"Your experience is that most people find it a great effort to speak
pleasantly to you, I suppose?"
"Again I point out to you that our talk is not of most people, but of
you."
"Oh! And is there something particularly original about me? This grows
exciting."
"I, for one, think that beauty is always original," said Canning, with
sufficient impersonality, but no more.... "Still, we know, of course,
that unaided it cannot drive the blues of others very far."
"After the sugar-coating comes the pill. Tell me in what way I have been
deficient."
"Ah, that's yet to learn. To be charming by habit is an agreeable thing;
but you haven't convinced me yet, you know, that you know how to
be kind."
Her lashes fell before his masculine gaze; she did not answer. About
them was the sweet hush of the night. She was aware that he had moved
nearer upon their bench; aware, too, of a faster beating of her heart.
And then, quite suddenly, a new voice spoke, so close that both started
sharply; a rather shy voice, yet one possessed of a certain vivid
quality of life.
"I beg your pardon--but _is_ this Miss Heth?"
They turned as upon one string. At the door of the summer-house stood
the blurred figure of a man, bareheaded and tall. The light being
chiefly behind him, he showed only in thin silhouette, undistinguishable
as to age, character, and personal pulchritude. Stares passed between
the dim trio.
"I am Miss Heth."
"Could you possibly let me speak to you--for a moment, Miss Heth? I
realize, of course, that it's a great intrusion but--"
Canning started up, annoyed. Carlisle, without knowing why, was
instantly conscious of a subtle sinking of the heart: some deep instinct
rang a warning in the recesses of her being, as if crying out: "This man
means trouble." She glanced at Mr. Canning with a kind of little shrug,
suggesting doubt, and some helplessness; and he, taking this for
sufficient authority, assumed forthwith the male's protectorship.
"Yes? What is it that you wish?"
The tall stranger was observed to bow slightly.
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