1/30 CHAPTER XV. The eyes that love us are sharp; the heart that sets us up for its idol is quick to feel every variation. Reginald was changed--vaguely, almost indefinably, but certainly changed. He was more silent than of old, and had got a habit of falling into long brown studies in the midst of the most interesting conversation. He took almost as little interest in the bridal paraphernalia as Rose, and sauntered lazily about the grounds, or lay on the tender new grass under the trees smoking endless cigars, and looking dreamily up at the endless patches of bright blue sky, and thinking, thinking--of what? |