In
spite of herself the color rushed into the cheeks which of late
had become so pale, and the hand she gave him trembled as he helped
her from the phaeton.
"I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you again. I've been
oppressed with fear all day," he could not forbear saying, in a
low tone.
"I suppose you naturally felt that you could not trust me," she
replied, averting her face. "I've been spending the day with a
friend."
"Forgive me," he said eagerly. "I seem fated to wound you, but I
wish they might hereafter be the wounds of a friend."
She would not trust herself to look up till she became more composed,
but could not resist the impulse to say: "Do friends give only
wounds?"
Van Berg bit his lip and followed her slowly up the steps.
"I see from your basket," said Miss Burton, kindly, "that you have
been foraging. I hope you had good success."
"Yes, I think I've been successful," replied Ida, who was desperately
sorry that Miss Burton had intercepted her and must see her burning
cheeks. "I have not found roses, as you did, but perhaps these
are more in keeping with my prosaic and material nature;" and she
lifted the cover and offered the fruit.
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