enthusiastic young Beaux Arts.

"Yes," she said with a delighted sigh that was like the slide of the
water over smooth pebbles, "yes, that is what I want it to be, only I
couldn't seem to see how it would rest right away. It is just as I
dreamed it and,"--then she looked at him with startled jeweled eyes.
"Where did I see it--where did you--what does it mean?" she demanded, and
the flush that rose up to the waves of her hair was the reflection of the
one that had stained his face before he came across the stream. "I think
I'm frightened," she added with a little nervous laugh.

"Please don't be--because I am, too," he answered. And instinctively,
like two children, they drew close together. They both gazed at the
specter sketch spread before them and drew still nearer to each other.

"I have been planning it for days," he said in almost a whisper. Her
small pink ear was very near his lips and his breath agitated two little
gold tendrils that blew across it. "I want to build it before I go away,
it is needed here for the hunting. I came out and made the sketch from
right here an hour ago. I came back--I must have come back to have
it--verified." He laughed softly, and for just a second his fingers
rested against hers on the edge of the sketch.

"I'm still frightened," she said, but a tippy little smile coaxed at the
corners of her mouth. She turned her face away from his eyes that had
grown--disturbing.

"I'm not," he announced boldly. "Beautiful wild things are flying loose
all over the world and why shouldn't we capture one for ourselves. Do you
mind--please don't!"