Will you come ?" Marcella hesitated.
"I think so," she said slowly.
There was a pause.

Then she raised her eyes and found his fixed upon her.

A sudden sympathy--of youth, excitement, pleasure--seemed to rise between them.

She had a quick impression of lightness, grace; of an open brow set in curls; of a look more intimate, inquisitive, commanding, than any she had yet met.
"May I speak to you, miss ?" said a voice at the door.
Marcella rose hastily.

Her mother's maid was standing there.
She hurried across the room.
"What is the matter, Deacon ?" "Your mother says, miss," said the maid, retreating into the hall, "I am to tell you she can't come down.