Greatheart

"I hope it won't come yet," said Dinah fervently. "The last few days have been so perfect. And there is so little time left."

Scott smiled. "That is the worst of perfection," he said. "It never lasts."

Dinah's eyes were wistful. "It will go on being perfect here long after we have left," she said. "Isn't it dreadful to think of all the good things--all the beauty--one misses just because one isn't there?"

"It would be if there were nothing else to think of," said Scott. "But there is beauty everywhere--if we know how to look for it."

She looked at him uncertainly. "I never knew what it meant before I came here," she told him shyly. "There is no time for beautiful things in my life. It's very, very drab and ugly. And I am very discontented. I have never been anything else."

Her voice quivered a little as she made the confession. Scott's eyes were so kind, so full of friendly understanding. Isabel had dropped out of their intercourse as completely as though her presence had been withdrawn. She lay back against her cushions, but her eyes were still watching, watching incessantly.

"I think the very dullest life can be made beautiful," Scott said, after a moment. "Even the desert sand is gold when the sun shines on it. The trouble is,--" he laughed a little--"to get the sun to shine."

Dinah leaned forward eagerly, confidentially. "Yes?" she questioned.

He looked her suddenly straight in the eyes. "There is a great store of sunshine in you," he said. "One can't come near you without feeling it. Isabel will tell you the same. Do you keep it only for the Alps? If so,--" he paused.

Dinah's face flushed suddenly under his look. "If so?" she asked, under her breath.

He smiled. "Well, it seems a pity, that's all," he said. "Rather a waste too when you come to think of it."

Dinah's eyes caught the reflection of his smile. "I shall remember that, Mr. Greatheart," she said.

"Forgive me for preaching!" said Scott.

She put out a hand to him quickly, spontaneously. "You don't preach--and it does me good," she said somewhat incoherently. "Please--always--say what you like to me!"

"At risk of hurting you?" said Scott. He held the small, impulsive hand a moment and let it go.