a trifle brokenly, "are
you angry?"

"Angry?--good Lord!"

Then recovering control of senses and of sense--"But, dear witch," he
asked her--"since when, if I may venture to enquire, have you become an
adept in the fine art of--well--lying?"

Damaris looked around, her face irradiated by laughter.

"And you played up, oh! so beautifully quick! I was a teeny bit afraid
you might fail me. For the idea came all of a minute, there wasn't time
to warn you. And that was fortunate perhaps--for me. You might have had
scruples. And I was obliged to do it. After talking about the things
which really matter, I couldn't dance with that vulgar little man
again--or with those jealous boys. They had an idiotic quarrel, actual
quarrel, down in the garden. It displeased me. I told them so, and left
them, and came here to find you--because of the fountain and the sort of
home-sickness it gave me."

Between laughing and crying, Damaris held out her hands, the white
moonlight covering her.

"Oh! I am tired of rushing about," she said. "Come and dance with
me--it's nonsense to tell me you can't dance, and that you've forgotten
how, because you have danced once this evening already--with Henrietta. I
watched you and you dance better than anybody."

"With Henrietta--that's rather a different matter!"

"I should hope it was," Damaris took him up naughtily. "But dance with
me, and then, then please take me home. Yes," as he tried to speak. "I
know I had arranged to stay the night at the Pavilion. But I'll find some
excuse to make to Henrietta--Haven't you just told me I'm proficient in
lying?--You were going to walk back? Why shouldn't I walk with you? I
won't be five minutes changing into my day clothes. It would be so
fascinating down on the shore road at night. And I should get quiet all
inside of me. I am tired of rushing about, Colonel Sahib, it hasn't been
a success."

She stopped breathless, her hands pressed over her lace and satin
swathed bosom.

"Now come and dance,--oh! so beautifully, please, come and dance."

CHAPTER VII

TELLING HOW DAMARIS DISCOVERED THE TRUE NATURE OF A CERTAIN SECRET TO THE
DEAR MAN WITH THE BLUE EYES

The beat of a tideless sea, upon the shore, is at once unrestful and
monotonous; in this only too closely resembling the beat of the human
heart, when the glory of youth has departed. The splendid energy of the
flow and grateful easing of the ebb alike are denied it. Foul or fair,
shine o