her
hair into shape and finally thrust the comb into the glittering, heavy
coils.

She started, as if she felt his presence without looking, and knelt
with body erect.

"P-P-Pierre!"

"Yes?"

"C-c-c-close your eyes."

He obeyed.

"Look!"

She stood with the torch high overhead, and he saw a beauty so glorious
that he closed his eyes involuntarily and still he saw the vision in
the dull-green gown, with the scarf of old gold about her shoulders and
the skin peering out here and there, dazzling white. And there were
two lights, the barbaric red of the jewels in her hair, and the black
shimmer of her eyes. He drew back a step more. It was a picture to be
looked at from a distance.

She ran to him with a cry of dismay:

"Pierre, what's wrong with me?"

His arms went round her of their own accord. It was the only place
they could go. And all this fragrant, marvelous beauty was held in the
circle of his will.

"It isn't that, but you're so wonderful, Jack, so glorious, that I
hardly know you. You're like a different person."

He felt the warm body trembling, and the thought that it was not
entirely from the cold set his heart beating like a trip-hammer. What
he felt was so strange to him that he stepped back in a vague alarm,
and then laughed. She stood with a half whimsical half expectant smile.

"Jack, how am I to risk you in the arms of all the strangers in that
dance?"

The light of Alexander when he dreamed of new worlds to conquer came
into those wide black eyes.

"It's late. Listen!"

She cupped a hand at her ear and leaned to listen. Up from the hollow
below them came a faint strain of music, a very light sound that was
drowned a moment later by the solemn rushing of the wind through the
great trees above them.

They looked up of one accord.

"Pierre, what was that?"

"Nothing; the wind in the branches, that's all."

"It was a hushing sound. It was like--it was like a warning, almost."

But he was already turning away, and she followed him hastily.

CHAPTER XXI

THE DANCE

Jacqueline could never back a horse in that gown, or even sit sidewise
in the saddle without hopelessly crumpling it, so they walked to the
schoolhouse. It was a slow progress, for she had to step lightly and
carefully for fear of the slippers. He took her bare arm and helped
her; he would never have thought of it under ordinary conditions, but
since she had put on this gown she was greatly cha