Part 17 (1/2)

”_Daisy!_” he stammered. ”_Daisy!_”

But she sprang away as he tried to embrace her, and standing two yards off, tauntingly cried that he did not know what love was, and that no one could ever teach him. Taking up the challenge he started toward her.

She ran away, he in pursuit. She had gone but a few steps when she tripped over an object in the path and went down. In trying to stop himself Roseleaf fell by her side.

”Daisy!” he cried. ”Are you injured?”

She did not answer. In the darkness he saw her lying there so still that he was frightened. He caught her pa.s.sionately in his arms, and knew no better way to bring her to consciousness than to rain kisses on her cheeks. As might be expected this only served to prolong her swoon, which was not a very genuine one, if the truth must be told, and it was some seconds before she opened her eyes and caught him, as one might say, in the act.

”How dare you!” she demanded, shrinking away from him.

”Daisy, my darling!” he answered, his voice tremulous. ”I thought you were dead, and I knew for the first time how dearly, how truly I loved you!”

She laughed, not very heartily. She had hurt herself truly in her fall, and her feminine nerves were jarred.

”You are doing nicely,” she said. ”For a beginner, one could ask nothing better. And now, if you will help to rise, I think it would be more proper.”

”No.” He spoke with force and pa.s.sion. ”You must not think I am trifling. _I love you!_ Yes, I love you! _I wors.h.i.+p you!_”

”I do not see,” she remarked, insisting in spite of him that she must a.s.sume a standing position, ”how you differ in your expressions from the lovers I have read of in novels. It is quite time that we returned to the house. To-morrow, if you like, I will give you another lesson.”

s.h.i.+rley was a picture of utter despair. His new sensations almost overwhelmed him. In one second the dead arteries in his body had leaped into the fullest life. The touch of that young maiden's lips had galvanized him. He could not bear to leave her with those mocking words.

But at that moment a voice was heard in the direction of the residence.

”Miss--Dai-sy! Miss--Dai-sy!”

It was Hannibal, who had returned from a drive with Mr. Fern. They could see him dimly coming across the lawn with the girl's cloak in his hand.

Daisy, with one quick grasp of the fingers that hung close to hers, said good-night to her companion, and started in the direction of the servant. If she intended--as seemed probable--to pretend she was out alone, Roseleaf did not mean to share in that deception, and he followed close behind her.

”Here I am, Hannibal,” called Daisy. ”Ah, you have my coat. It was very kind of you. Has papa come home? I am coming in. I did not think how late it was.”

The negro stopped as he saw the strollers, and knew that they had undoubtedly been together. What more he suspected no one can say with certainty. But he threw the cloak upon the gra.s.s that bordered the pathway and turned on his heel without a word.

”Confound his impudence!” exclaimed Roseleaf, when he had recovered sufficiently from his surprise to speak. ”I have a good notion to follow him and box his ears.”

The soft hand of the girl was on his sleeve in a moment.

”Say nothing to him--_please!_” she answered. ”He--he is very thoughtful for me--of my health--and I was careless. Papa must have sent him.”

The touch on his arm mollified the young man at once. He tried to make out the lines of the pretty face that was so near him and yet so far away.

”We are to study again to-morrow, then,” he said, taking up her statement with an a.s.sumed air of gayety. ”At what hour?”

But she broke away from him abruptly, and ran into the house without a word. Hannibal stood in the doorway and Roseleaf thought he distinguished harsh sounds from the negro's lips; but this seemed so incredible that he conceived his senses at fault.

Looking at his watch the novelist saw that it was still early enough to take a stroll by himself and ponder over his new happiness--or misery, which was it?--under the open sky. It was two hours later that his latchkey turned in the door, and in that time he had resolved either to make Daisy Fern his wife or commit suicide in the most expeditious fas.h.i.+on.

CHAPTER X