'
They walked out again, and yet again, and Narcissus' first impressions
deepened. He had his theories, too; and, surely, here was the woman! He
was not in love--at least, not with her, but with her fitness for his
theory.
They sat by a solitary woodside, beneath a great elm tree. The hour was
full of magic, for though the sun had set, the smile of her day's joy
with him had not yet faded from the face of earth. It was the hour
vulgarised in drawing-room ballads as the 'gloaming.' They sat very near
to each other; he held her hand, toying with it; and now and again their
eyes met with the look that flutters before flight, that says, 'Dare I
give thee all? Dare I throw my eyes on thine as I would throw myself on
thee?' And then, at last, came the inevitable moment when the eyes of
each seem to cry 'O yes!' to the other, and the gates fly back; all the
hidden light springs forth, the woods swim round, and the lips meet with
a strange shock, while the eyes of the spirit close in a lapping dream
of great peace.
If you are not ready to play the man, beware of a kiss such as the lips
of little Hesper, that never knew to kiss before, pressed upon the mouth
of Narcissus. It sent a chill shudder through him, though it was so
sweet, for he could feel her whole life surging behind it; and was the
kiss he had given her for it such a kiss as that? But he had spoken much
to her of his ideas of marriage; she knew he was sworn for ever against
that.
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