red the fingernails with his own to show how
absurd they were. And all the time it seemed to the woman that her hand
had a little heart in it that was beating to suffocation.

"There, Virginia is beckoning to you from the path--perhaps you can
finish my hand another time." She laughed. "I hope you're not seriously
annoyed about it."

"It's foolish," he insisted, and replaced it with elaborate care. Then
he ran to join his ruddy cicerone. He found the girl a good comrade, who
helped him to forget those things he wished to forget. Somehow in the
quiet air, that nameless secret thing that had been eating his heart
drew off a little. Almost he could believe it had all been some hideous
mistake.

He tried at first to join Virginia in her sports. Tennis looked
foolishly easy, but after sending four of the balls beyond recovery he
suspected that the game might demand something more than willingness and
strength, and relinquished his racquet to watch the girl. He felt the
glow of the sport in following her swift movements, and he envied the
young men who could play with her.

Golf looked not only easy but useless; and it was with only half a heart
that he essayed it. He splintered a driver at his first attempt, and he
did not venture a second. Still, he liked golf better than tennis, he
decided, for he could carry the bag of things she played with and hunt
lost balls, and wander over the course alone with her. He was never able
to believe that a stroke more or less in holing the ball could be a
matter of real moment, but the girl was worth watching while she
believed it. He had never seen a real girl near before, and he was
surprised to find it so fine a sight.

In the canoe he was more successful, contriving to accomplish by sheer
strength of arm what the girl did more adroitly. They would paddle far
up the little river, to float down in the late afternoon. The river,
too, was a stage river, running between low, willow-fringed banks, or
winding among hay fields that sloped back to the upland, or lush green
meadows where cows were posed effectively. The girl became part of the
picture when they turned to float homeward, facing him from the bow, her
hair glinting yellow and her skin crystal clear against the crimson
cushion she leaned upon.

They rode together, too--he could join her there--over the upland and
far into the little hills, between tangled hedge rows, past little farms
with orchards of ripening fruit. They pa