At last, he
knew that she was standing just the other side of the willows, beyond the
little spring. He felt her hidden eyes upon him, but dared not look that
way--feeling sure that if he betrayed himself in too eager haste she would
vanish. Bending forward toward his canvas, he made show of giving close
attention to his work and waited.
For some minutes, she remained concealed; singing low, as though to try
him with temptation. Then, all at once,--as the painter, with poised
brush, glanced from his canvas to the scene,--she stood in full view
beside the spring; her graceful, brown-clad figure framed by the willow's
green. Her arms were filled with wild flowers that she had gathered from
the mountainside--from nook and glade and glen.
"If you will not seek me, there is no use to hide," she called, still
holding her place on the other side of the spring, and regarding him
seriously; and the man felt under her words, and saw in her wide, blue
eyes a troubled question.
"I sought you all the way to your home," he said, gently, "but you would
not let me come near."
"I was frightened," she returned, not lowering her eyes but regarding him
steadily with that questioning appeal.
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