and did not think about it; wonderfully good, if, as seemed to her
by far the most probable supposition, he saw it and thought about
it and approved of it. These reflections were cut short by the
appearance of Stephen just outside the porch, silvered about the
head and shoulders with touches of moonlight, that had begun to
creep through the trees.

'Has your trouble anything to do with a kiss on the lawn?' she
asked abruptly, almost passionately.

'Kiss on the lawn?'

'Yes!' she said, imperiously now.

'I didn't comprehend your meaning, nor do I now exactly. I
certainly have kissed nobody on the lawn, if that is really what
you want to know, Elfride.'

'You know nothing about such a performance?'

'Nothing whatever. What makes you ask?'

'Don't press me to tell; it is nothing of importance. And,
Stephen, you have not yet spoken to papa about our engagement?'

'No,' he said regretfully, 'I could not find him directly; and
then I went on thinking so much of what you said about objections,
refusals--bitter words possibly--ending our happiness, that I
resolved to put it off till to-morrow; that gives us one more day
of delight--delight of a tremulous kind.'