"I believe you want to get rid of me," said he.
"Do you?" She stood and laughed at him. She had always been charming; but Love, when he came to her, had lent her many cosmetics, and now she was lovely. "You believe that?" She held out her hands to him. "What a story!"
"My darling! my life!" said Dillwyn in a low tone fraught with love. "Must I go now? When shall I see you again?"
"Why, to-morrow at the Poynter's. Now, do try to be there in time. Get over your cases as quickly as you can. Oh no! don't. Poor things! Of course your patients want you more than I do."
"Still, tell me that you want me too—just as much as they do."
"I needn't!" said she, tears rising in her eyes. She smiled tremulously. "You know it!"
They had come out of the little summer-house and were strolling towards the gate where they were to part. The night had fallen a little lower, and everything lay in a soft dusk.
It was not so dark, however, but that a figure standing just outside the gate, and hidden by a thick laurel bush, could see and hear all that was going on in this small garden.
"What a beautiful sky!" said Agatha, stopping to look up at the exquisite dome above her.
Dillwyn looked up too. Yes, it was exquisite—the glittering small stars, shining like silver on that pale breast of blue! Some old lines came to him. He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips.