Smiling in the world’s cold face,
Lest it guess my hidden pain,
Weeping in this secret place,
For love’s treasure given in vain.”
When Desha saw the white-robed girl hidden there among the palms, with her face in her hands, sobbing low and bitterly, a passionate longing came to him to take her in his arms and try to comfort her in her tender sorrow, but instead he turned quickly away, praying in his heart that she would not notice his intrusion.
But through her stifled sobs Viola’s ear caught the sound of the entering footstep. She sprang forward to hide herself behind the palm from curious eyes, and at the same moment caught the sound of a heavy fall.
Peering from behind her ambush, she saw that the intruder, in his haste to retreat, had stumbled over a flower-stand and fallen just inside the door. He must have been stunned by the fall, for he lay quite motionless, with his pale, handsome face upturned to the light, and she saw with alarm that it was no other than the object of her painful thoughts—Philip Desha!
CHAPTER XIII.
A SWEET CONFESSION.
Viola darted forward with a stifled cry, and knelt by the silent, recumbent figure.