And Kitty smiled wistfully as she answered:
“Yes––till I found you.”
“Oh!” said Hardy, and he studied her face warily, as if doubtful of her intent.
“But how could you be lost,” he asked again, “and travel so far? This is a rough country, and you got here before I did.”
He swung down from his horse and stood beside her, but Kitty only laughed mischievously and shook her head––at which, by some lover’s magic, the dainty forget-me-nots fell from her hair in a shower of snowy blossoms.
“I was lost,” she reiterated, smiling into his eyes, and in her gaze Hardy could read––“without you.”
For a moment the stern sorrow of the night withheld him. His eyes narrowed, and he opened his lips to speak. Then, bowing his head, he knelt and gathered up the flowers.
“Yes,” he said gently, “I understand. I––I have been lost, too.”
They smiled and sat down together in the shadow of a great rock, gazing out over the peaks and pinnacles of the mountains which wall in Hidden Water and talking placidly of the old days––until at last, when the spell of the past was on him, Kitty fell silent, waiting for him to speak his heart.