DAPHNE
It was only an hour since Daphne had been overtaken. Few words had sufficed for understanding, and Bertuccio had looked away.
"My only fear was that I should find you turned into a laurel tree," said Apollo. "I shall always be afraid of that."
"Apollo," said Daphne irrelevantly, holding out to him a bunch of purple grapes in the palm of her hand, "there is a practical side to all this. People will have to know, I am afraid. I must write to my sister."
"I have reason to think that the Countess Accolanti will not be displeased," he answered. There was a queer little look about his mouth, but Daphne asked for no explanation.
"There is your father," he suggested.
"Oh!" said Daphne. "He will love you at once. His tastes and mine are very much alike."
The lover-god smiled, quite satisfied.
"You chose the steepest road of all to-day,
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