For life is sad and dark to me,
So far from happy Arcady.
"Yet, if the gods are kind, perchance
Again will come the golden weather,
And hand in hand we'll gaily dance
With love across the purple heather.
Ah, joy, how happy shall we be
When once again in Arcady."
"Many thanks for so charming a song," murmured Dan, when she ended; "but why lament what is not? You are still in Arcady, remember."
"And you?"
"I have been away, but have returned. This is the golden weather, yonder is the purple heather, and you and I are together."
A flush overspread her face, and the laughter died from lips and eyes. Dan spoke more ardently than he intended, and his glance rested on her with such fire that she trembled. The song had revealed to Dan in one instant that he was in love with this dryad, and, in the sudden rush of passion to his heart, he hardly knew what he said or did. She sat with downcast eyes, and put out her hand with a sudden gesture as though to keep off something she feared. After that brief outburst of passion, which lent ardour to his words and fire to his glance, reason reasserted her sway, and Dan felt shame-faced at so far forgetting himself. With ready wit he turned off his speech as a jest, though the throbbing of his heart gave the lie to his utterance.