Miss Daphne was flushed and a little snappish when spoken to; and the young man looked embarrassed.

But presently he saw that they gravitated to each other, and that, whatever chance combination might be formed during the walk, it always ended for a time in the flight ahead of the two figures, the girl in the rose-coloured sash and the tall handsome youth.

Towards the end of the walk they became separated from the rest of the party, and only arrived at the little station just in time before the cars started.
On this occasion again, they had been clearly arguing and disagreeing; and Daphne had the air of a ruffled bird, her dark eyes glittering, her mouth set in the obstinate lines that Boyson knew by heart.

But again they sat together in the car, and talked and sparred all the way home; while Mrs.Verrier, in a corner of the carriage, shut her hollow eyes, and laid her thin hands one over the other, and in her purple draperies made a picture _a la Melisande_ which was not lost upon her companions.
Boyson's mind registered a good many grim or terse comments, as occasionally he found himself watching this lady.

Scarcely a year since that hideous business at Niagara, and here she was in that extravagant dress! He wished his sister would not make a friend of her, and that Daphne Floyd saw less of her.