His pulse quickened as he passed beyond the ancient fort, over the
burial-place of the dead, and into Churchill. He met no one at the
factor's, and the door leading into Miss Brokaw's room was partly
ajar. A great fire was burning in the fireplace, and he saw Eileen
seated in the rich glow of it, smiling at him as he entered. He
closed the door, and when he turned she had risen and was holding
out her hands to him. She had dressed for him, almost as on that
night of the Brokaw ball. In the flashing play of the fire her
exquisite arms and shoulders shone with dazzling beauty; her eyes
laughed at him; her hair rippled in a golden flood. Faintly there
came to him, filling the room slowly, tingling his nerves, the
sweet scent of heliotrope--the perfume that had filled his
nostrils on that other night, a long time ago, the sweet scent
that had come to him in the handkerchief dropped on the rock, the
breath of the bit of lace that had bound Jeanne's hair!
Eileen moved toward him. "Philip," she said, "now are you glad to
see me?"
IX
Her voice broke the spell that had held him for a moment.
"I am glad to see you," he cried, quickly, seizing both her hands.
"Only I haven't quite yet awakened from my dream.
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