"I have a letter from Allan, and he says the very thought of
seeing you has given him a fresh life--fresh energy. I have never read
anything so rapturous in my life. Do you wish to see the letter?"
As Marion Arleigh read the passionate, poetical words that had been
written expressly for her, her face flushed. How wonderful it was to
hold a man's life in her hands--to sway a genius so that her nod meant
stay or go, her least words meant happiness or misery! She looked around
with something of pity for other girls who had not this new and
wonderful sensation.
"A life in her hands!" There came to her, young as she was, a vague idea
of woman's power for good or for evil. A cruel or cold word from her,
and the artist would go in his misery only to seek death in some far-off
land. A kind word, and he would remain--his genius would have its sway,
and he would paint pictures that the world should glory in.
"I have arranged it all," said Miss Lyster. "Miss Carleton is going
to-day to that grand dinner-party at Macdonald's. She has given orders
that the young ladies shall go over to Herrington, and take some
refreshments with them--it will be a picnic on a small scale. You can
excuse yourself from going. I will volunteer to remain with you, and
toward sunset, we will walk through the old orchard. Allan will await us
there."
The girl's heart beat; it was a romantic dream after all--that strange,
wonderful reality; the interview she had so often imagined was to take
place at last.
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