The girl was dumb and scarlet, not resisting, nor defending her lips; but there came a clatter of china dishes, and I released her as Flora and Colas appeared from below, with dinner smoking, and clattering platters. And presently Lady Johnson's door opened, and she stepped out in her silk levete, followed by Claudia. "I invited no one else," said Lady Johnson, "--if that suits you, Jack." I protested that it suited me, and that I desired to spend my few hours from duty with them alone. As we were seated, I ventured a side glance at Penelope and perceived that she seemed nothing ruffled, though her colour was still high. For she gave me that faint, enchanting smile that now began to send a thrill through me, and she answered without confusion any remarks addressed to her. Remembering my Indian outside, I told Flora, and Colas took food to him on the veranda. And so we spent a very happy hour there--three old friends together once more, and a young girl stranger whom we loved already. And I did not know in what degree I loved her, but that I did love her now seemed somewhat clear to my confused senses and excited mind,--though to love, I knew, was one thing, and to be _in_ love was still another. Or so it seemed to me. My animation was presently noticed by Claudia; and she rested her eyes on me. For I talked much and laughed more, and challenged her gay conceits with a wit which seemed to me not wholly contemptible. "One might think you had been drinking of good news," quoth she; "so pray you share the draught, Jack, for we have none of our own to quench our thirst." "Unless none be good news, as they say," said Lady Johnson, wistfully. "News!" said I. "Nenni! But the sun shines, Claudia, and life is young, and 'tis a pretty world we live in after all." "If you admire a marsh," says she, "there's a world o' mud and rushes to admire out yonder." "Or if you admire a cabinful o' lonely ladies," added Lady Johnson, "you may gaze your fill upon us." "I should never be done or have my fill of beauty if I sat here a thousand years, Polly," said I. "A thousand years and a dead fish outshines our beauty," smiled Lady Johnson. "If you truly admire our beauty, Jack, best prove it now." "To which of us the Golden Apple?" inquired Claudia, offering one of the winter russets which had been picked at the Point. "Ho!" said I, "you think to perplex and frighten me? _Non, pas!_ Polly Johnson shall not have it, because, if she ever makes me wise, wisdom is its own reward and needs no other. And you shall not have it, Claudia!" "Why not?" "Mere beauty cannot claim it." "Why not? Venus received the apple cast by Eris." "But only because Venus promised Love! Do you promise me the reward of the shepherd?" "Myself?" she asked impudently. "Venus," said Lady Johnson, "made that personal exception, and so must you, Claudia. The goddess promised beauty; but not herself."