It was Lord Leycester, she knew him though his back was turned toward her and he was dressed in a suit of boating flannel, and her heart leapt.
With practiced ease he brought the skiff alongside the bank and sprang up beside her, both hands outstretched.
"My darling!" he murmured, his eyes shining with a greeting as passionate as his words—"have you been waiting long? Did you think I was not coming?"
Stella put her hands in his and glanced up at him for a moment; her face flushed, then paled.
"I—I—did not know," she said, shyly, but with a little smile lurking in the corner of her red lips.
"You knew I should come," he went on. "What should, what could, prevent me? Stella! I was here before you. I have been lying under that tree, watching you; you looked so beautiful that I lay there feasting my eyes, and reluctant to move lest I should dispel the beautiful vision."
Stella looked across and her eyes drooped.
"You where there while I—I was thinking that you had perhaps—forgotten!"
"Forgotten!" and he laughed softly. "I have been looking forward to this hour; I dreamt of it last night. Can you say the same, Stella?"
She was silent for a moment, then she looked up at him shyly, as a soft "Yes" dropped from her lips.