"Let us make a mutual compact!" she exclaimed frankly. "I have
overstrained your patience--you have startled me. Let us both forgive.
In a sense we have neither of us kept strictly to the letter of our
agreement."
Ronador bent with deference over the girl's outstretched hand and
brushed it lightly with his lips, unconscious that her face had grown
very white and troubled. Nor in his impetuous relief was he aware that
other eyes had witnessed the eloquent tableau and that Aunt Agatha had
arrived in camp with an escort who quietly deposited an armful of
dripping lilies upon the camp table and oddly enough made no effort to
retire.
When at length, conscious of the electric constraint of the atmosphere,
Ronador wheeled uncomfortably and met Philip's level glance, he stared
and reddened, hot insolent anger in the flash of his eyes and the curl
of his lips.
"Dear me!" faltered Aunt Agatha, guiltily conscious of the letter, "I
am surprised, I am indeed! Who ever would have thought of seeing you
here, Prince, among the trees and--and the ground doves and--and all
the lilies!" The unfortunate lady, convinced by now that Ronador's
apparent resentment concerned, in some inexplicable way, her escort,
herself and the lilies, glanced beseechingly about her.
Pages:
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311