down the stream, leaving a track of foam behind
it as Warwick rowed with the energy of one bent on outstripping some
importunate remembrance or dogging care. Sylvia marvelled greatly at the
change which came upon him, but held fast with flying hair and lips
apart to catch the spray, enjoying the breezy flight along a path
tessellated with broad bars of blue and gold. The race ended as abruptly
as it began, and Warwick seemed the winner, for when they touched the
coast of a floating lily-island, the cloud was gone. As he shipped his
oars he turned, saying, with very much the look and manner of a pleasant
boy--

"You were asleep when we passed this morning; but I know you like
lilies, so let us go a fishing."

"That I do!" cried Sylvia, capturing a great white flower with a clutch
that nearly took her overboard. Warwick drew her back and did the
gathering himself.

"Enough, sir, quite enough. Here are plenty to trim our table and
ourselves with; leave the rest for other voyagers who may come this
way."

As Warwick offered her the dripping nosegay he looked at the white hand
scored with scarlet lines.

"Poor hand! let the lilies comfort it. You are a true woman, Miss
Sylvia, for though your palm is purple there's not a stain upon your
lips, and you have neither worked nor suffered for yourself it seems."

"I don't deserve that compliment, because I was only intent on outdoing
you if possible; so you are mistaken again you see."

"Not entirely, I think. Some faces are so true an index of character
that one cannot be mistaken. If you doubt this look down into the river,
and such an one will inevitably smile back at you."

Pleased, yet somewhat abashed, Sylvia busied herself in knotting up the
long brown stems and tinging her nose with yellow pollen as she inhaled
the bitter-sweet breath of the lilies. But when Warwick turned to resume
the oars, she said--

"Let us float out as we floated in. It is so still and lovely here I
like to stay and enjoy it, for we may never see just such a scene
again."

He obeyed, and both sat silent, watching the meadows that lay green and
low along the shore, feeding their eyes with the beauty of the
landscape, till its peaceful spirit seemed to pass into their own, and
lend a subtle charm to that hour, which henceforth was to stand apart,
serene and happy, in their memories forever. A still August day, with a
shimmer in the air that veiled the distant hills with the mellow haze,
n