"You see I did as you asked me to," she said.

"Yes: I couldn't wait," he answered smiling. After a
moment he added: "Only I wish it hadn't had to be at
a ball."

"Yes, I know." She met his glance comprehendingly.
"But after all--even here we're alone together, aren't
we?"

"Oh, dearest--always!" Archer cried.

Evidently she was always going to understand; she
was always going to say the right thing. The discovery
made the cup of his bliss overflow, and he went on
gaily: "The worst of it is that I want to kiss you and I
can't." As he spoke he took a swift glance about the
conservatory, assured himself of their momentary privacy,
and catching her to him laid a fugitive pressure
on her lips. To counteract the audacity of this proceeding
he led her to a bamboo sofa in a less secluded part
of the conservatory, and sitting down beside her broke
a lily-of-the-valley from her bouquet. She sat silent, and
the world lay like a sunlit valley at their feet.

"Did you tell my cousin Ellen?" she asked presently,
as if she spoke through a dream.

He roused himself, and remembered that he had not