Your face is to me what sunshine is to flowers. Do not turn
its light from me."
"You see me at the lessons," she said.
"Pardon me, I do not. I never dare to look at you; if I did, Miss
Carleton would soon know my secret. I am an artist, practiced to admire.
I may say what in others would be simple impertinence. You look so
beautiful, Miss Arleigh, with the sunlight falling on you through the
apple blossoms. Will you let me make a picture of you, just as you are
now? I could paint it well, for my whole heart would be in the work."
"I am willing," she said.
"And you will let me keep the picture when it is finished, and once or
twice before the lovely summer fades you will come out here and see me
again?"
"Yes," she said, "I will come again."
"I shall keep those few penciled words you sent me until I die," he
said, "and then they shall be buried with me."
Allan Lyster was a wise general; he knew exactly when it was time to
retreat. He would fain have lingered by her side talking to her, looking
in her lovely face, but prudence told him that he had said enough. He
looked across at the trees and signed to his sister, unseen and unknown
to Miss Arleigh. Adelaide, quick to take the hint, joined them at once.
"I shall not show you my sketch, Allan," she said laughingly; "it will
not show well by the side of yours. Marion, we must go. Have you
accomplished my heart's desire--persuaded my brother to stay?"
"He did not want much persuasion," she replied, suddenly remembering
with surprise how little had been said about the matter.
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