small mouth with its
delicately curved upper lip; the line of hair over the forehead, two
graceful curves that came together in a little peak; the deep, shining
eyes that dropped now under his gaze.

"Just one kiss," he pleaded.

She shook her head, and he could see her hand clench as though to stop
her trembling.

His own trembled as he placed it over hers and stood so close that,
though he did not touch her, his presence felt like an embrace.

All the emotions of the night of which she had believed herself master
returned, but with redoubled strength. Her whole self, the slender body,
the delicate senses, the shy spirit that before had rested happy in the
love of home and wood and river, was a wild tumult of passionate desire.
To lift up her face and kiss him would be to enter through the golden
gates of paradise. But while her heart beat so fast that the blood
flooded her cheeks and she was Snowdrop no longer, she did not raise her
head.

And then a cock that had strayed from its family among the pines and
wandered in their direction raised itself upon its toes and began to
crow.

They both started, the pink on Hertha's cheeks turned to lifeless white,
and like a shadow she slipped away.

Merryvale stood motionless for a time among the trees. "You wouldn't
think it," he said to himself, looking out upon the golden river, "but
it's a black world."

"You're late," declared Pomona shortly, as Hertha entered the kitchen.
The girl did not answer, but, glancing at the clock, saw that she was on
time.

Pomona was not in good humor; indeed, Pomona's gloomy moods were
frequent, and the household, to some extent, revolved about them. "I
don't know what I should do without Hertha," Miss Patty was fond of
saying, when Pomona was especially exasperating, "she is always the
same."

But on this day, if Miss Patty had noticed, she would have found in her
maid's manner a little trembling unquiet. She did not notice, however,
being deeply occupied with Miss Witherspoon, who was proving a
stimulating companion. The two had exchanged notes upon the subject of
religion to find themselves in pleasant accord, and now were on that
most dangerous ground, domestic service.

"You have a wonderful maid," Miss Witherspoon said, after examining the
delicate, handmade waist which Hertha had just finished.

"Hertha is surely a treasure. But she likes it here, so don't, my dear
lady, hope by offering her better wages, to entice her