"I wish it were something
better!" she said simply; and then stood watching him, while he began to
clamber. Rowland was not shaped for an acrobat, and his enterprise
was difficult; but he kept his wits about him, made the most of narrow
foot-holds and coigns of vantage, and at last secured his prize.
He managed to stick it into his buttonhole and then he contrived to
descend. There was more than one chance for an ugly fall, but he evaded
them all. It was doubtless not gracefully done, but it was done, and
that was all he had proposed to himself. He was red in the face when
he offered Miss Garland the flower, and she was visibly pale. She had
watched him without moving. All this had passed without the knowledge
of Mrs. Hudson, who was dozing beneath the hood of the carriage. Mary
Garland's eyes did not perhaps display that ardent admiration which
was formerly conferred by the queen of beauty at a tournament; but they
expressed something in which Rowland found his reward. "Why did you do
that?" she asked, gravely.
He hesitated. He felt that it was physically possible to say, "Because
I love you!" but that it was not morally possible.
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