Brandon of the Engineers

They passed the others, and after stopping to tell Kenwardine that she

was going out, Clare drew back a curtain that covered part of the window.

Dick stepped across the ledge and, seeing that the stairs below were iron

and rather slippery, held out his hand to Clare. The curtain swung back

and cut off the light, and when they were near the bottom the girl

tripped and clutched him. Her hand swept downward from his shoulder

across his chest and caught the outside pocket of his coat, while he

grasped her waist to steady her.

"Thank you," she said. "I was clumsy, but the steps are awkward and my

shoes are smooth."

Dick was glad it was dark, for he felt confused. The girl had rested upon

him for a moment and it had given him a thrill.

They crossed the broad lawn. Half of it lay in shadow, for a wood that

rolled up a neighboring hillside cut off the light of the low, half moon.

The air was still, it was too warm for dew, and there was a smell of

flowers--stocks, Dick thought, and he remembered their pungent sweetness

afterward when he recalled that night. Clare kept in the moonlight, and

he noted the elusive glimmer of her white dress. She wore no hat or wrap,

and the pale illumination emphasized the slenderness of her figure and

lent her an ethereal grace.

They stopped at a bench beneath a copper-beech, where the shadow of the

leaves checkered with dark blotches the girl's white draperies and Dick's

uniform. Some of the others had come out, for there were voices in the

gloom.

"Perhaps you wonder why I brought you here," Clare said frankly.

"No," Dick answered. "If you had any reason, I'm not curious. And I'd

rather be outside."

"Well," she said, "the light was rather glaring and the room very hot."

She paused and added: "Mr. Brandon's your cousin?"

"He is, and a very good sort. He brought me to-night, but I felt that it

was, perhaps, something of an intrusion when you came in."

"You didn't feel that before?"

Dick knew that he was on dangerous ground. He must not admit that he

suspected Kenwardine's motive for receiving promiscuous guests.

"Well, not to the same extent. You see, Lance knows everybody and

everybody likes him. I thought I might be welcome for his sake."

"It's plain that you are fond of your cousin. But why did you imagine

that I should think your visit an intrusion?"

Dick was glad he sat in the shadow, for his face was getting hot. He

could not hint that he had expected to find a rather daring coquette--the

kind of girl, in fact, one would imagine a semi-professional gambler's

daughter to be. It now seemed possible that he had misjudged Kenwardine;

and he had certainly misjudged Clare. The girl's surroundings were

powerless to smirch her: Dick was sure of that.