the satin of her skirt, and her face was as white as her neck and her
arms, which shone like lilies kissed by the sun, under the light of the
orange lamp.

He waited for her to speak, for it was not for him to guide or influence
her in any way by spoken word.

He led her to the wooden couch, which had perforce to serve as seat as
there was none other in the tent, and took her cloak, passing his hand
gently across the sable collar which encircled her throat; and he
glimpsed the hurt of her heart down in the depths of her eyes when she
looked up at him and put out her hand and stopped him when, murmuring
something about coffee, he turned to the entrance.

"I could not drink it, thank you," she whispered. "I--I want------" and
stopped and looked down and pleated the satin over her knee and flattened
it with her palm.

She was terrified at the desperate step she had taken--and well she might
be. She was strung to a great pitch of nervous excitement through the
exhilaration of her tearing ride; she was stubbornly determined to
prevent the finger of scorn from pointing in her direction; but she was
finding a subtle salve to the smart of the wound to her pride in the
romantic setting of the wonderful picture made by the man beside her.

In faith, I see no real excuse whatever in exoneration of her mad
impulse, unless it be in her education--or, rather, want of it--and in
the fact that she was younger than her years.

Educated in the hugger-mugger way in which are educated the girls who
will not have to use their knowledge to earn a livelihood; with, it must
be confessed, the great and rare--in these days--asset of perfect manners
and courtesy towards all mankind, yet had she never been taught the
rudiments of self-control and deliberation. She had a heart of gold,
truly, but she leapt to conclusions with closed eyes.

With her to think had always been to act. So that, having leapt far out
into a morass of incertitude, she sat perplexed, for 'tis no easy matter
to say, "Please will you marry me?" to a man, even if you know that he
worships the ground your shadow falls upon.

He sat silent, with his eyes upon her hands, waiting for Fate to point
out his path.

Little by little, bit by bit, her surroundings began to affect her. The
blood came slowly back to her cheeks so that they glowed like the wild
rose in the hedgerow; and her eyes began to lose that set stare which
hides the perturbed mind, and to soften beh