Beatrix turned with quick compunction.
"Are you tired?" she said, looking at Mrs. Le Roy with the long, curling lashes lifted from her expressive eyes. "I am so sorry. I forgot that it isn't new to you as it is to me. Shall we go in?"
"By no means," answered the lady. "I will sit here and rest, and St. Leon shall be your escort."
She flashed him a little glance, quickly withdrawn.
"Perhaps you wouldn't like," she said.
He laughed, and walked on by her side by way of answer, thinking to himself that she was rather prettier than he had thought at first. The wide sun-hat was tilted carelessly back from the fair low brow with its childish fringe of sunny locks, and the dark eyes with their long curling lashes looked darker still by contrast. A soft color had come into her face, and shy smiles of pleasure hovered around her lips. She looked like a child, with the front of her white overskirt held up in her hands and filled with flowers.
"Do you like flowers?" he asked her.
"I love them," she answered, with a distinct emphasis on the words. "I love them, and I never saw so many and such lovely flowers as you have here."
"Then you ought to enjoy your visit to Eden," he said, pleased at her pleasure in his home, and little thinking how she would enjoy that visit—how all the joy and sorrow of her life would date from these summer hours.
"Yes, I should enjoy it—I know that—only—only—" she said, and paused in confusion.