Page:A Child of Sorrow.pdf/37

"How are you this morning?" What a mellow sweet tone!

She looked up surprised and bewildered.

On seeing Lucio, she blushed--thus her face he-came roseate in huc. Indeed of all women, she seemed to be the fairest! He saw her beautiful hair as she drew nearer falling in ringlets caressingly on her white arms and breast. Their eyes met. She dropped her's.

"Very well, thank you," she replied, smiling and then silent.

Lucio begged her to give him the pitcher and fill it for her, and after much courtesying she at last yielded. And when he went further to his request of bringing it home for her, she bluntly evaded and refused in her womanly way. So he let her do it, but ere she was about to go, Lucio said or shouted, he did not remember which, something like-"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Mother is waiting for me.'

There she tarried a little, looking him up when he did not look at her with the pitcher on her hip. While he, he dared not approach her, his courage of speech departing entirely from him. He was no poet to match this poetry herself.

Gaily the birds on their perch sang and luxuriantly the flowers wafted their delicately treasured fragrance and profusely did the wind blow it to the two young