He had
yet to deliver the message from Captain Blood, and this, he thought,
would be his opportunity. But Miss Bishop had retired for the
night, and Lord Julian must curb his impatience - it amounted by
now to nothing less - until the morrow.
Very early next morning, before the heat of the day came to render
the open intolerable to his lordship, he espied her from his window
moving amid the azaleas in the garden. It was a fitting setting
for one who was still as much a delightful novelty to him in
womanhood as was the azalea among flowers. He hurried forth to
join her, and when, aroused from her pensiveness, she had given
him a good-morrow, smiling and frank, he explained himself by the
announcement that he bore her a message from Captain Blood.
He observed her little start and the slight quiver of her lips,
and observed thereafter not only her pallor and the shadowy rings
about her eyes, but also that unusually wistful air which last night
had escaped his notice.
They moved out of the open to one of the terraces, where a pergola
of orange-trees provided a shaded sauntering space that was at once
cool and fragrant.
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