"And—would that have made such a difference?" quickly.
She raised her eyes. "What do you think?"
"Betty!"
The music had begun. He who had heretofore danced perfectly, now guided wildly.
"Take care!" she whispered.
But discretion seemed to have left him; he spoke he knew not what—wild mad words that would not be suppressed. They came in contact with another couple and were brought to an abrupt stop. Flaming poppies shone on her cheeks; her eyes were brightly beaming. But she laughed and they went on. He swept her out of the crowded ball-room now, on to the broad veranda where a few other couples also moved in the starlight. On her curved lips a smile rested; it seemed to draw his head lower.
"Betty, do you mean it?" Again the words were wrested from him, would come. "What your eyes said just now?"
She lifted them again, gladly, freely—not only that—
"Yes; I mean it—mean it," said her lips. "Of course! Foolish boy! I have long meant it—"
"Long?" he cried.