We were idling away one hot afternoon together in a punt up a romantic and picturesque backwater of the Nene. Behind us the ground rose, covered thickly with beeches and hawthorn. A small weir, with a few eel baskets of brown osier, closed in the creek. The water was still, and around us masses of white water-lily studded the surface with silver stars. Beneath the deep emerald leaves, perch and dace darted from time to time, or lazily sucked in some drowning moth or wandering fly.
The atmosphere was stifling in the sun, yet beneath the protecting willow to which I had chained the punt there was a pleasant soothing breeze that kept the gnats away and made the afternoon quite enjoyable.
Vera looked ravishing. I had no idea that the woman upon whom I had to keep observation was so young and beautiful. Her broad white hat, set back on her shapely head, threw out her copper hair and deep-blue eyes. The olive silk that clung round her firm shoulders and waist outlined the broad curve of her limbs and fell in soft draperies about her little feet. The lace sleeves through which her white arms showed were a pretty idea, but far too tempting for a bachelor. I had found her not averse to flirtation, otherwise I should not have spoken as I did.
“Vera, you are a pretty woman!” I said; “yours are the longest eye-lashes, I think, I ever saw! Your complexion is simply faultless, while the crisp little curls of brown around your forehead take a copper hue in the warm sun I have never yet seen out of Titian.”
“Why do you flatter me so?” she asked, laughing and puckering up her rosy lips.
She was lolling upon the cushions at the end of the punt, having flung down her novel heedlessly.
“I suppose I may be permitted to admire you,” I said, smiling. “Parisians are connoisseurs of beauty. You do not want to read? Then talk to me. Shall I tell you your voice is as sweet as a carillon of silvery chimes? That your presence is as graceful and bewitching as the vision of an houri? Well, I won’t be idiotic, but as sensible as a man can be when he has for companion the most charming woman in England.”
“How ridiculously you talk!” she exclaimed, with a merry mischievous smile. “Remember, I’ve been married two years—and my husband—I——”
“You are not devoted to him, Vera.”