s so exquisitely set in youth and beauty and
maidenhood that it overawed and frightened him. It seemed impossible
that she should ever love him. These eyes, this face of hers--how they
enchanted him! He was drawn as by a strong cord, and so was she--by an
immense, terrible magnetism. He had felt it all the afternoon. Keenly.
He was feeling it intensely now. He pressed her to his bosom, and she
yielded, yearningly, suiting her motions to his subtlest moods. He
wanted to exclaim: "Oh, Suzanne! Oh, Suzanne!" but he was afraid. If he
said anything to her it would frighten her. She did not really dream as
yet what it all meant.

"You know," he said, when the music stopped, "I'm quite beside myself.
It's narcotic. I feel like a boy."

"Oh, if they would only go on!" was all she said. And together they went
out on the veranda, where there were no lights but only chairs and the
countless stars.

"Well?" said Mrs. Dale.

"I'm afraid you don't love to dance as well as I do?" observed Eugene
calmly, sitting down beside her.

"I'm afraid I don't, seeing how joyously you do it. I've been watching
you. You two dance well together. Kinroy, won't you have them bring us
ices?"

Suzanne had slipped away to the side of her brother's friends. She
talked to them cheerily the while Eugene watched her, but she was
intensely conscious of his presence and charm. She tried to think what
she was doing, but somehow she could not--she could only feel. The music
struck up again, and for looks' sake he let her dance with her brother's
friend. The next was his, and the next, for Kinroy preferred to sit out
one, and his friend also. Suzanne and Eugene danced the major portions
of the dances together, growing into a wild exaltation, which, however,
was wordless except for a certain eagerness which might have been read
into what they said. Their hands spoke when they touched and their eyes
when they met. Suzanne was intensely shy and fearsome. She was really
half terrified by what she was doing--afraid lest some word or thought
would escape Eugene, and she wanted to dwell in the joy of this. He went
once between two dances, when she was hanging over the rail looking at
the dark, gurgling water below, and leaned over beside her.

"How wonderful this night is!" he said.

"Yes, yes!" she exclaimed, and looked away.

"Do you wonder at all at the mystery of life?"

"Oh, yes; oh, yes! All the time."

"And you are so young!" he said passionately,