She ceased to speak, and, turning fully toward him, took his hand and put
it to her lips. "May you be very happy!" she said. "I thank you, sir, that
when you came at last you did not break my dream. The dream fell short!"
The smile upon her face was very sweet, very pure and noble. She would
have gone without another word, but Haward caught her by the sleeve. "Stay
awhile!" he cried. "I too am a dreamer, though not like you, you maid of
Dian, dark saint, cold vestal, with your eyes forever on the still, white
flame! Audrey, Audrey, Audrey! Do you know what a pretty name you have,
child, or how dark are your eyes, or how fine this hair that a queen might
envy? Westover has been dull, child."
Audrey shook her head and smiled, and thought that he was laughing at her.
A vision of Evelyn, as Evelyn had looked that morning, passed before her.
She did not believe that he had found Westover dull.
"I am coming to Fair View, dark Audrey," he went on. "In its garden there
are roses yet blooming for thy hair; there are sweet verses calling to be
read; there are cool, sequestered walks to be trodden, with thy hand in
mine,--thy hand in mine, little maid. Life is but once; we shall never
pass this way again. Drink the cup, wear the roses, live the verses! Of
what sing all the sweetest verses, dark-eyed witch, forest Audrey?"
"Of love," said Audrey simply. She had freed her hand from his clasp, and
her face was troubled. She did not understand; never had she seen him like
this, with shining eyes and hot, unsteady touch.
"There is the ball at the Palace to-morrow night," he went on. "I must be
there, for a fair lady and I are to dance together." He smiled. "Poor
Audrey, who hath never been to a ball; who only dances with the elves,
beneath the moon, around a beechen tree! The next day I will go to Fair
View, and you will be at the glebe house, and we will take up the summer
where we left it, that weary month ago."
"No, no," said Audrey hurriedly, and shook her head. A vague and formless
trouble had laid its cold touch upon her heart; it was as though she saw a
cloud coming up, but it was no larger than a man's hand, and she knew not
what it should portend, nor that it would grow into a storm. He was
strange to-day,--that she felt; but then all her day since the coming of
Evelyn had been sad and strange.
The shaft of sunshine was gone from the stage, and all the house was in
shadow. Audrey descended the two or three steps leading into the pit, and
Haward followed her. Side by side they left the playhouse, and found
themselves in the garden, and also in the presence of five or six ladies
and gentlemen, seated upon the grass beneath a mulberry-tree, or engaged
in rifling the grape arbor of its purple fruit.