“Yes,” she answered. The blushes were gone, leaving her clear, soft cheeks paler than before. She moved towards the fence until, had he stretched forth his hand, he could have almost touched her gown. She was the same Kitty, he thought with something of wonder; a year had made no change in her that his eyes could discern. And yet--perhaps--she seemed graver, though not a whit less sweetly fair and gracious.
“A year makes little difference to a Princess,” he said smilingly.
“It leaves her a year older,” she answered.
“But perhaps, after all, it hasn’t been a year. Perhaps it was only yesterday that you left me here and went up the path and into the Castle; I could almost believe it.” She shook her head.
“Things have happened since then,” she replied with a little sigh. He echoed the sigh; did not he know it?
“Yes, I suppose so. You’ve travelled much and seen many things since that morning.”
“Yes.” She showed no surprise that he should know.
“And----” But he stopped. “The Ogre is well, I trust?”
“Not I; you fooled yourself. We found your card when we returned yesterday.”
“Yes. I remember.” He looked thoughtfully at one of his thin, sunburned hands.
“My uncle will be glad to see you,” she went on a little breathlessly. “He was saying so this morning.”
“You are very kind,” he said, “but I fear I can’t give myself the pleasure of calling upon him this time. I am leaving for the North at eleven o’clock.”
“Oh!” she said. There was silence between them. Then,--
“Are those for the church?” he asked, indicating the roses in the basket.
“Yes, the--the wedding is to-night, I presume?”
“Yes, to-night; but these are not for that. They are having a florist in Washington do the decorating.”
“I see.” He put a hand inside his serge coat and drew forth a pocket-book. From it he brought to light a flattened, crumbling rose. He held it forth, smiling bravely.
“I want you to accept this as a present,” he said lightly. “It is no longer very lovely to look at, but”--with a bow of artificial gallantry--“it has been what I prized most in the world.”
“A present?” she repeated, while a tinge of color crept into her cheeks. “You mean----”
“A wedding-present, yes.” He wondered whether the smile on his face looked as ugly as it felt! She looked from the rose in his outstretched palm to his face and back again to the rose with a puzzled expression in her brown eyes.