Over the burnished lake a full moon shone, and here and there a sinuous ripple flashed like a fiery serpent as it glided to land, then slipped back, while across the waste of water floated the tinkling of Beatrix's mandolin and the tenor voice of her escort. Mr. Herriott took off his hat, and when he turned suddenly to his companion she noticed a brilliant smile on his face. "Dana is very happy to-night, and I am glad to carry away the pleasant consciousness that I have done everything possible in smoothing the path to his heart's goal." "You believe he will win her?" "I certainly hope success for him. Her heart is already his, and, if he can only be patient, she must ultimately yield." "You think that in such matters persistency is invincible?" "On the contrary, many Jacobs never win their Rachels; and my prediction fits only the lovers out yonder. Aunt Trina will wail and invoke all the Manning family ghosts, but the pretty hand of Miss Beatrix will follow her heart." Looking up at him, she admitted that in personal charm he surpassed all men she had ever met, but into this verdict entered no emotional element sufficiently strong to shiver the crystal calm of her heart, and she found it difficult to identify this handsome, placid, smiling countenance with a white, drawn, twitching face whose keen pain had recently wrung tears from her in Washington. The unusual flush had faded, leaving her cheeks cool and stainless as the petals of a white rose, and the restless spark in her eyes had been extinguished by drops that were never allowed to fall. Mr. Herriott had studied her face too many years not to detect the new strained expression, the compression of lips that would quiver, and all his jealous surmises focussed on one dread--Father Temple. "Shall we walk on slowly? Not far off is a seat. I have been wishing for a quiet, uninterrupted talk before we say good-bye for an indefinite period, and this is my last opportunity. Eglah, when did you hear from Vernon Temple?" "I cannot recall the exact date, but it was several weeks ago. We do not really correspond, and his occasional notes are so impersonal that in replying I sometimes feel as if I were addressing an abstraction. At first he interested me extremely, but one cannot easily maintain his mystical elevation of spirit." "I thought you were really fond of him." "Knowing as you do that I have absolutely no faculty for growing fond of people, I am surprised you should have made the mistake. He enlisted my interest in some of his benevolent schemes, especially a 'sisterhood' for care of infirm indigents; but father has no sympathy with Vernon or his vocation, and, therefore, I have been less impressed." "At one time you were extravagant in praise of his 'saintly, magnetic face.'" "So I possibly am, or have been, about several fine pictures of handsome, bleeding flagellants and tormented martyrs, but I should prefer not to hang them permanently in my dining-room."