There was a reason for them, but she was unconscious of it
then. Later she discovered it to lie in the fact that in her heart of
hearts she was not a "loyal little girl" at all, but an "out and out
little traitor and rebel."
CHAPTER XII.
A KISS AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
It was late afternoon in a Canadian midwinter day. Cold and still,
with a coldness so intense that the blinding brightness of the sun
made no discernable impression on the densely packed snow, and with a
stillness absolutely undisturbed by any slightest breath of blustering
wind. Before the early twilight came, Rose Macleod, wrapped in furs
from dainty head to well-booted feet, ran lightly down stairs, tapping
softly at the library door on the way.
"I am all ready, Papa," she said, illumining the room for a moment
with a pair of dark blue eyes and crimson cheeks. "Don't you think it
will be a beautiful night?"
"Very beautiful, and cold enough to kill an Esquimaux. I confess it
would be a pleasure to know that in a few hours you would be safe
under the blankets instead of junketing over at Madame DeBerczy's."
"I shall be just as safe under the buffalo robes, just as warm, and a
great deal happier.
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