e meadows, she saw by her side the
stranger who had met her the day before. Again he bowed profoundly,
and, with many well-expressed apologies, asked some trifling question
about the road.

Beatrice replied briefly, but she could not help seeing the wonder of
admiration in his face. Her own grew crimson under his gaze--he saw
it, and his heart beat high with triumph. As Beatrice went through the
meadows he walked by her side. She never quite remembered how it
happened, but in a few minutes he was telling her how many years had
passed since he had seen the spring in England. She forgot all
restraint, all prudence, and raised her beautiful eyes to his.

"Ah, then," she cried, "you have seen the great world that lies over
the wide sea."

"Yes," he replied, "I have seen it. I have been in strange, bright
lands, so different from England that they seemed to belong to another
world. I have seen many climes, bright skies, and glittering seas,
where the spice islands lie."

As he spoke, in words that were full of wild, untutored eloquence, he
saw the young girl's eyes riveted upon him. Sure of having roused her
attention, he bowed, apologized for his intrusion, and left her.

Had Dora been like other mothers, Beatrice would have related this
little adventure and told of the handsome young traveler who had been
in strange climes. As it was, knowing her mother's utter dread of all
men--her fear lest her children should ever love and marry--Beatrice
never named the subject. She thought much of Hugh Fernely--not of him
himself, but of the world he had spoken about--and she hoped it might
happen to her to meet him again.

"If we had some one here who could talk in that way," she said to
herself, "the Elms would not be quite so insupportable."

Two days afterward, Beatrice, wandering on the sands, met Hugh Fernely.
She saw the startled look of delight on his face, and smiled at his
pleasure.

"Pray forgive me," he said. "I--I can not pass you without one word.
Time has seemed to me like one long night since I saw you last."

He held in his hand some beautiful lilies of the valley--every little
white warm bell was perfect. He offered them to her with a low bow.

"This is the most beautiful flower I have seen for many years," he
said. "May I be forgiven for begging permission to offer it to the
most beautiful lady I have ever seen?"

Beatrice took it from him, blushing at his words. He walked by her
side alo