"I was afraid you'd gone for good," acknowledged the young man, gravely. He took up his gun and stepped out upon the crest of the dam.
"You must look where you go," she admonished, "or you will fall—splash!" She laughed delightedly at the thought, and he saw that her eyes had a way of wrinkling almost shut in the merriest fashion. He balanced upon the slippery surface of the waterway with the stream up to his ankles.
"Will you promise not to whisk yourself away if I look down?" he asked.
"Yes."
But even with this assurance he found it difficult to remove his eyes from her even for the brief instant necessary for a safe passage; and when at last he stood beside her he felt an irresistible desire to seize her gently so that she could not escape.
"Well?" she said at length, and he found he had been standing stock-still staring at her for several seconds.
"Excuse me! I really took you for a wood-nymph. I'm not sure yet—you see the place is so well suited. It—it was a natural mistake."
She dropped her eyes shyly and turned away at his look.
"It is only our swimming-pool. There have been no fairies here since I was a very little girl. But once upon a time there were many—oh, a great many." It was impossible to describe the odd, sweet sound her tongue gave to the English words. It was not a dialect, hardly an accent, just a delicious, hesitating mannerism born of unfamiliarity.
"Did you ever see them?"