Like one awaking from sleep she looked at him, and then the glad light
of recognition swept up to her eyes. Her dream had come true. "Oh,"
she exclaimed, "it is Allan!"
CHAPTER XI
AFTER "THE BALL."
She was conscious of what she had said an instant afterwards and
blushed to the brow. If any one at that moment had asked her what's in
a name, and she had been compelled to reveal her inmost convictions,
the fair Rose, who by any other name would be as sweet, would have
answered "impropriety, embarrassment, a host of unpleasant emotions."
It was impossible to explain to him that she had been helping him to
make hay that evening in Lady Sarah Maitland's parlours, and that that
was why the name that she had heard so frequently in the meadow had
left her lips so easily and naturally that night. Better try and seem
unconscious. But unconsciousness, like happiness, comes unsought or
not at all. As for Allan, his own name had never made such music in
his ears and surely to no lone watcher waiting for the dawn could the
first blush of morn be more welcome than was to him this lovely
mantling bloom on the face of the girl he loved.
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