THE SCANDALOUS RAMBLE
the river there are millions of little white flowers floating on the water. I don't know the names of them, but they're fine. . . . May I carry that branch of blossom?"
As he took it their hands touched momentarily. . . and there came another of those significant gaps.
"Look at those clouds," said Lewisham abruptly remembering the remark he had been about to make and waving the white froth of blackthorn. "And look at the blue between them."
"It's perfectly splendid. Of all the fine weather the best had been kept for now. My last day. My very last day."
And off these two young people went together in a highly electrical state—to the infinite astonishment of Mrs. Frobisher, who was looking out of the attic window—stepping out manfully and finding the whole world lit and splendid for their entertainment. The things they discovered and told each other that afternoon down by the river!—that spring was wonderful, young leaves beautiful, bud scales astonishing things, and clouds dazzling and stately!— with an air of supreme originality! And their naïve astonishment to find one another in agreement upon these novel delights! It seemed to them quite outside the play of accident that they should have met each other.
They went by the path that runs among the trees along the river bank, and she must needs repent and wish to take the lower one, the towing path, before they had gone three hundred yards. So Lewisham
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