Her cheeks flushed and, laughing low,--as she danced, lightly as a spirit,--she impulsively stretched out her arms to him, in merry invitation--as though challenging him to join her.
The gesture was as spontaneous and as innocent, in its freedom, as had been her offering of the gifts from mountain stream and bush.

But the man--lured into forgetfulness of everything save the wild loveliness of the scene--started toward her.

At his movement, a look of bewildered fear came into her face; but--too startled to control her movements on the instant, and as though impelled by some hidden power--she moved toward him--blindly, unconsciously--her eyes wide with that look of questioning fright.

He had almost reached her when, as though by an effort of her will, she stopped and stood still--gazing into his face--trembling in every limb.

Then, with a low cry, she sank down in a frightened, cowering, pleading attitude, and buried her crimson face in her hands.
As though some unseen hand checked him, the man halted, and the girl's cheeks were not more crimson than his own.
A moment he stood, then a step brought him to her side.