"Yes, it has come at last," broke forth the man, almost savagely. "You would have it so. Remember, you would—"
"Why, how cross you are. Was it I that first made love?"
"You? Yes. It always is the woman."
"Oh, Richard, dear—how you love to torment me!"
The girl took his arm, as she said this, and held to it caressingly, with both hands, while her eyes, half-beaming, half-tearful, sought in his face some contradiction of his savage mood.
"Is the torment all on one side?" he muttered, enduring her caressing touch with surly impatience.
"There, Dick, only say for once that you are happy."
"Oh, wonderfully happy. There, now, let us walk faster."
They did walk on; now in the moonlight, now in deep shadow, she leaning upon him with fond dependence, which he appeared to recognize, though few words were spoken between them.
Once, as they passed a sheltered copse half-way between the lake and Jessup's cottage, both saw the figure of a man retreating from the path, and knew that he was regarding them from under covert. Then Storms did meet the girl's bright glance, and they both laughed with subdued merriment.