The child that had thus brought loaves of bread to a governor's table spread beneath a sugar-tree, with mountains round about, had been no purer of heart, no more innocent of rustic coquetry.

When her apron was filled she would have returned to the house, but Haward would not have it so.

"They will call when dinner is ready," he said.

"I wish to talk to you, little maid.

Let us go sit in the shade of the willow yonder." It was almost a twilight behind the cool green rain of the willow boughs.
Through that verdant mist Haward and Audrey saw the outer world but dimly.
"I had a fearful dream last night," said Audrey.