if perchance he might hear the movements of the girls, or hear a
word in Irene's voice. Once he did hear her; she called to Olga,
laughingly; and at the sound he quivered, his breath stopped.

The clouds parted; a fresh breeze unveiled the summer blue. Piers
stood at the window, watching; and at length he had his reward; the
cousins came out and walked along the garden paths, conversing
intimately. At one moment, Olga gave a glance up at his window, and
he darted back, fearful of having been detected. Were they talking
of him? How would Miss Derwent speak of him? Did he interest her in
the least?

He peeped again. Irene was standing with her hands linked at the
back of her head, seeming to gaze at a lovely cloud above the great
elm tree. This attitude showed her to perfection. Piers felt sick
and dizzy as his eyes fed upon her form.

At an impulse as sudden as irresistible, he pushed up the sash.

"Miss Hannaford! It's going to be fine, you see."

The girls turned to him with surprise.

"Shall you have a walk after lunch?" he continued.

"Certainly," replied Olga. "We were just talking about it."

A moment's pause--then:

"Would you let me go with you?"