He could not
be mistaken; he knew the horses well enough, and there was old Wallis
on the box and young Wallis on the path.
He stopped breathlessly, and then tipped on cautiously, keeping the
encircling line of bushes between him and the carriage. And then he
saw through the leaves that there was some one in the place, and that
it was she. He stopped, confused and amazed. He could not comprehend
it. She must have driven to the place immediately on his departure.
But why? And why to that place of all others?
He parted the bushes with his hands, and saw her lovely and sweet-
looking as she had always been, standing under the box bush beside the
bench, and breaking off one of the green branches. The branch parted
and the stem flew back to its place again, leaving a green sprig in
her hand. She turned at that moment directly toward him, and he could
see from his hiding-place how she lifted the leaves to her lips, and
that a tear was creeping down her cheek.
Then he dashed the bushes aside with both arms, and with a cry that no
one but she heard sprang toward her.
Young Van Bibber stopped his mail phaeton in front of the club, and
went inside to recuperate, and told how he had seen them driving home
through the Park in her brougham and unchaperoned.
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