him, but she eluded him and darted aside.

He gave a great sigh of pain.

Slowly she came back and bent over and over of her own accord--so low
that at last she was level with his face. And slowly her red lips
melted into his young lips in a long, strange kiss.

Then, before Paul could grasp her, or murmur one pleading word, she
was gone.

And again he found himself alone, intoxicated with emotion under the
night sky studded with stars.




CHAPTER VI


Rain, rain, rain! That was not an agreeable sound to wake to when one
had not had more than a few hours' sleep, and one's only hope of the
day was to see one's lady again.

So Paul thought despairingly. What would happen? No lake, or mountain
climb, was possible--but see her he must. After that kiss--that
divine, enthralling, undreamed-of kiss. What did it mean? Did she
love him? He loved her, that was certain. The poor feeble emotion he
had experienced for Isabella was completely washed out and gone now.