"'A merry lilt o' moonlight for mermaiden revelry,'" quoted Kenneth
softly from one of Walter's poems.
And just he and she alone together in the glamour of sound and sight! If
only her slippers didn't bite so! and if only she could talk cleverly
like Miss Oliver--nay, if she could only talk as she did herself to
other boys! But words would not come, she could only listen and murmur
little commonplace sentences now and again. But perhaps her dreamy eyes
and her dented lip and her slender throat talked eloquently for her. At
any rate Kenneth seemed in no hurry to suggest going back and when they
did go back supper was in progress. He found a seat for her near the
window of the lighthouse kitchen and sat on the sill beside her while
she ate her ices and cake. Rilla looked about her and thought how lovely
her first party had been. She would never forget it. The room re-echoed
to laughter and jest. Beautiful young eyes sparkled and shone. From the
pavilion outside came the lilt of the fiddle and the rhythmic steps of
the dancers.
There was a little disturbance among a group of boys crowded about the
door; a young fellow pushed through and halted on the threshold, looking
about him rather sombrely. It was Jack Elliott from over-harbour--a
McGill medical student, a quiet chap not much addicted to social doings.
He had been invited to the party but had not been expected to come since
he had to go to Charlottetown that day and could not be back until late.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66