They could see the stiff box-borders, the winding paths, the queerly shaped flower-beds, and, beyond, the lake, like a silver mirror, reflecting the calm loveliness of the full moon.
Garth spread the rug on the coping, and Jane sat down.

He stood beside her, one foot on the coping, his arms folded across his chest, his head erect.

Jane had seated herself sideways, turning towards him, her back to an old stone lion mounting guard upon the parapet; but she turned her head still further, to look down upon the lake, and she thought Garth was looking in the same direction.
But Garth was looking at Jane.
She wore the gown of soft trailing black material she had worn at the Overdene concert, only she had not on the pearls or, indeed, any ornament save a cluster of crimson rambler roses.

They nestled in the soft, creamy old lace which covered the bosom of her gown.

There was a quiet strength and nobility about her attitude which thrilled the soul of the man who stood watching her.