There was a round of applause from the little group he had just
left, in which Elsie joined heartily. Her eyes were glowing with
admiration, for when was not power and daring captivating to a
woman? Then, in sudden alarm and forgetfulness of her former
coolness, she exclaimed:
"But how will you get back?"
"This is my bridge," he replied, smiling brightly across to her,
and holding on to the slender young tree. "You perceive that I was
brought up in the country."
So saying, he tied the sapling down to a root with a handkerchief,
and then proceeded to fill another with moss.
As George saw Elsie's face while she watched Stanhope gather the
coveted trifle, he chuckled to himself--
"The ice is broken between them now."
But Stanhope had insecurely fastened the sapling down. The strain
upon the knot was too severe, and suddenly the young tree flew up
and stood erect but quivering, with his handkerchief fluttering in
its top as a symbol of defeat. There was an exclamation of dismay
and Elsie again asked with real anxiety in her tone:
"How will you get back now?"
Stanhope shrugged his shoulders.
Pages:
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415