He stood looking down, and she smiled up.
"Cara!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here--alone?"
"Seeking freedom," she responded calmly. "It's not so good as the hobo's
fire beside the track, but it's better than four walls. The moon has
been wonderful, Sir Gray Eyes--as bright and dark as life; radiant a
little while and hidden behind clouds a great deal. And the wind has
been whispering like a troubadour to the tree-tops."
"And you," he interrupted severely, dropping on the earth at her feet
and propping himself on one elbow, "have been sitting in the chilling
air, with your throat uncovered and probably catching cold."
"What a matter-of-fact person it is!" she laughed. "I didn't appoint you
my physician, you know."
"But your coming alone out here in these woods, and so late!" he
expostulated.
"Why not?" She looked frankly up at him. "I am not afraid."
"I am afraid for you." He spoke seriously.
"Why?" she inquired again.
He knelt beside her, looking directly into her eyes. "For many reasons,"
he said. "But above all else, because I love you."
The fingers of her clasped hands tightened until they strained, and she
looked straight away across the clearing. The moon was bright now, and
the thought-furrow showed deep between her brows, but she said nothing.
The tree-tops whispered, and the girl shivered slightly. He bent forward
and folded the cape across her throat. Still she did not move.
"Cara, I love you," he repeated insistently.
"Don't--I can't listen." Her voice was one of forced calm. Then, turning
suddenly, she laid her hand on his arm. It trembled violently under her
touch. "And, oh, boy," she broke out, with a voice of pent-up vibrance,
"don't you see how I want to listen to you?"
He bent forward until he was very close, and his tone was almost fierce
in its tense eagerness.
"You want to! Why?"
Again a tremor seized her, then with the sudden abandon of one who
surrenders to an impulse stronger than one's self, she leaned forward
and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, clutching him almost wildly.
Her eyes glowed close to his own.
"Because I love you, too," she said. Then, with a break in her voice:
"Oh, you knew that! Why did you make me say it?"
While the stars seemed to break out in a chorus above him, he found his
arms about her, and was vaguely conscious that his lips were smothering
some words her lips were trying to shape. Words seemed to him just then
so superfluous.