was in a ferment. She walked along under
the crescent moon, with the young man at her side whose every
thought and imagination was dwelling upon her with love. She was
conscious of a tendency of her own imagination in his direction, or
rather in the direction of the love and passion which he
represented, and all the time her heart was filled with the ideal
image of another woman. She was prostrated with that hero-worship
which belongs to young and virgin souls, and yet she felt the
drawing of that other admiration which is more earthly and more
fascinating, as it shows the jewel tints in one's own soul as well
as in the other.

As for Granville Joy, who had scrubbed his hands and face well with
scented soap to take away the odor of the leather, and put on a
clean shirt and collar, being always prepared for the possibility of
meeting this dainty young girl whom he loved, he walked along by her
side, casting, from time to time, glances which were pure admiration
at the face over the great bunch of sweet-peas.

"Don't you want me to carry them for you?" he asked.

"No, thank you," replied Ellen. "They are nothing to carry."

"They're real pretty flowers," said Granville, timidly.

"Yes, I think they are."

"Mother planted some, but hers didn't come up. Mother has got some
beautiful nasturtiums. Perhaps you would like some," he said,
eagerly.

"No, thank you, I have some myself," Ellen said, rather coldly. "I'm
just as much obliged to you."

Granville quivered a little and shrank as a dog might under a blow.
He saw this dainty girl-shape floating along at his side in a
flutter of wonderful draperies, one hand holding up her skirts with
maddening revelations of whiteness. If a lily could hold up her
petals out of the dust she might do it in the same fashion as Ellen
held her skirts, with no coarse clutching nor crumpling, not
immodestly, but rather with disclosures of modesty itself. Ellen's
wonderful daintiness was one of her chief charms. There was an
immaculateness about her attire and her every motion which seemed to
extend to her very soul, and hedged her about with the lure of
unapproachableness. It was more that than her beauty which roused
the imagination and quickened the pulses of a young man regarding
her.

Granville Joy did not feel the earth beneath his feet as he walked
with Ellen. The scent of the sweet-peas came in his face, he heard
the soft rustle of Ellen's skirts and his own heart-beats. She