So she sat on, the lilies still in her lap, until she was roused by a step, by one word--
"Gwen!"
She turned startled, to see the startled face of a young man behind her. It was a beautiful face, the sort of a face which women love, and in its quick amaze there was almost a hint of appeal, of hope for fair hearing.
The girl grasped the situation in a moment. He had been misled by her blue dress. He had thought she was Gwen; poor frail Gwen who was not "all wise," yet still had been wise enough to keep this secret of hers.
He turned with a half-muttered apology, in another instant he would have been gone, but Aura's strong, firm fingers were on his wrist; she looked at him from head to foot, judging him.
Then with one swift sweep of her other hand she struck his handsome face full with the fading lilies she still held.
"Coward!" she said. "Go! your task is done!"
The flowers broke softly on his warm flesh and blood, leaving no mark, but her words seemed to shrivel him; he slunk away.
She watched him disappear down the hillside, then with a sob she flung herself face down on the short turf, crushing the lilies to their death, and cried as though her heart would break.