"No, dear. Mrs. Barrymore is very kind to me. George, you haven't kissed me yet."
She was afraid that curious eyes might be upon us, and felt that the parts we had assumed must be played thoroughly. I think the color deepened in my own cheeks as I bent and touched her forehead with my lips. I know hers did. For me it was a lover's kiss, the first I had ever given.
"There is danger, but I am not sure what it is," she whispered, as we stood close together. And then, drawing me to a chair, she said aloud: "Tell me all you have been doing, George."
I concocted a story of my surveying work, and managed to be the lover too. If we had an audience I fancy the deception was complete.
We were not left long together. Mrs. Barrymore came back with an apology, and I departed, thinking a great deal more about Zena than of any mystery there might be about her employer. Yet, from thinking of her, I began to fear for her. What danger could there be at Lantern House?
There was some mystery—the professor had said as much—but surely he would not let his granddaughter run any risk? Still there was danger enough for Zena to take precaution that our deception should not be discovered, even to the extent of allowing me to kiss her. I passed a restless night, and was in Richmond next day long before it was possible for me to go to the house.
When I did go, I was at least an hour before my time.
I was shown into the same room as on the previous day. Mrs. Barrymore was there alone.
"You are early," she said with a smile. "Lovers are ever impatient. Did you meet Mary?"
"No. Is she out?"