ne near them.

He flung out his arms for help, and they fell upon Lady Pippinworth
and went round her. He drew her to him. She could hear no breathing
now but his.

"Alice, I love you, for you are love itself; it is you I have been
chasing since first love rose like a bird at my feet; I never had a
passing fancy for any other woman; I always knew that somewhere in the
world there must be you, and sometime this starless night and you for
me. You were hidden behind walls of ice; no man had passed them; I
broke them down and love leaped to love, and you lie here, my
beautiful, love in the arms of its lover."

He was in a frenzy of passion now; he meant every word of it; and her
intention was to turn upon him presently and mock him, this man with
whom she had been playing. Oh, the jeering things she had to say! But
she could not say them yet; she would give her fool another moment--so
she thought, but she was giving it to herself; and as she delayed she
was in danger of melting in his arms.

"What does the world look like to you, my darling? You are in it for
the first time. You were born but a moment ago. It is dark, that you
may not be blinded before you have used your eyes. These are your
eyes, dear eyes that do not yet know their purpose; they are for
looking at me, little Alice, and mine are for looking into yours. I
cannot see you; I have never seen the face of my love--oh, my love,
come into the light that I may see your face."

They did not move. Her head had fallen on his shoulder. She was to
give it but a moment, and then----But the moment had passed and still
her hair pressed his cheek. Her eyes were closed. He seemed to have
found the way to woo her. Neither of them spoke. Suddenly they jumped
apart. Lady Pippinworth stole to the door. They held their breath and
listened.

It was not so loud now, but it was distinctly heard. It had been heavy
breathing, and now she was trying to check it and half succeeding--but
at the cost of little cries. They both knew it was a woman, and that
she was in the arbour, on the other side of the little table. She must
have been there when they came in.

"Who is that?"

There was no answer to him save the checked breathing and another
broken cry. She moved, and it helped him to see vaguely the outlines
of a girl who seemed to be drawing back from him in terror. He thought
she was crouching now in the farthest corner.

"Come away," he said. But Lady Pippinworth would not