Blue-Bird Weather

He returned slowly to the boat and stood looking up at her; and he saw

that she was smiling down at him in the starlight.

"Why did you start off so abruptly and tramp up and down?" she asked.

He looked up at her. "Shall we walk back, now?" he said.

She extended her hands to him, and he swung her to the beach. For a

moment he retained her hands; she looked at him, smiling, thrilling with

all that he had said, meeting his eyes frankly and tenderly.

"You are like some glorious magic prince to me," she said, "appearing

among us here to win our hearts with a word."

"Have I won yours with what I have said?"

"Mine? Oh, don't you know it? Do you think--even if it doesn't come

true--that I can ever forget what you have wished to do for Jim?"

Still holding her hands, he lifted them, joined her fingers, and laid

his lips to them. She bent her head and caught her breath in surprise.

"I am going North to-morrow," he said.

For a moment she did not comprehend his words. Then, a trifle dazed, she

looked up at him. "To-morrow?"

"Yes."

"Are you coming back?"

"Perhaps--next year."

"Next--year!"

"Do you--find it--a long time?"

Her straight brows bent inward a little, the startled gray eyes became

clear and steady. "Of course I knew that you must go--some time. But I

had no idea that it would be so soon. Somehow, I have thought of you as

being--here----"

"Do you care?"

Her honest eyes widened. "Care?" she repeated.

"Yes. How greatly do you care?"

The straight brows contracted still more as she stood considering

him--so close that the fresh and subtle youth of her freshened the night

again with its faint perfume.

Again he touched her hands with his lips, she watching him palely, out

of clear, gray eyes; then, as they turned away together, he encircled

her slender waist with his arm.

That she was conscious of it, and not disturbed by it, was part of her

new mystery to him. Only once, as they walked, when his circling clasp

tightened, did she rest her own hand over his where it held her body

imprisoned. But she said nothing; nor had he spoken when the belt of

pines loomed against the stars once more.

Then, though neither had spoken, they stopped. He turned to face her,

drew her into his arms, and the beating of his heart almost suffocated

him as he looked into her eyes, clear, unshrinking eyes of gray, with a

child's question in their starry depths.