She was weeping, and did not notice him until he laid his hand gently upon her smooth, bare arm, and said, in a sympathizing tone:
“Why do you weep, Miss Dupont?”
With a start of affright and a haughty gesture, she moved away from him, for his familiar touch angered her.
Hastily wiping her eyes, she said, coldly:
“Really, Mr. Moulton, I don’t know as I can explain to you my feelings. Sadness, I presume, is one cause of my tears.”
“And what could possibly render Miss Dupont sad? Methought her life was as fair and bright as earth’s choicest gifts could make it,” he said, with a voice which he tried to make tender.
“If you please,” she replied, “we will not discuss that subject now, Mr. Moulton.”
She turned abruptly to leave the balcony, for she deemed him rude to intrude himself upon her when she was struggling with her sad feelings.
He quickly caught her hand, detaining her, while he exclaimed:
“Stay, Miss Dupont; do not leave me so, for I have something to say to you.”