I did not know what to say; but youth has its own wisdom—which is sincerity—and I blurted out:—
“In reality I was doing nothing; I was only trying to pass the time.”
There was a query in the glance of the glorious blue-black eyes and in the lifting of the ebon lashes; and I went on, conscious as I proceeded that the ground before me was marked “Dangerous”:—
“The fact is, I did not want to come up here till after three, and the time seemed precious long, I can tell you.”
“Indeed, but you have missed the best part of the view. Between one and two o’clock, when the sun strikes in between the islands—Cusheen there to the right, and Mishcar—the view is the finest of the whole day.”
“Oh, yes,” I answered, “I know now what I have missed.”
Perhaps my voice betrayed me. I certainly felt full of bitter regret; but there was no possibility of mistaking the smile which rose to her eyes and faded into the blush that followed the reception of the thought.
There are some things which a woman cannot misunderstand or fail to understand; and surely my regret and its cause were within the category.
It thrilled through me, with a sweet intoxication, to realize that she was not displeased. Man is predatory even in his affections, and there is some conscious power to him which follows the conviction that the danger of him—which is his intention—is recognized.
However, I thought it best to be prudent, and to rest on success—for a while, at least. I therefore commenced to talk of London, whose wonders were but fresh to myself, and was rewarded by the bright smile that had now become incorporated with my dreams by day and by night.