She stood up, tall and slim, and the subdued light glowed more deeply in her eyes. The eyes of the visionary, who sees great things and dreams great dreams, and, alas! how often, breaks a heart that of its very fineness could only do or die.
Yet better, how much better, to hope and dare and die upon the heights, than linger content in the warm, snug valley of little joys and little sorrows!
And then across her dreams broke the sound of a sleepy voice from the room behind her.
"If you stay out there any longer, Meryl, you will grow wings and fly away. Do be rational enough to come in and go to bed."
"I thought you were asleep, Di. I'm sure I haven't been keeping you awake."
"No, but you are doing so now; and, besides, it's so imbecile to stand out there and stare at the stars."
"I've been thinking hard, Di." She came in and sat on the little gilt bedstead, with its dainty hangings, and looked lovingly at the pretty head on the lace-decked pillow.
"That's nothing new. If you hadn't been thinking hard it would be worth while mentioning it," and there was half a pout and half a smile on the winsome mouth.
"But there was more object than usual to-night. Listen. If I persuade father to take me up to Rhodesia with him, will you come too?..."
"O, golly!... to be eaten by lions, and tigers, and savages, and elephants, and things!..."