all the little details of the daily routine of the
Hall, and her management of the farm; and she learnt from him all that
was going on at the great, splendid palace which in his modesty Sir
Stephen Orme had called the Villa. She liked to nestle against him and
hear the small details of his life, as he liked to hear hers; and she
seemed to know all the visitors at the Villa, and their peculiarities,
as well as if she were personally acquainted with them.

"You ought not to leave them so much, Stafford." she said, with mock
reproof, as they sat one afternoon in the ballow by the river. "Don't
you think they notice your absence and wonder where you are?"