All the world loves a lover, and all the fairies guide him. As the

officer's eyes, already smiling in anticipated victory, glanced up from

the dusty road, he perceived just ahead the same steep bank down which

he had plunged in his effort at capturing his fleeing tormentor. With

the sight there came upon him a desire to loiter again in the little

glen where they had first met, and dream once more of her who had given

to the shaded nook both life and beauty. Amid the sunshine and the

shadow he could picture afresh that happy, piquant face, the dark coils

of hair, those tantalizing eyes. He swung himself from the saddle,

tied a loose rein to a scrub oak, and clambered 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."




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