The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1924-04-11

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was too late. With little sob of pas
sion his lips were pressed to hers.
Even as she closed her eyes. the scent
Of the lilies seemed to intoxicate him.
He was back in his place without
conscious movement. His pulses were
quivering, the passion singing In his
blood, the joy OF her faint caress living
proudly in his memory. It had been
the moment of his life, and yet even
now he felt sick at heart with fears,
with the torment of her passiveness.
She had lain there in his arms, he had
felt the thrill Of her body, some quaint
inspiration had told him that she had
sought for joy in that moment and had
not wholly failed. Yet his anxiety was
tumultuous, overwhelming. Then she
spoke, and his heart leaped again. Her
voice was more natural. 1t was not
a voice which he had ever heard be-
fore.
'Give me a cigarette, please and
want to go back"
He leaned over her again, struck a
match with trembling fingers and gave
her the cigarette. She smiled at him
very family.
Please go back now" she begged.
Smoke yourself, take me home slowly
and say nothing
He obeyed, but his knees were shak-
ing when he stood up. Slowly, foot at
a time, they passed from the mesh of
the lilies out into the broad stream.
Almost as they did so, the yellow rim
Of the moon came up over the low hills.
As they turned into their own stream,
the light was strong enough for him to
see her face. She lay there like a
ghost, her eyes half closed, the only
touch Of color in the shining strands
of her beautiful hair. She reused her
self a little as they swung around. He
paused. leaning upon the pole.
you are not angry?' he asked.
No, am not angry" she answered.
"Why should / be? But / cannot talk
to you about it tonight"
They glided to the edge Of the land
ing-stage. A servant appeared and Sc
cured the punt.
'.Is Sir Timothy back yet?' Margaret
inquired.
mot yet, madam"
She turned to Francis.
Please go and have whisky and
soda in the smoking room," she said,
pointing to the open French windows.
II am going to my favorite seat. You
will find me just across the bridge,
there"
He hesitated, filled with passionate
disinclination to leave her side even
for a moment. She seemed to under
stand, but she pointed once more to the
room.
Il should like very much" she
added, 'to be alone for five minutes.
If you win come and find me then
please I"
Francis stepped through the. French
windows into the smoking room,
where all the paraphernalia for salts
flying thirst were set, out upon the
'sideboard. He helped himself to
whisky and soda and drank it absently.
with his eyes fixed upon the clock. In
five minutes he stepped once more
back into the gardens, soft and bril-
liant now in the moonlight. AS he did
SO, he heard the click Of the gate in
the wall, and footsteps. His host. with
Lady Cynthia upon his arm, came into
sight and crossed the lawn towards
him. Francis, filed though his mind
was with other thoughts, paused for a
moment and glanced towards them
curiously. Lady Cynthia seemed for a
moment to have lost all her WEAKNESS.
Her eyes were very bright; she walked
with new spring in her movements.
Even her voice, as she addressed Fran
els, seemed altered.
Sir Timothy has been showing me
some of the wonders of his viIla-do
you call it villa or a palace?" she
asked.
1T is certainly not a palace" Sir
Timothy protested, "and I fear that it
has scarcely the atmosphere of villa.
1t is an attempt to combine certain
ideas Of my own with the requirements
of modern entertainment. Come and
have drink with us, Ledsam."
Il have just had one" Francis re
piled. Mrs. Hilditch is in the rose
garden and am on my way to join
her."
He passed on and the two moved
towards the open French windows. He
crossed the rustic bridge that led into
the flower garden, turned down the
pergola and came to a sudden stand
still before the seat which Margaret
had Indicated. 1t was empty, but in
the corner lay the long-stalked lily
which she had picked in the backwa-
ter. He stood there for a moment.
transfixed. There were other seats
and chairs in the garden, but he knew
before he started his search that 1t was
in vain. She had gone. The flower,
dropping little now, though the stalk
was still wet with the moisture of the
river, seemed to him like her farewell.
Francis was surprised, when he de-
scended for breakfast the next morn