Yet all
the sweet humility of which she was possessed could not banish from her
memory the lingering clasp of a hand, the warm light that fell from eyes
that glanced at her. For the present, these were grace sufficient for her
daily need. Given the perfume, what need to name the flower?
Her family, without understanding it, noted the difference in their
different ways. Mrs. Levice saw with a thrill of delight that she was
growing more softly beautiful. Her father, holding his hands a few inches
from her shoulders, said, one morning, with a drolly puzzled look, "I am
afraid to touch you; sparks might fly."
Arnold surprised her standing in the gloaming by a window, her hands
clasped over her head, a smile parting her lips, her eyes haunting in the
witchery of their expression. By some occult power her glance fell
unconsciously on him; and he beheld, with mingled amazement and
speculation, a rosy hue overspread her face and throat; her hands went
swiftly to her face as if she would hide something it might reveal, and she
passed quickly from the room. Arnold sat down to solve this problem of an
unknown quantity.
Ruth's birthday came in its course, a few days after her meeting with Rose
Delano.
The family celebrated it in their usual simple way, which consisted only in
making the day pass pleasantly for the one whose day of days it was, --a
graceful way of showing that the birth has been a happy one for all
concerned.
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