Passionate as she was,--and with that
opulent form she could hardly be otherwise,--principle was still
deeper and more imperious with her than passion.
V.
He met her by appointment on the first ridge of Bore Hill. A sunny
summer morning smiled fresh after the rain. Bumble-bees bustled
busily about the closed lips of the red-rattle, and ripe gorse pods
burst with little elastic explosions in the basking sunlight.
When Alan reached the trysting-place, under a broad-armed oak, in a
glade of the woodland, Herminia was there before him; a good woman
always is, 'tis the prerogative of her affection. She was simply
dressed in her dainty print gown, a single tea-rosebud peeped out
from her bodice; she looked more lily-like, so Alan thought in his
heart, than he had ever yet seen her. She held out her hand to him
with parted lips and a conscious blush. Alan took it, but bent
forward at the same time, and with a hasty glance around, just
touched her rich mouth. Herminia allowed him without a struggle;
she was too stately of mien ever to grant a favor without granting
it of pure grace, and with queenly munificence.
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