Come, co'nnle, I won't ask yo' to forget this; mo', I'll even believe yo' MEANT it, but yo' 'll promise me yo' won't speak of it again as long as yo' are with the company and Aunt Miranda and me! There mustn't be more--there mustn't even SEEM to be more--between us." "But then I may hope ?" he said, eagerly grasping her hand.
"I promise nothing, for yo' must not even have THAT excuse for speaking of this again, either from anything I do or may seem to do." She stopped, released her hand, as her eyes were suddenly fixed on the distance.

Then she said with a slight smile, but without the least embarrassment or impatience: "There's Mr.Champney coming here now.

I reckon he's looking to see if that wreath is safe." Courtland looked up quickly.

He could see the straw hat of the young Englishman just above the myrtle bushes in a path intersecting the avenue.

A faint shadow crossed his face.