“ Coming out of the darkness and the wind, into the brilliant hall, he was a little dazzled, and for the moment was at a loss for something to say to Indiana. He stared at the brilliant little figure standing near the fire, the flames reflecting red lights from her dress on her laughing face and her yellow hair, with the Persian rug for a background. "An Arabian night's vision," he thought.
"It's a tedious trip," said Indiana. "You must be starved to death."
"I am so interested in my surroundings, that I can plead no sense of fatigue," answered Lord Canning. ”

“ Indiana made a sudden cut to the left and turned out, after crossing a bridge, on another narrow road overlooking a deep ravine. From its depths they still heard the voice of the stream, growing into an angry murmur. After a while, on the right, rose a high, craggy mountain-wall, with sparse foliage growing in its crannies.
Lord Stafford peered down into the ravine. "What a wicked looking place. We're quite on the edge, Miss Stillwater. Our lives are in your hands—and that terrible mountain on the right."
"It shadows us like fate," said Lord Canning. ”

“ For three months and then, when the folks rushed down on me, like a river breaking a dam, I broke out—that's all." She raised her arms, with a long, despairing sigh. "Thurston, if you will go away, may I stay with your mother?"
"Indiana, you don't know how I suffer—you cannot. As long as all the love is on my side, my wishes will be commands to you; my plans for your welfare and happiness—domination. There should be no such question between a man and wife who love each other. It could not have ended otherwise. A union without the sacred seal of love—is cursed." ”

“ They love you just—just like a daughter."
"I like people to love me," said Indiana.
"So do I," answered Glen. He gazed around him. Nature so beautifully revealed just then, inspired him to speak. "There are not many days like this," he thought, "and now, it is measured by moments. Before it is over I will tell her!" He leaned over his mandolin, watching a little brown bug struggle through the grass, then he gazed upward. The rosy light still lingered on the orchard.
"Before it fades, I will ask her." Stillwater's caution recurred to him. ”

“ Everything that you arrange is bound to be delightful, Mrs. Bunker."
"We'll leave the young people to their own devices. Lord Canning is so bent on learning to row an Adirondack boat."
"Ha, ha, ha! Yes, Mrs. Bunker."
"It's a dangerous lake, Lord Stafford—I warned him."
"You did, Mrs. Bunker—your conscience can rest easily."
"I feel I'm taking an advantage, Miss Stillwater," said Lord Canning, lounging comfortably in the bow of Indiana's pet boat, "to sit here and let you do all the work. Let me take the oars. I have been watching you closely—I think you can trust me." ”

“ Indiana swung slowly. "Perhaps—I'm in earnest—this time!"
Glen rose and grasped her wrist tightly. "Don't say that, Indy! While you're single I shall never give up hope. Now, what's in the way? I'm not your inferior in education. Do you know any handsomer fellow than I?"—with a grim affectation of humor. "If it's for money—I have all you'll ever want."
"I must marry a man of the world. I want to live in the world. We're both undeveloped—I'm not a woman yet, nor you a man." ”

“ Lord Canning folded his arms and gazed down into the impenetrable depths. "There was once a weaver. He wove a dull, gray woof—always the same gray woof. Sometimes, he would look up at the rich blue of the morning sky, then go on weaving his gray web. Sometimes, he would glance at the sunset, and marvel at the gorgeous hues of the clouds—but there was never a gleam of color in the web, that he wove—it was always the same, dull gray. ”

“ Indiana grasped it quickly, then held it for dear life. "You shall listen to me," she pleaded, in a voice vibrating with intense emotion, her breast heaving, her eyes dilating, until they looked almost black under the yellow hair. "I won't let you go until you've heard it. All my life I've queened it over people, delighting to feel my own power—to make the poor things who loved me bend to my will. Last night I saw the horror in your face when you turned from me—leaving me alone with my uncontrolled, undisciplined nature. Thurston, how could you expect me to be different? ”

“ This trail seems to me like a dim, narrow aisle of a church, leading to the altar." He looked upward at the glimpse of gray sky. "Indiana, I am a very serious man. I accept life as worth living only with serious aims." They emerged upon a small open space in the woods, dimly lit, with a Turkish carpet of many-colored leaves. He drew Indiana down upon a fallen tree, covered with silvery patches of gray-green moss. "My ideal of a wife has been an intellectual woman of my own world and standing. ”

“ It sheds a sweet and subtle fragrance which enchants the soul, and charms the eyes, so that they see a wonderful light on all things. But when the flower perishes, there is an end to the spell. The glamour fades before the eyes, the soul is seized with an aching grief. But the witch-flower of hope will bloom again, if it is not plucked by the root.
"I'm getting a little bit tired of it myself, here," remarked Mrs. Bunker. "Well, it'll be time to pack up soon; I expect to enjoy myself this summer."
Indiana, watching the rain, forebore to answer. ”

“ Indiana rose lazily from the grass, also shaking off a shower of blossoms, and leaned against a low-spreading apple tree, extending her arms on the branches each side of her.
Glen gazed at her, still thrumming his mandolin.
"Do you think you'll come to Narragansett with us, this summer?" said Indiana, looking idly up through the branches.
"What for?" said Glen, gloomily. "To see you dance and flirt with a lot of—of simpering idiots."
Indiana laughed. Every time she moved, the blossoms fell upon her shoulders, neck and hair. ”

“ The sharp winds have a tendency to pitch our voices in a high key."
"And your gowns, dear, were a little too modern—too expensive for a young wife. You don't mind my saying it, Indiana?"
Indiana gave her an angelic smile. "I am so grateful to you. Lady Canning has given me the real English taste in the selection of a gown," parading before Lord Stafford, who, inserting his monocle, inspected her seriously. "Dowdy, isn't it?" she whispered, as Lady Canning bent over the fire, warming her hands. "I adore Irish poplins, Scotch plaids, English cheviots—and seed-cake. ”

“ Lady Canning smiled in a gratified manner. "I am amply repaid, if you are pleased, my dear child."
Jennings then brought in the tea. He looked so aged, Indiana felt like jumping up and taking the tray from him, at the same time pushing him gently into an arm-chair. He was a little, thin old man with sharp features and blue eyes, his snow-white hair plastered smoothly on each side of his head. He had been in the family since a boy, and, as is generally so in such cases, his individuality, his interests, or, properly speaking, his entire life, had become absorbed in those whom he had served. ”

“ The evening was still and gray, the air soft and balmy, without a tinge of frost. Through the trees that fringed the trail, they caught glimpses of the glassy lake mirroring the gray floating clouds, and great masses of autumn color, with sometimes the intervening dark shadow of a group of pines.
"Men to you are like a large correspondence, which is read carelessly, 'answered' scribbled on the envelopes, then piled into pigeon holes—forgotten."
"I always throw old letters away," said Indiana, sweetly. "I never accumulate rubbish."
"Oh!" said Lord Canning. ”

“ Bunker coughed slightly behind them, and Indiana ran quickly out on the balcony, leaving Lord Canning under the amused fire of Mrs. Bunker's bright eyes. She shook her finger at him, and would have followed Indiana, but Lord Canning did not wish to be taken so lightly.
"Mrs. Bunker," he said in a low, intense voice, grasping the balustrade, "one moment, if you please. It may not be considered anything in America when a man of my age is seen holding the hand of such a very young girl, but, I am not a believer in light sentiment—flirting, perhaps, would be the term. I love your granddaughter!" ”

“ He seized her hands, and held them tightly.
"Life means nothing to me, without you, Indiana—you're the key to it. Look here; suppose I was given a beautiful book to read, in a foreign language—the greatest ever written—it would be mere print, wouldn't it? But suppose someone translated it for me, and all its beauty became suddenly revealed. You translate life for me that way, Indiana; don't you understand?"
"Yes, yes, Glen. But if I marry you, that will be the end. You're too much a part of the old life—"
"The old life, Indiana? Isn't that the best life?" ”

“ It makes me much worse. You're the first man I've ever taken seriously."
"Do you love me, Indiana?"
"No. I'm tired of the model farm—I'm tired of Grandma Chazy—I'm tired of Washington and New York, and I want to go to England." His expression sank at this frank avowal, only to change again at her next words. "I—I feel that marriage to me must mean the changing of every condition—or—" she looked imploringly into his anxious eyes, "I won't make a success of my life—and I want to be something more than I am—something better." ”

“ Bunker, who was embroidering red roses on white linen, handled the potato with the air of a connoisseur.
"Father, you're working as hard on this farm as if your living depended on it," said Mrs. Stillwater.
"My living does depend on it; I'd have been under the ground before long, if I hadn't taken to this. I consider every potato which costs me ten dollars, is equivalent to a doctor's pill."
Mrs. Bunker laughed.
"My dear grandmother, a man who works as hard as I'm working on my farm, makes a living and nothing more. ”

“ When they finally arose from supper, Glen immediately disappeared. "I must get away from that awful white light," he thought, walking restlessly through the dark woods. "It's beating on my brain and driving me mad." His soul foreboded very truly that Indiana was lost to him. The soul is our Cassandra. It mourns and prophecies, while the heart is forever holding a carnival. A young girl decking herself with flowers for a fete. ”

“ Lady Canning turned, with an expression of smiling satisfaction.
"In my time, dear, as soon as a girl married, she wore a bonnet with strings. That's always the sign of a matron in England. You know there must be something to distinguish the married from the single woman."
"Yes, certainly, I approve of it," said Indiana. "Then there can be no fear of any mistakes being made by strangers." She heaved a deep sigh of conscious virtue. Lord Stafford dropped his monocle and fell into a chair, laughing unrestrainedly. ”