thought you looked particularly sweet last night, but rather
pale?"

"You never looked at me at all," said Stella before she was aware
of it, and then blushed crimson at the inference of her speech. He
would be able to understand perfectly that she must have been
observing him all the time to be conscious of this.

A gleam of gladness came into his eyes.

"I would like to watch you always openly, if I might," he
whispered. "Your little face is like a flower in its delicate
tints, and your eyes are true and tender and asking so many
questions of life,--and sometimes they are veiled and misty, and
then they look wise and courageous. I am beginning to know all
their changes."

"Then, in that case, monotony will set in," Stella was almost
arch--the day was so glorious!

"I am not afraid of that," he said. "I always know what I want and
what is worth while. I do not value my three matchless pearls the
less because I know their every iridescence--on the contrary, I
grow more fond of them and wear them every night in preference to
any others."

They were silent for a moment after this. He was examining her
minutely with his wise, calm eyes. He was noting the sensitive
curve of the pretty full lips, the tender droop of the set of her
head, the gracious charm of her little regular features, and the