Without a word she stooped and lifted the water and held it to him. He drank from the rosy cup to the last drop. Then he suddenly caught the hands that had served him, and pressed them to his lips. For a moment they were yielded to him, and then the girl drew back. He thought she trembled a little, and the ardour in his gaze grew. "I am sorry," he said, "but I couldn't help it. You are not angry, Miss Pamela?" "I am going home, Sir Anthony," she said. "Not till you tell me one thing----" He barred her way, putting himself in front of her. "Tell me what you wished for." Her eyes fell before his, and as she stood with her hands clasped, and her head bent, she was a different creature from the wild Pamela of a few short weeks ago. The sunlight through the thinned branches fell on her short curls, for her hat--which she had been swinging by a ribbon--had fallen to her feet. "Look at me," he said; "I want to see what is in your eyes." She lifted them obediently, and then let them fall again. "Ah, that is enough," he said, with exultation in his voice. "You have answered me, Pam. That is enough just for the present. Some day I shall tell you what I wished for, and we shall see if our wishes come true. A double wish should have double force to induce its fulfilment. Isn't it so, Pam?" She said nothing, and he looked at her with triumph shining in his eyes. Blent with it was the tenderness of a lover when he knows he is loved, and just a shade of shamefacedness as well. "We must be wise, little beautiful Pamela," he said presently, in a low voice. "We must be wise and wait. I mustn't ask yet all I would ask, but I will one day--one good day, Pamela. You will trust me, won't you?" "Yes," said Pamela, hardly knowing what she was asked. "It will not be for long. Indeed, I could not endure it for long. Shall we be friends for a little while longer, Pamela darling?" "Yes," said Pamela, forgetting to rebuke him. "After to-day I will not call you darling till I have the right before all the world. After to-day. I meant to have held my tongue, but you bewildered me, Pamela. You are not angry with me?" "No," came almost in a whisper. "Lift up your eyes to me and say it. That is right. How beautiful your eyes are, Pamela! Say 'Tony,' now." "Tony!" "Dear Tony." "Dear Tony!" "How sweetly you say it! It is like silver in your voice. But, come now, we will go home. I have to be wise, you know. Ah, Pamela, Pamela! why did you bring me to the Wishing Well?" "You wanted to go." "Yes, I know; but it was an accident that we were alone, or it was Fate--yes, it was surely Fate that sent Miss Spencer's carriage for your sister at the last moment, so that we had to take our walk without her. Shall we go now, and talk no more about love to-day?" Pamela hesitated, and then said: "Poor Sylvia! She has spent this lovely afternoon shut up with an old lady and a dog." "She wouldn't mind the dog, I fancy, Pam."