But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes
Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried—”
As Olive spoke slowly she drew her flowers from her basket, dropping them to the ground and moving gradually backwards toward the entrance to the stage. Then, when she had recited the last line of her speech, she made a quick bow and before her audience realized that her speech was actually over, had disappeared.
Whether the applause that followed after her equalled Winifred’s and Gerry’s she did not know and at the moment did not care. For Jean was waiting only a few yards away and Olive rushed to her at once.
“Oh, Jean dear,” she said half laughing and half crying, “I didn’t see? It can’t be true! Oh, why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because we did not want you to be too excited,” Jean answered, trying to speak calmly, “but oh, Olive, please hurry, for Jack wishes you to come to her at once.”
CHAPTER XXV
“JACK”
Under a tall linden tree shedding its yellowy perfumed blossoms about her a young girl stood alone, waiting. She was pale and fragile and leaned slightly on a cane; her hair was a deep bronze, the color of copper in the sunlight, and her gray eyes, were now unusually dark with emotion. She was evidently trying to appear less disturbed than she felt, for her head was tilted back the least bit and her lips were held close together; indeed, her whole attitude suggested a strong effort at self-control.
“Jack!” Two figures came running across the lawn entirely unconscious of the number of persons about them, and the girl in the costume of an English shepherdess arrived at the desired goal first.