The force of the man's personality seemed to envelope her, to beat down the resistance which, as soon as he was out of her sight, the wiser mind in her built up.
She hesitated--smiled.

And again the smile--or was it the May sun and wind ?--gave her that heightening, that touch of brilliance that a face so delicate must often miss.
Falloden's fastidious sense approved her wholly: the white dress; the hat that framed her brow; the slender gold chains which rose and fell on her gently rounded breast; her height and grace.

Passion beat within him.

He hung on her answer.
"Saturday--impossible! I am not free till Monday, at least.

And what about the groom ?" She looked up.
"I shall parade him to-morrow, livery, horse and all.