Piers stood at the window, watching; and at length he had his reward; the cousins came out and walked along the garden paths, conversing intimately.

At one moment, Olga gave a glance up at his window, and he darted back, fearful of having been detected.

Were they talking of him?
How would Miss Derwent speak of him?
Did he interest her in the least?
He peeped again.

Irene was standing with her hands linked at the back of her head, seeming to gaze at a lovely cloud above the great elm tree.

This attitude showed her to perfection.