om. She was amused, and there was a little awe to her
interest also. To think--she was sitting here, talking easily to a
man who had eaten at kings' tables--with the king! Yet she was at ease
too--since she had drunk the cordial. It had acted on her like some
philtre. He begged that she would go on with her work; and she got the
dish of strawberries, and began stemming them while he talked.

It was much easier talking or listening to him while she was so
occupied. She had never enjoyed anything so much in her life. She was
not clever, like Christine, but she had admiration of ability, and was
obedient to the charm of temperament. Whenever Ferrol had met her he had
lavished little attentions on her, had said things to her that carried
weight far beyond their intention. She had been pleased at the time, but
they had had no permanent effect.

Now everything he said had a different influence: she felt for the first
time that it was not easy to look into his eyes, and as if she never
could again without betraying--she knew not what.

So they sat there, he talking, she listening and questioning now and
then. She had placed the bottle of liqueur and the seed-cakes at
his elbow on the windowsill; and as if mechanically, he poured out
a glassful, and after a little time, still another, and at last,
apparently unconsciously, poured her out one also, and handed it to her.
She shook her head; he still held the glass poised; her eyes met his;
she made a feeble sort of protest, then took the glass and drank off the
liqueur in little sips.

"Gad, that puts fat on the bones, and gives the gay heart!" he said.
"Doesn't it, though?"

She laughed quietly. Her nature was warm, and she had the animal-like
fondness for physical ease and content.

"It's as if there wasn't another stroke of work to do in the world," she
answered, and sat contentedly back in her chair, the strawberries in her
lap. Her fingers, stained with red, lay beside the bowl. All the
strings of conscious duty were loose, and some of them were flying.
The bumble-bee that flew in at the door and boomed about the room
contributed to the day-dream.

She never quite knew how it happened that a moment later he was bending
over the back of her chair, with her face upturned to his, and his
lips--With that touch thrilling her, she sprang to her feet, and turned
away from him towards the table. Her face was glowing like a peony,
and a troubled light came into her eyes. He c