For an instant she stared at him in astonishment. Holding tight her flowers, she gazed at his agitated face. "Nothing," she answered. "How could anything be wrong when you have been so—so—" But words failed her.
"Why! your red light's burning" he explained.
"I declare! I forgot all about it!"
Then another silence. He threw himself back in an arm-chair, breathing hard, and trying to recover his composure.
"Do you mean—didn't you mean to signal for help?" he finally asked.
"Yes, I did"—an arch and mischievous smile now brightening her face. "When I swung it I wanted you to come quick and drive—yourself away."
Then she put down her box, and stepped impulsively towards him, two white hands outstretched, tears starting from her eyes, the color surging to her lovely face—"Where can I find words to thank you, Captain Santa Claus?"
He rose quickly, his face flushed and eager, his strong hands trembling.
"Shall I tell you?" he asked.
Her head was drooping now; her eyes could not meet the fervent love and longing in his; her bosom heaved with every breath. She could only stand and tremble when he seized her hands.