CHAPTER XII.
"Wave high your torches on each crag and cliff.
Let many lights blaze on our battlements;
Shout to them in the pauses of the storm,
And tell them there is hope."
—Maturings "Bertram."
The evening was cool, and our whole party were gathered in the parlor of the cottage occupied by the Dinsmores and Travillas—games, fancy-work, reading, and conversation making the time fly.
Edward and Zoe had drawn a little apart from the others, and were conversing together in an undertone.
"Suppose we go out and promenade the veranda for a little," he said, presently. "I will get you a wrap and that knit affair for your head that I think so pretty and becoming."
"Crocheted," she corrected; "yes, I'm quite in the mood for a promenade with my husband; and I'm sure the air outside must be delightful. But you won't have to go farther than that stand in the corner for my things."
He brought them, wrapped the shawl carefully about her, and they went out.
Betty, looking after them, remarked aside to her Cousin Elsie, "How lover-like they are still!"
"Yes," Elsie said, with a glad smile: "they are very fond of each other, and it rejoices my heart to see it."