“I did not say it was yours.”
“Not in words, perhaps; but then, you see, I can read the language of the eyes.”
Helena blushed at this, but, purposely misunderstanding the hint, made demure reply.
“Ah, you see my education has been neglected in that particular branch.”
“Shall I teach you?”
“I am afraid you will find me a bad pupil.”
“I don’t mind taking that risk, Helena.”
He laid his hand on one of hers with a caressing gesture, upon which she let it remain, but snatched up a cornflower with the other.
“Look what a beautiful blossom!”
“It is the color of your eyes.”