rious fluttering rush at his heart. He fancied she flushed a little
deeper as she turned away.

As for him, it had been a very long while since he had felt that
singular weakness in the presence of a young woman. He walked on, trying
to account for it. It made him feel very boyish. He had a furtive desire
to remain in the hall where he could watch her, and when he passed up
the stairs, it was with a distinct feeling of melancholy, as if he were
leaving something very dear and leaving it forever.

He wondered where this feeling came from, and he looked into the
upturned faces of the girls as if they were pansies. He wandered about
the rooms with the Blakeslys, being bored by introductions, until at
last Miss Powell came up the stairway with the last of the guests.

While the girls sang and went through some pretty drills Ware again
studied Miss Powell. Her appeal to his imagination was startling. He
searched for the cause of it. It could not be in her beauty. Certainly
she was fine and womanly and of splendid physique, but all about her
were lovely girls of daintier flesh and warmer color. He reasoned that
her power was in her eyes, steady, frank as sunlight, clear as water in
a mountain brook. She seemed unconscious of his scrutiny.

At last they began moving down the stairs and on to the other buildings.
Ware and Blakesly waited for the ladies to come down. And when they came
they were in the midst of a flood of girls, and Ware had no chance to
speak to them. As they moved across the grass he fell in behind Mrs.
Blakesly, who seemed to be telling secrets to Miss Powell, who flushed
and shook her head.

Mrs. Blakesly turned and saw Ware close behind her, and said, "O Mr.
Ware, where is my dear, dear husband?"

"Back in the swirl," Ware replied.

Mrs. Blakesly artfully dropped Miss Powell's arm and fell back. "I must
not desert the poor dear." As she passed Ware she said, "Take my place."

"With pleasure," he replied, and walked on after Miss Powell, who seemed
not to care to wait.

How simply she was dressed! She moved like an athlete, without effort
and without constraint. As he walked quickly to overtake her a finer
light fell over the hills and a fresher green came into the grass. The
daisies nodding in the wind blurred together in a dance of light and
loveliness which moved him like a song.

"How beautiful everything is to-day!" he said, as he stepped to her
side. He felt as if he had said, "How beautiful