impassioned face was turned to him, and a resolve that the love he read so plainly in her eyes should be held as the most sacred thing in his life, which should henceforth be kept clean and pure, a fitting temple to enshrine so white a flame.
"And you are going to leave me, Atalanta?"
"Yes."
"May I come after you?"—she smiled,—"and bring you back with me,"—she blushed deliciously and cast down her eyes,—"to stay forever?"
He was close beside her now, and stood with outstretched arms looking at her with an expression which sent the terrified blood back in a flood upon her heart.
"Come!" he murmured.
She sprang to her feet with an instinct of flight, and glided from him toward the door. The sudden motion jarred the room, and from the wall an orange dropped from the branch she had hung there weeks ago. It rolled towards Margaret and under her fleet feet, which tripped on the treacherous fruit. She stumbled, and would have fallen, but that a pair of arms was ready to uphold her. A little cry, half of fright, half of love, escaped her pale lips as she felt herself folded to a heart beating quite as fast as her own. She struggled to be free for one
