“Oh!” was all her answer, as she looked at me for a moment.
“Where are your thoughts?” I asked.
Then she turned, with wide, astonished eyes, coloring softly up to the roots of her hair. My heart gave a sudden leap.
“How can you tell, if I cannot?” she asked.
“May I guess?”
She made a slight inclination of the head, saying nothing. I was then quite sure.
“The second ravine, to the left of the main drive?”
This time she actually started; her color became deeper, and a leaf of the ivory fan snapped between her fingers.
“Let there be no more a secret!” I exclaimed. “Your flowers have brought me your messages; I knew I should find you”—
Full of certainty, I was speaking in a low, impassioned voice. She cut me short by rising from her seat; I felt that she was both angry and alarmed. Fisher, of Philadelphia, jostling right and left in his haste, made his way towards her. She fairly snatched his arm, clung to it with a warmth I had never seen expressed in a ball-room, and began to whisper in his ear. It was not five minutes before he came to me, alone, with a very stern face, bent down, and said:—