ambered up the bank.

With the noiseless step of a plainsman he pushed in through the
labyrinths of bush, only to halt petrified upon the very edge of that
inner barrier. No figment of imagination, but the glowing reality of
flesh and blood, awaited him. She had neither seen nor heard his
approach, and he stopped in perplexity. He had framed a dozen speeches
for her ears, yet now he could do no more than stand and gaze, his
heart in his eyes. And it was a vision to enchain, to hold lips
speechless. She was seated with unstudied grace on the edge of the
bank, her hands clasped about one knee, her sweet face sobered by
thought, her eyes downcast, the long lashes plainly outlined against
the clear cheeks. He marked the graceful sweep of her dark,
close-fitting dress, the white fringe of dainty underskirt, the small
foot, neatly booted, peeping from beneath, and the glimpse of round,
white throat, rendered even fairer by the creamy lace encircling it.
Against the darker background of green shrubs she resembled a picture
entitled "Dreaming," which he dimly recalled lingering before in some
famous Eastern gallery, and his heart beat faster in wonderment at what
the mystic dream might be. To draw back unobserved was impossible,
even had he possessed strength of will sufficient to make the attempt,
nor would words of easy greeting come to his relief. He could merely
worship silently as before a sacred shrine. It was thus she glanced up
and saw him with startled eyes, her hands unclasping, her cheeks
rose-colored.

"Lieutenant Brant, you here?" she exclaimed, speaking as if his
presence seemed unreal. "What strange miracles an idle thought can
work!"

"Thoughts, I have heard," he replied, coming toward her with head
uncovered, "will sometimes awaken answers through vast distances of
time and space. As my thought was with you I may be altogether to
blame for thus arousing your own. From the expression of your face I
supposed you dreaming."

She smiled, her eyes uplifted for a single instant to his own. "It was
rather thought just merging into dream, and there are few things in
life more sweet. I know not whether it is the common gift of all
minds, but my day-dreams are almost more to me than my realities."

"First it was moods, and now dreams." He seated himself comfortably at
her feet. "You would cause me to believe you a most impractical
person, Miss Naida."

She laughed frankly, that rippling peal of un