Dora never noted them; she thought only of the morning past and the morning to come, while Ronald dreamed of her almost unconsciously.

She had been a bright feature in a bright day; his artistic taste had been gratified, his eyes had been charmed.

The pretty picture haunted him, and he remembered with pleasure that on the morrow he should see the shy, sweet face again.

No thought of harm or wrong even entered his mind.

He did not think that he had been imprudent.