and she had any interest in common. Lo, now it
might be. "How soon _must_ you go, Evan?" she asked, as thoughts of
longitude and latitude began to deepen the cloud shadow which had just
touched her.

"A few days--a week or two more."

"Is that all?"

"Can you go with me?" he whispered, bending forward to pick up a few of
her berries, for the taste of which he certainly did not care at that
moment.

And she whispered, "No."

"Can't you?"

"You know it's impossible, Evan."

"Then I must go by myself," he said, in the same half breath, stooping
his head still so near that a half breath could be heard; and his hair,
quite emancipated from the regulation cut, touched Diana's cheek. "I
don't know how I can! But, Di--if I can get a furlough at Christmas and
come for you--will you be ready then?"

She whispered, "Yes."

"That is, supposing I am in any place that I can take you to," he went
on, after a hearty endorsement of the contract just made. "It is quite
possible I may not be! But I won't borrow trouble. This is the first
trouble I ever had in my life, Di, leaving you."

"They say prosperity makes people proud," she said, with an arch glance
at him.

"'Proud?" echoed Knowlton. "Yes, I _am_ proud. I have a right to be
proud. I do not think, Diana, there is such a pearl in all the waters
of Arabia as I shall wear on my hand. I do not believe there is a rose
to equal you in all the gardens of the world. Look up, my beauty, and
let me see you. I sha'n't have the chance pretty soon."

And yielding to the light touch of his fingers under her chin,
caressing and persuading, Diana's face was lifted to view. It was like
a pearl, for the childlike purity of all its lines; it was like enough
a rose, too; like an opening rose, for the matter of that. Her thoughts
went back to the elegance of Mrs. Reverdy and Gertrude Masters, and she
wondered in herself at Mr. Knowlton's judgment of her; but there was
too much of Diana ever to depreciate herself unworthily. She said
nothing.

"I wonder what will become you best?" said Evan in a very satisfied
tone.

"Become me?" said Diana lifting her eyes.

"Yes. What's your colour?"

"I am sure I don't know," said Diana, laughing. "No one in particular,
I guess."

"Wear everything, can you? I shouldn't wonder! But I think I should
like you in white. That's cold for winter--in some regions. I think I
should like you in--let me see--show me your eyes again, Diana. If you
wea