136 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

PART III.
THE VOICE OF THE REED.

ALOME stood beneath the little bit of vine-
trellis on the farm terrace, and, shading her
eyes with her hand, looked out down the hill.

It was eventide again, and, though she would not
allow it even to herself, she was anxious.

Surely if Michael were safe he would have come
to her at the dawn ; he would never have gone straight
to the Alps with the cows without saying ever a word !

Besides, had he not got the lilies for her?

Whether he had seen the fairy or no—and Salome
would not have liked any one to guess that she
thought there was a chance he might have seen her—
he would, anyhow, have the lilies.

But her anxiety only made her a trifle cooler, a
trifle more reserved and silent than usual, and when