"
"Don't go," whispered Edward decisively. He himself strode over to
them, lifted one chubby youngster after another into the huge swing,
and sent them flying into the tree-tops. It was a form of pastime that
he detested; but he was not going to have Wanda at the beck and call
of "those little ruffians." At last, with the sympathetic assurance
that if they wanted any more swinging they were at liberty to get it
from each other, he left them, and rejoined the Indian girl.
"Wanda!" said Helene, as she spread a shawl on the ground, "just step
across to our carriage, will you, and bring me a cushion you will find
there."
"You must not!" declared Edward, in a low savage whisper, preparing to
go himself; but the girl was off like a swallow before the wind. He
met her on the way back, took the cushion from her, and presented it
to its owner with a bow of exaggerated deference. Helene's black brows
expressed the utmost astonishment; but as she confronted Edward's
wrathful gaze her own eyes caught fire, and the two who once had been
so nearly lovers now manifested no other emotion toward each other
save repressed and concentrated hate.
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