The Island of Love (Camfield Series No. 15) by Barbara Cartland Page A

been able to find my ‘crock of gold at the end of the rainbow.’”
    “And you think that will suffice you for the rest of your life?”
    Lydia laughed.
    “I think it will probably have to do so. But when I go home I shall keep praying and hoping there will be a chance for me to see other parts of the world and discover treasures which before I could only read about in my books.”
    They walked on in silence, the only sound being the crispness of the hard crisp snow breaking under their feet.
    Then there was the hoot of the engine in the distance and the Earl turned round.
    “We must go back.”
    Lydia looked ahead at the untouched whiteness of the ground and gave a deep sigh.
    “I wonder how many explorers have felt frustrated when, having got so far, they have had to turn back.” She was speaking more to herself than to the Earl, but he replied:
    “There is always tomorrow.”
    “That is what we all hope,” Lydia said. “At the same time one always feels if one could just go a little further, just reach the next horizon to see if it is within our grasp.”
    There was silence for a moment, then the Earl said: “Supposing when you find it there are reasons why you cannot make it yours?”
    “Then of course,” Lydia answered, “you can only go on hoping that perhaps by a miracle, by fighting, will-power, or prayer you will be successful.”
    She was thinking as she spoke that the Earl would be successful in anything he wanted, and because of the force of his personality he was inevitably the victor, the conqueror, and it would be impossible for anybody to gainsay him.
    Then as she looked at him, wondering what he would reply, she saw he was looking serious and she had the feeling their conversation had changed from being just light-hearted and stimulating.
    Then as they walked on he said:
    “You have given me a great deal to think about, although there are some things to which there appears to be no solution.”
    “I do not believe that,” Lydia said. “Not for you, at any rate. And if we fail because we are small and ineffectual, I believe there is always a Power to help us if we call upon it.”
    As she spoke she thought perhaps it was a very strange thing to say to the Earl of Royston, and might almost sound as if she was preaching at him.
    It seemed to her as if it was a long time before he answered:
    “I hope you are right, Lydia.”
    It was the first time he had called her by her Christian name, and she felt her heart turn a somersault because she had never known it to sound so attractive until she heard him say it.
    Only yesterday when they had taken a short walk from another station he had called her ‘Miss Westbury,’ and her father had said:
    “For goodness sake, Royston, call her Lydia! After all, she is going to be your sister-in-law. When you say ‘Miss Westbury’ it reminds me of one of my sisters who was an ugly and tiresome woman, who never found a man who was fool enough to marry her!”
    The Earl had laughed, but he had not called her ‘Lydia’ until now.
    Because it made her so happy she was smiling and her face must have been radiant as they climbed back into the train.
    She went at once to Heloise to see if there was anything she could do for her.
    Her sister looked at her and said disagreeably: “What have you got to smile about, I would like to know? And you had no right to stay with Hunter after Papa came back with a bad foot! You should have returned too!”
    The way she spoke and the expression in her eyes wiped the smile from Lydia’s lips.
    “I am sorry, Heloise,” she said, “I did not think of it, and I was enjoying the exercise.”
    “Well, in future,” Heloise ordered, “you will keep away from Hunter, if I am not with him. I want him to be alone and miss me, and I am sure your stupid chatter only irritates him.”
    Lydia said nothing. She merely went to take off her fur coat and her thick boots.
    As she did so she wondered humbly if, in fact, the Earl found