Beyond the Rocks

Passionate devotion was surging up in his breast.

And he was an Englishman, and it was still the morning. There was no

moon now and he had not even breakfasted! This shows sufficiently to

what state he had come.

"I want you to tell me all about Versailles," she said, looking to the

left and the gray wing beyond the chapel. "Its histories and its

meanings. I used to read about it all after Sarah brought me here once

for our treat, but you probably are learned upon the subject, and I want

to know."

"I would much rather hear what you did when Sarah brought you here for

your treat," he said.

"Oh! it was a very simple day," and she leaned back and laughed softly

at the recollection. "Papa was very hard up at that time, you know, and

we were rather poor, so we came as cheaply as we could, Sarah,

Clementine, and I, and I remember there were some very snuffy men in the

train--we could not go first-class, you see--and one of them rather

frightened me."

"The brute!" said Hector.

"I think I was about fourteen."

"And even then perfectly beautiful, I expect," he commented to himself.

"We walked up from the station, and oh! we saw all the galleries and we

ran all over the park, but we missed the way to Trianon somehow and

never saw that, and when we got back here we were too tired to start

again. We had only had sandwiches, you see, that we brought with us, and

some funny little drinks at a café down there," and she pointed vaguely

towards the lake, "because we found we had only one franc fifty between

us all. But we were so happy, and Clementine knows a great deal, and

told us many things which were quite different from what was in the

guide-books--but it seems so long, long ago. Do you know it must be six

years." And she looked at him seriously.

"Half a lifetime!" agreed Hector, with a whimsical smile.

"Oh! you are laughing at me!" she said, and there was a cloud in the

blue stars which looked up at him.

He made a movement nearer her--while his deep voice took every tone of

tenderness.

"Indeed, indeed I am not--you dear little girl! I love to hear of your

day. I was only smiling to think that six years ago you were a baby

child, and I was then an old man in feeling--let me see, I was

twenty-five, and I was in Russia."