"No," he returned, in a low voice, and looked away from her with a moody brow.
"That is strange," mused Iris. "I should think that you would inspire her with a love for it."
"If it is not in one's soul, how can you expect to find it there," he retorted, rather bitterly. "No, Dorothy has no love for poetry, flowers, or birds, nor, in fact, anything that other young girls care for. I imagine she would quite as soon prefer a garden filled with hollyhocks and morning-glories to the daintiest flowers that ever bloomed. Alas, there are few tastes in common between us!"
Chapter XV.
"What a pity!" sighed Iris, and her hand crept sympathizingly into his. The gloomy look deepened on his face.
"Do you believe that there is a true mate for each heart, Iris?" he asked, suddenly.
"I might better ask you that question," she answered, evasively. "You are engaged—you seem to have found a heart that is the mate for your own."
"Do you think there is such a thing as making a mistake, even in so grave a matter?" he asked, huskily, "and that those who discover their error should keep on straying further and further in the wrong path? Do you not believe that there should be the most ardent love between those who wed—and that where there is a lack of it the two should separate, and each go his or her own way?"
Iris drooped her head; but ere she could reply—utter the words that sprang to her lips—an exclamation of the deepest annoyance, mingled with a fierce imprecation, was ground out from between Kendal's teeth.
There, directly in the path before them, stood Alice Lee.