No figment of imagination, but the glowing reality of flesh and blood, awaited him.

She had neither seen nor heard his approach, and he stopped in perplexity.

He had framed a dozen speeches for her ears, yet now he could do no more than stand and gaze, his heart in his eyes.

And it was a vision to enchain, to hold lips speechless.

She was seated with unstudied grace on the edge of the bank, her hands clasped about one knee, her sweet face sobered by thought, her eyes downcast, the long lashes plainly outlined against the clear cheeks.