He touched a rose that hung just above her head almost dropping on her hair.
"May I have it ?" he asked in a low tone.
Their eyes met.

The girl flushed deeply, and then grew pale.

She broke off the flower and gave it to him,--then turned to Lorimer to say good-bye.

They left her then, standing under the porch, shading her brow with one hand from the glittering sunlight, as she watched them descending the winding path to the shore, accompanied by her lather, who hospitably insisted on seeing them into their boat.

They looked back once or twice, always to see the slender, tall white figure standing there like an angel resting in a bower of roses, with the sunshine flashing on a golden crown of hair.