"How unselfish you are," she breathed. "No, you are not hurting my fingers. Tell me more--about love and the blessed years awaiting us, and about our children--oh, is it not wonderful!" "Ex--extremely," he managed to mutter, touching his suddenly dampened forehead with his handkerchief, and attempting to set his thoughts in some sort of order. He could not; the incoherence held him speechless, dazed, under the magic of this superb young being instinct with the soft fire of life. Her loveliness, her innocence, the beautiful, direct gaze, the childlike fulness of mouth and contour of cheek and throat, left him spellbound. The very air around them seemed suffused with the vital glow of her youth and beauty; each breath they drew increased their wonder, till the whole rosy universe seemed thrilling and singing at their feet, and they two, love-crowned, alone, saw Time and Eternity flowing like a golden tide under the spell of Paradise. "Jim!" The hoarse whisper of Lethbridge shook the vision from him; he turned a flushed countenance to his friend; but Cybele spoke: "We are very tired sitting here. We would like to take some tea at Sherry's," she whispered. "What do you think we had better do? It seems so--so futile to sit here--when we wish to be alone together----" "You and Henry, too!" gasped Harrow. "Yes; do you wonder?" She leaned swiftly in front of him; a fragrant breeze stirred his hair. "Lissa, I'm desperately infatuated with Mr. Lethbridge. Do you see any use in our staying here when I'm simply dying to have him all to myself somewhere?" "No, it is silly. I wish to go, too. Shall we?" "You need not go," began Cybele; then stopped, aware of the new magic in her sister's eyes. "Lissa! Lissa!" she said softly. "_You_, too! Oh, my dear--my dearest!" "Dear, is it not heavenly? I--I--was quite sure that if I ever had a good chance to talk to a man I really liked something would happen. And it has." "If Philodice might awaken father perhaps he would let us go now," whispered Cybele. "Henry says it does not take more than an hour----" "To become a bride?" "Yes; he knows a clergyman very near----" "Do you?" inquired Lissa. Lethbridge nodded and gave a scared glance at Harrow, who returned it as though stunned. "But--but," muttered the latter, "your father doesn't know who we are----" "Oh, yes, he does," said Cybele calmly, "for he sent you the tickets and placed us near you so that if we found that we liked you we might talk to you----" "Only he made a mistake in your name," added Lissa to Harrow, "for he wrote 'Stanley West, Esq.' on the envelope. I know because I mailed it." "Invited West--put _you_ where you could--good God!" "What is the matter?" whispered Lissa in consternation; "have--have I said anything I should not?" And, as he was silent: "What is it? Have I hurt you--I who----"