Whether it was the mysterious attraction or the occult discernment of love that drew him, we cannot tell, but certain it is that when Barret, standing on the upper edge of the cliff, glanced from the eagle—which was watching him suspiciously—downward to the base of the cliff, where the sheep appeared like little buff spots on the green grass, his startled eyes alighted on Milly, lying on her back, contemplating the heavens!
At that distance she might have been a mole or a rabbit, as far as regards Barret’s power to discern her face or figure or occupation went; nevertheless, Barret knew at once that it was she, as his look and colour instantly indicated. There is something in such matters which we cannot understand, and, perhaps, had better not attempt to comprehend. It is sufficient to say that the young man instantly forgot his occupation, and began to descend the cliff by break-neck routes in a way that must have surprised—if not alarmed—the very eagle himself. He even trod some exceedingly rare “specimens” under foot in his haste. In a few minutes he drew near to the spot where Milly lay.
Then he suddenly stopped, for he remembered that she had that morning spoken of her picnic as a very private one; and was it not taking a base, unwarrantable advantage of her, thus to intrude on her privacy? But then—ah! how fatally, if not fortunately, that “but then” often comes in to seal our fate—“fix our flints,” as backwoodsmen are fond of putting it!—but then, was not the opportunity unsought—quite accidental? Would it not be utterly absurd, as well as disingenuous, to pass her and pretend not to see her, with his botanical box full of her own favourite plants and flowers?
Love is proverbially blind. The argument was more than sufficient. He shut his eyes, metaphorically, and rushed upon his fate.
Milly heard him rushing—in reality, walking—and knew his step! Another instance of the amazing—well— She started up in some confusion, just in time to appear as if engaged in viewing with interest the majestic landscape spread out before her. Swooping downwards, and hovering overhead on grand expanded pinions, the eagle seemed to watch with keen interest the result of this meeting.
“Pardon this intrusion, Miss Moss. I really did not know you were in this neighbourhood till a few minutes ago,” said Barret, sitting down on the heather beside her. “I accidentally observed you, and I have been so very fortunate in finding rare plants this morning, that I thought I might venture, just for a few minutes, to interrupt the privacy of your picnic. See, here!” he added, taking off the botanical box and opening it; “just look at all this!”
“It is very kind of you to take so much trouble on my account, Mr Barret,” said Milly, becoming deeply, almost too deeply-interested in the plants. “And, oh, what a splendid specimen of the heliographipod. My dear mother will be so glad to get this, for she is quite as fond of botany as I am.”
“Indeed! Do you expect her soon?”
“Yes; her last letter leads me to expect her very soon now.”
Milly looked up as she said this, but there was an expression on Barret’s face which induced her instantly to recur to scientific research.