not know, he could not think--only they were eyes--eyes--eyes.

The letter to Isabella Waring remained unfinished that night.




CHAPTER II


Paul's head ached a good deal next morning and he was disinclined to
rise. However, the sun blazed in at his windows, and a bird sang in a
tree.

His temper was the temper of next day--sodden, and sullen, and
ashamed. He even resented the sunshine.

But what a beautiful creature he looked, as later he stepped into a
boat for a row on the lake! His mother, the Lady Henrietta, had truly
reason to be proud of him. So tall and straight, and fair and
strong. And at the risk of causing a second fit among some of the
critics, I must add, he probably wore silk socks, and was "beautifully
groomed," too, as all young Englishmen are of his class and age. And
how supple his lithe body seemed as he bent over the oars, while the
boat shot out into the blue water.

The mountains were really very jolly, he thought, and it was not too
hot, and he was glad he had come out, even though he had eaten no
breakfast and was feeling rather cheap still. Yes, very glad.