t too heavy
a dew, rambled across the fields; and there was also a lane where she
loved to walk. Whether or not Thomas Merriam suspected this, or had
ever seen, as he passed the mouth of the lane, the flutter of
maidenly draperies in the distance, it so happened that one evening
he also went a-walking there, and met Evelina. He had entered the
lane from the highway, and she from the fields at the head. So he saw
her first afar off, and could not tell fairly whether her light
muslin skirt might not be only a white-flowering bush. For, since his
outlook upon life had been so full of Evelina, he had found that
often the most common and familiar things would wear for a second a
look of her to startle him. And many a time his heart had leaped at
the sight of a white bush ahead stirring softly in the evening wind,
and he had thought it might be she. Now he said to himself
impatiently that this was only another fancy; but soon he saw that it
was indeed Evelina, in a light muslin gown, with a little lace
kerchief on her head. His handsome young face was white; his lips
twitched nervously; but he reached out and pulled a spray of white
flowers from a bush, and swung it airily to hide his agitation as he
advanced.

As for Evelina, when she first espied Thomas she started and half
turned, as if to go back; then she held up her white-kerchiefed head
with gentle pride and kept on. When she came up to Thomas she walked
so far to one side that her muslin skirt was in danger of catching
and tearing on the bushes, and she never raised her eyes, and not a
flicker of recognition stirred her sweet pale face as she passed him.

But Thomas started as if she had struck him, and dropped his spray of
white flowers, and could not help a smothered cry that was half a
sob, as he went on, knocking blindly against the bushes. He went a
little way, then he stopped and looked back with his piteous hurt
eyes. And Evelina had stopped also, and she had the spray of white
flowers which he had dropped, in her hand, and her eyes met his. Then
she let the flowers fall again, and clapped both her little hands to
her face to cover it, and turned to run; but Thomas was at her side,
and he put out his hand and held her softly by her white arm.

"Oh," he panted, "I--did not mean to be--too presuming, and offend
you. I--crave your pardon--"

Evelina had recovered herself. She stood with her little hands
clasped, and her eyes cast down before him, but not a qu