She was quite near before he advanced from his place among the trees. He

did not expect her to exhibit surprise or confusion and he was not

disappointed. She was as cool as a brisk spring morning. He did not

offer his hand, but, with a fine smile of contentment, bowed low and

with mock servility.

"I report for duty, your highness," he said. She caught the ring of

gladness in his voice.

"Then I command you to shake hands with me," she said brightly. "You

have been away, I believe?" with a delicious inflection.

"Yes, for a century or more, I'm sure." Constraint fell upon them

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suddenly. The hour had come for a definite understanding and both were

conquered by its importance. For the first time in his life he knew the

meaning of diffidence. It came over him as he looked helplessly into the

clear, gray, earnest eyes. "I love you for wearing that red feather," he

said simply.

"And I loved you for wearing it," she answered, her voice soft and

thrilling. He caught his breath joyously.

"Beverly," as he bent over her, "you are my very life, my--"

"Don't, Paul!" she whispered, drawing away with an embarrassed glance

about the park. There were people to be seen on all sides. But he had

forgotten them. He thought only of the girl who ruled his heart. Seeing

the pain in his face, she hastily, even blushingly, said: "It is so

public, dear."

He straightened himself with soldierly precision, but his voice trembled

as he tried to speak calmly in defiance to his eyes. "There is the

grotto--see! It is seclusion itself. Will you come with me? I must tell

you all that is in my heart. It will burst if I do not."

Slowly they made their way to the fairy grotto deep in the thicket of

trees. It was Yetive's favorite dreaming place. Dark and cool and

musical with the rippling of waters, it was an ideal retreat. She

dropped upon the rustic bench that stood against the moss-covered wall

of boulders. With the gentle reserve of a man who reveres as well as

loves, Baldos stood above her. He waited and she understood. How unlike

most impatient lovers he was!

"You may sit beside me," she said with a wistful smile of

acknowledgment. As he flung himself into the seat, his hand eagerly

sought hers, his courtly reserve gone to the winds.

"Beverly, dearest one, you never can know how much I love you," he

whispered into her ear. "It is a deathless love, unconquerable,

unalterable. It is in my blood to love forever. Listen to me, dear one:

I come of a race whose love is hot and enduring. My people from time

immemorial have loved as no other people have loved. They have killed

and slaughtered for the sake of the glorious passion. Love is the

religion of my people. You must, you shall believe me when I say that I

will love you better than my soul so long as that soul exists. I loved

you the day I met you. It has been worship since that time."




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