IN WHICH EVANS LIGHT BEGINS TO TWINKLE AGAIN

The dowagers were now firmly planted on Olympus.  Along the grass lay the warm strong colours of the evening sun, reddening the pine-stems and yellowing the idle aspen-leaves.  For a moment it had hung in doubt whether the pic-nic could survive the two rude shocks it had received.  Happily the youthful element was large, and when the band, refreshed by chicken and sherry, threw off half-a-dozen bars of one of those irresistible waltzes that first catch the ear, and then curl round the heart, till on a sudden they invade and will have the legs, a rush up Parnassus was seen, and there were shouts and laughter and commotion, as over other great fields of battle the corn will wave gaily and mark the reestablishment of nature’s reign.

How fair the sight!  Approach the twirling couples.  They talk as they whirl.  ‘Fancy the run-away tailor!’ is the male’s remark, and he expects to be admired for it, and is.

’That make-up Countess—­his sister, you know—­didn’t you see her? she turned green,’ says Creation’s second effort, almost occupying the place of a rib.

‘Isn’t there a run-away wife, too?’

‘Now, you mustn’t be naughty!’

They laugh and flatter one another.  The power to give and take flattery to any amount is the rare treasure of youth.

Undoubtedly they are a poetical picture; but some poetical pictures talk dreary prose; so we will retire.

Now, while the dancers carried on their business, and distance lent them enchantment, Rose stood by Juliana, near an alder which hid them from the rest.

‘I don’t accuse you,’ she was saying; ’but who could have done this but you?  Ah, Juley! you will never get what you want if you plot for it.  I thought once you cared for Evan.  If he had loved you, would I not have done all that I could for you both?  I pardon you with all my heart.’

‘Keep your pardon!’ was the angry answer.  ’I have done more for you, Rose.  He is an adventurer, and I have tried to open your eyes and make you respect your family.  You may accuse me of what you like, I have my conscience.’

‘And the friendship of the Countess,’ added Rose.

Juliana’s figure shook as if she had been stung.

‘Go and be happy—­don’t stay here and taunt me,’ she said, with a ghastly look.  ’I suppose he can lie like his sister, and has told you all sorts of tales.’

‘Not a word—­not a word!’ cried Rose.  ’Do you think my lover could tell a lie?’

The superb assumption of the girl, and the true portrait of Evan’s character which it flashed upon Juliana, were to the latter such intense pain, that she turned like one on the rack, exclaiming: 

’You think so much of him?  You are so proud of him?  Then, yes!  I love him too, ugly, beastly as I am to look at!  Oh, I know what you think!  I loved him from the first, and I knew all about him, and spared him pain.  I did not wait for him to fall from a horse.  I watched every chance of his being exposed.  I let them imagine he cared for me.  Drummond would have told what he knew long before—­only he knew there would not be much harm in a tradesman’s son marrying me.  And I have played into your hands, and now you taunt me!’