Carteret's promise and the joy of coming travel,
something of their frisky spirit caught her too--a spirit which, for all
young creatures, magically haunts the dusk. And, as they presently fled
away up the lawn, Damaris fled after them, circling over the moist
grass, darting hither and thither, alternately pursuing and pursued.

Colonel Carteret, following soberly, revolving many thoughts, did not
overtake her until the garden door was reached. There, upon the
threshold, the light from within covering and revealing her, she awaited
him. Her bosom rose and fell, her breathing being a little hurried, her
face a little flushed. Her grave eyes sparkled and danced.

"Oh! you've made me so glad, so dreadfully glad," she said. "And I never
properly thanked you. Forgive me. I never can resist them--I went mad
with the cats."

Her young beauty appeared to Carteret very notable; and, yes--although
she might disport herself in this childishly frolic fashion--it was
idle to call her, or pretend her any longer a babe. For cause to him
unknown, through force of some experience of which he remained
ignorant, she had undeniably come into the charm and mystery of her
womanhood--a very fair and noble blossoming before which reverently, if
wistfully, he bowed his head.

"It's good to have you declare yourself glad, dear witch, in that case
I'm glad too," he answered her. "But as to forgiveness, I'm inclined to
hold it over until you leave off being tantalizing--and, upon my word, I
find you uncommonly far from leaving off just now!"

"You mean until I tell you what happened?"

Carteret nodded, searching her face with wise, fearless, smiling eyes.

"Ah! yes," he said, "we can put it that way if you please." Damaris
hesitated detecting some undercurrent of meaning which puzzled her.

"I may never have to tell you. My father may speak of it--or you may just
see for yourself. Only then, then"--she with a moving earnestness prayed
him--"be kind, be lenient. Don't judge harshly--promise me you won't."

And as she spoke her expression softened to a great and unconscious
tenderness; for she beheld, in thought, a wide-winged sea-bird, above
certain letters, tattooed in indigo and crimson upon the back of a lean
shapely brown hand.

"I promise you," Carteret said, and passed in at the door marvelling
somewhat sadly.

"Is it that?" he asked himself. "If so, it comes early. Has she gone the
way of all flesh and fallen in love?"

And thi