ly
rounded cheek; he could detect even the moist shining of her parted red
lips, the white outlines of her little teeth, the length of her curved
lashes, and the meshes of the black lace veil that fell from the yellow
rose above her ear to the black silk camisa; he noted even the thick
yellow satin saya, or skirt, heavily flounced with black lace and
bugles, and that it was a different dress from that worn on the
preceding night, a half-gala costume, carried with the indescribable air
of a woman looking her best and pleased to do so: all this he had noted,
drawing nearer and nearer, until near enough to forget it all and drown
himself in the depths of her beautiful eyes. For they were no
longer childlike and wondering: they were glowing with expectancy,
anticipation--love!

He threw himself passionately on the bench beside her. Yet, even if he
had known her language, he could not have spoken. She leaned towards
him; their eyes seemed to meet caressingly, as in an embrace. Her little
hand slipped from the yellow folds of her skirt to the bench. He eagerly
seized it. A subtle thrill ran through his whole frame. There was
no delusion here; it was flesh and blood, warm, quivering, and even
tightening round his own. He was about to carry it to his lips, when she
rose and stepped backwards. He pressed eagerly forward. Another backward
step brought her to the pear-tree, where she seemed to plunge into its
shadow. Dick Bracy followed--and the same shadow seemed to fold them in
its embrace.

*****

He did not return to the veranda and chocolate that evening, but sent
word from his room that he had retired, not feeling well.

Cecily, herself a little nervously exalted, corroborated the fact of
his indisposition by telling Aunt Viney that the close odors of the rose
garden had affected them both. Indeed, she had been obliged to leave
before him. Perhaps in waiting for her return--and she really was not
well enough to go back--he was exposed to the night air too long. She
was very sorry.

Aunt Viney heard this with a slight contraction of her brows and a
renewed scrutiny of her knitting; and, having satisfied herself by
a personal visit to Dick's room that he was not alarmingly ill, set
herself to find out what was really the matter with the young people;
for there was no doubt that Cecily was in some vague way as disturbed
and preoccupied as Dick. He rode out again early the next morning,
returning to his studies in the lib