The brilliancy of the flower-hued landscape was subdued under its passive, pale austerity; even the gray and gold of the second terrace seemed dulled and confused.

At any other time Clarence might have lingered over this strange effect, but his eyes followed only a tall figure, in a long striped burnous, that moved gracefully beside the soutaned priest.

As he approached, it turned towards him.
"Ah! here you are.

I just told Father Esteban that you talked of leaving to-morrow, and that he would have to excuse me a few moments while you showed me what you had done to the old garden." She moved beside him, and, with a hesitation that was not unlike a more youthful timidity, slipped her hand through his arm.

It was for the first time, and, without thinking, he pressed it impulsively to his side.