They had reached a clump of firs. Without knowing how it happened she found herself in his arms. There were both tears and laughter in her eyes as her lips turned slowly to meet his.
"The first time since we were kiddies on the Victorian, sweetheart," he told her.
"Yes, it's true. I loved you then. I love you now.... Jack, boy, I'm just the happiest girl alive."
A mist-like veil of old rose hung above the mountain tops. Hand in hand they watched the rising sun pierce through it and flood the crotches of the hills with God's splendid canvases. It was a part of love's egoism that all this glory of the young day seemed an accompaniment to the song of joy that pulsed through them.
Later they came to earth and babbled the nonsense that is the highest wisdom of lovers. They built air castles and lived in them, seeing life through a poetic ambient as a long summer day in which they should ride and work and play together.
At last she remembered Lady Farquhar and began to laugh.
"We must go down and tell her at once, Jack."
He agreed. "Yes, let's go back and have it out. If you like you may go to your room and I'll tackle her alone."
"I'd rather go with you."
He delighted in her answer.