"Oh, I am right. You are a woman," said John.
Dorothy had maintained the disguise longer than she wished, and was willing that John should discover her identity. At first it had been rare sport to dupe him; but the latter part of her conversation had given her no pleasure. She was angry, jealous, and hurt by what she had learned.
"Yes," she answered, "I admit that I am a—a woman. Now I must go."
"Stay but one moment," pleaded John, whose curiosity and gallantry were aroused. "I will watch for Mistress Vernon, and when she appears, then you may go."
"I told you that you would want me to remain," said the girl with a sigh. She was almost ready to weep. Then she thought: "I little dreamed I was coming here for this. I will carry the disguise a little farther, and will, perhaps, learn enough to—to break my heart."
She was soon to learn all she wanted to know and a great deal more.
"Come sit by me on this stone," said John, coaxingly. The girl complied, and drew the cloak over her knees.
"Tell me why you are here," he asked.
"To meet a gentleman," she replied, with low-bent face.
"Tell me your name," John asked, as he drew my glove from her passive hand. John held the hand in his, and after examining it in the dim light saw that it was a great deal more than good to look upon. Then he lifted it to his lips and said: