“Well, then,” snappishly, “it is Daisie Bell.”
“Well, she is a daisy, and no mistake, and a belle, too—the rarest beauty I ever saw; and I’m bound to know her soon. I’m in love at first sight.”
His cousin frowned, and cried sharply:
“Royall, you shan’t turn that simple girl’s head with your flatteries.”
“I tell you, Lutie, I’m in dead earnest!”
“Nonsense!”
Dallas Bain said nothing, but his deep eyes gleamed with a subtle fire, and he resolved that he, too, would make the acquaintance of the lovely girl whose single earnest glance had thrilled him so deeply that it seemed to him already that she must be his fate.
It was strange how much business the two young men had on Temple Street the next few days, either riding or walking, and always watching eagerly for another glimpse of the fair face that had charmed them so.
Once they saw her again on the porch, and twice at the upper window, and finally they met her coming out of her gate, apparently going for a morning call.
She blushed brightly at their admiring glances, and stepped briskly in front of them, walking along for about two blocks, setting them wild with her graceful carriage, like a young princess, then stopped and went into a house whose occupants they knew as acquaintances of Mrs. Fleming.