"What a tragic little voice! You really are done up. I couldn't help
dropping in for a minute; but of course if you say so I'll be off." She
was removing her long gloves and he took her hands and drew her close.
"Only take off your veil, and let me see you."

A quiver of resistance ran through her: he felt it and dropped her
hands.

"Please don't tease. I never could bear it," she stammered, drawing
away.

"Till to-morrow, then; that is, if the dress-makers permit."

She forced a laugh. "If I showed myself now you might not come back
to-morrow. I look perfectly hideous--it was so hot and they kept me so
long."

"All to make yourself more beautiful for a man who's blind with your
beauty already?"

The words made her smile, and moving nearer she bent her head and stood
still while he undid her veil. As he put it back their lips met, and his
look of passionate tenderness was incense to her.

But the next moment his expression passed from worship to concern.
"Dear! Why, what's the matter? You've been crying!"

She put both hands to her hat in the instinctive effort to hide her
face. His persistence was as irritating as her mother's.