“Ex—extremely,” he managed to mutter, touching his suddenly dampened forehead with his handkerchief, and attempting to set his thoughts in some sort of order. He could not; the incoherence held him speechless, dazed, under the magic of this superb young being instinct with the soft fire of life.
Her loveliness, her innocence, the beautiful, direct gaze, the childlike fulness of mouth and contour of cheek and throat, left him spellbound. The very air around them seemed suffused with the vital glow of her youth and beauty; each breath they drew increased their wonder, till the whole rosy universe seemed thrilling and singing at their feet, and they two, love-crowned, alone, saw Time and Eternity flowing like a golden tide under the spell of Paradise.
“Jim!”
The hoarse whisper of Lethbridge shook the vision from him; he turned a flushed countenance to his friend; but Cybele spoke:
“We are very tired sitting here. We would like to take some tea at Sherry’s,” she whispered. “What do you think we had better do? It seems so—so futile to sit here—when we wish to be alone together——”
“You and Henry, too!” gasped Harrow.
“Yes; do you wonder?” She leaned swiftly in front of him; a fragrant breeze stirred his hair. “Lissa, I’m desperately infatuated with Mr. Lethbridge. Do you see any use in our staying here when I’m simply dying to have him all to myself somewhere?”
“No, it is silly. I wish to go, too. Shall we?”
“You need not go,” began Cybele; then stopped, aware of the new magic in her sister’s eyes. “Lissa! Lissa!” she said softly. “You, too! Oh, my dear—my dearest!”
“Dear, is it not heavenly? I—I—was quite sure that if I ever had a good chance to talk to a man I really liked something would happen. And it has.”