"Hang Miss Beaufort!" exclaimed Coventry, with such energy that Jean
broke into a musical laugh, despite her trouble. He joined in it, and,
for an instant they stood looking at one another as if the last barrier
were down, and they were friends indeed. Jean paused suddenly, with the
smile on her lips, the tears still on her cheek, and made a warning
gesture. He listened: the sound of feet mingled with calls and laughter
proved that they were missed and sought.
"That laugh betrayed us. Stay and meet them. I cannot." And Jean darted
out upon the lawn. Coventry followed; for the thought of confronting so
many eyes, so many questions, daunted him, and he fled like a coward.
The sound of Jean's flying footsteps guided him, and he overtook her
just as she paused behind a rose thicket to take breath.
"Fainthearted knight! You should have stayed and covered my retreat.
Hark! they are coming! Hide! Hide!" she panted, half in fear, half in
merriment, as the gay pursuers rapidly drew nearer.
"Kneel down; the moon is coming out and the glitter of your embroidery
will betray you," whispered Jean, as they cowered behind the roses.
"Your arms and hair will betray you. 'Come under my plaiddie,' as the
song says." And Coventry tried to make his velvet cloak cover the white
shoulders and fair locks.
"We are acting our parts in reality now. How Bella will enjoy the thing
when I tell her!" said Jean as the noises died away.
"Do not tell her," whispered Coventry.
"And why not?" she asked, looking up into the face so near her own, with
an artless glance.
"Can you not guess why?"
"Ah, you are so proud you cannot bear to be laughed at."
"It is not that. It is because I do not want you to be annoyed by silly
tongues; you have enough to pain you without that. I am your friend,
now, and I do my best to prove it."
"So kind, so kind! How can I thank you?" murmured Jean. And she
involuntarily nestled closer under the cloak that sheltered both.
Neither spoke for a moment, and in the silence the rapid beating of two
hearts was heard. To drown the sound, Coventry said softly, "Are you
frightened?"
"No, I like it," she answered, as softly, then added abruptly, "But why
do we hide? There is nothing to fear. It is late. I must go. You are
kneeling on my train. Please rise."
"Why in such haste? This flight and search only adds to the charm of the
evening. I'll not get up yet. Will you have a rose, Jean?"
"No, I will not. Let me go, Mr. Coventry, I insist. There has been
enough of this folly. You forget yourself."