“They are very happy,” said Lorry, knowing that she was also watching the strollers.
“They are so sure of each other,” she replied, sadly.
When almost directly beneath the rail, the Countess glanced upward, impelled by the strange instinct of an easily startled love, confident that prying eyes were upon her. She saw the dark forms leaning over the rail and rather jerkily brought her companion to a standstill and to a realization of his position. Anguish turned his eyes aloft.
“Can you, fair maid, tell me the names of those beautiful stars I see in the dark dome above?” he asked, in a loud, happy voice. “Oh, can they be eyes?”
“Eyes, most noble sir,” replied his companion. “There are no stars so bright.”
“Methought they were diamonds in the sky at first. Eyes like those must belong to some divinity.”
“They do, fair student, and to a divinity well worth worshiping. I have heard it said that men offer themselves as sacrifices upon her altars.”
“Unless my telescope deceives me, I discern a very handsome sacrifice up there, so I suppose the altar must be somewhere in the neighborhood.”
“Not a hand's breadth beneath her eyes,” laughed the Countess, as she fled precipitately up the steps, followed by the jesting student.
“Beware of a divinity in wrath,” came a sweet, clear voice from the balcony, and Anguish called out from his safe retreat, like the boy he was: