She
has just come and doesn't even know that you are expected. It is 'Little
Lees.'"
A rustle of silken skirts, a faint odor of blossoms, a footfall, a
presence, and Eloise St. Vrain stood before us. Eloise, with her golden
hair, the girlish roundness of her fair face, her big dark eyes and
their heavy lashes and clear-penciled brows, her dainty coloring, and
beyond all these the beauty of womanly strength written in her
countenance.
Her dress was a sort of pale heliotrope, with trimmings of a deeper
shade, and in her hands she carried a big bunch of June roses. She
stopped short, and the pink cheeks grew pale, but in an instant the rich
bloom came back to them again.
"I tried to find you, Eloise. The boys have just come in almost
unannounced," Mat said.
"You didn't mean to hide from us, of course," Beverly broke in, as he
took the girl's hand, his face beaming with genuine joy at meeting her
again.
Eloise met him with the same frank delight with which she always greeted
him. Everything seemed so simple and easy for these two when they came
together. Little Blue Flower was right about them. They seemed to fit
each other.
But when she turned to me her eyes were downcast, save for just one
glance.
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