o
thoughtful of him, Dick, to have given them all that pleasure.

"And the rides," continued Dick, with the untactful pertinacity of the
average man at such moments--"you are not tired of THEM?"

No; she thought them lovely. Such freedom and freshness in the exercise;
so different from riding in the city or at watering-places, where it was
one-half show, and one was always thinking of one's habit or one's self.
One quite forgot one's self on that lovely plain--with everything so far
away, and only the mountains to look at in the distance. Nevertheless
she did not lift her eyes from the point of the little slipper which had
strayed beyond her skirt.

Dick was relieved, but not voluble; he could only admiringly follow the
curves of her pretty arms and hands, clasped lightly in her lap, down to
the point of the little slipper. But even that charming vanishing point
was presently withdrawn--possibly through some instinct--for the young
lady had apparently not raised her eyes.

"I'm so glad you like it," said Dick earnestly, yet with a nervous
hesitation that made his speech seem artificial to his own ears. "You
see I--that is--I had an idea that you might like an occasional change
of company. It's a great pity we're not on speaking terms with one
of these Spanish families. Some of the men, you know, are really fine
fellows, with an old-world courtesy that is very charming."

He was surprised to see that she had lifted her head suddenly, with a
quick look that however changed to an amused and half coquettish smile.

"I am finding no fault with my present company," she said demurely,
dropping her head and eyelids until a faint suffusion seemed to
follow the falling lashes over her cheek. "I don't think YOU ought to
undervalue it."

If he had only spoken then! The hot scent of the roses hung suspended in
the air, which seemed to be hushed around them in mute expectancy; the
shadows which were hiding Aunt Viney from view were also closing round
the bench where they sat. He was very near her; he had only to reach
out his hand to clasp hers, which lay idly in her lap. He felt himself
glowing with a strange emanation; he even fancied that she was turning
mechanically towards him, as a flower might turn towards the fervent
sunlight. But he could not speak; he could scarcely collect his
thoughts, conscious though he was of the absurdity of his silence. What
was he waiting for? what did he expect? He was not usually bashful, h