But she could only draw back and put him gently aside. It was as if he came with all his stored-up knowledge—his lore of plants and fossils, crystals and stars—and poured it all out in a caress. She could almost have cried out for help. And after hurrying her through the wonders of the universe in this fashion, he would suddenly catch her up in his arms, and whirl her off in a passionate intoxication of the senses till she woke at last like a castaway on an island, hardly knowing where or what she was. She laughed, but she could have found it in her heart to weep. Could this be love? In this strong man, whose life till now had been all study and work, the stored-up feeling burst vehemently forth, now that it had found an outlet. But why did it leave her so cold?
When Peer came in from the stables, humming a tune, he found her in the sitting-room, dressed in a dark woollen dress with a red ribbon round her throat.
He stopped short: “By Jove—how that suits you, Merle!”
She let her eyes linger on him for a moment, and then came up and threw her arms round his neck.
“Did he have to go to the stables all alone today?”
“Yes; I’ve been having a chat with the young colt.”
“Am I unkind to you, Peer?”
“You?—you!”
“Not even if I ask you to drive me in to see mother?”
“Why, that’s the very thing. The new horse I bought yesterday from Captain Myhre should be here any minute—I’m just waiting for it.”