I have seen many climes, bright skies, and glittering seas, where the spice islands lie." As he spoke, in words that were full of wild, untutored eloquence, he saw the young girl's eyes riveted upon him.

Sure of having roused her attention, he bowed, apologized for his intrusion, and left her.
Had Dora been like other mothers, Beatrice would have related this little adventure and told of the handsome young traveler who had been in strange climes.

As it was, knowing her mother's utter dread of all men--her fear lest her children should ever love and marry--Beatrice never named the subject.

She thought much of Hugh Fernely--not of him himself, but of the world he had spoken about--and she hoped it might happen to her to meet him again.
"If we had some one here who could talk in that way," she said to herself, "the Elms would not be quite so insupportable." Two days afterward, Beatrice, wandering on the sands, met Hugh Fernely.
She saw the startled look of delight on his face, and smiled at his pleasure.
"Pray forgive me," he said.

"I--I can not pass you without one word.
Time has seemed to me like one long night since I saw you last." He held in his hand some beautiful lilies of the valley--every little white warm bell was perfect.