Only the great, tender
soul was visible to her; the unasking, the kind spirit. Moved by a sudden
impulse, Priscilla rose to her feet and walked to him with outstretched
hands; when she reached him he took her hands in his and smiled up at
her.
"I--I accept," she whispered with a break in her voice. "You have made
me--happier than I have ever been in my life!"
Boswell drew her hands to his lips and kissed them.
"And you will come and see me in them"--Priscilla turned her eyes to the
box--"when I--dance?"
"You are to dance?"
"We are all to dance."
"I have not seen you dance for many a day. If you dance as you once did
there will be only you dancing. Yes, I will come."
And Boswell went. The exercises were held in the little chapel. From his
far corner he watched the young women, in uniforms of spotless white,
file to the platform for their diplomas. They all merged, for him, into
one--a tall, lithe creature with burnished hair, coppery and fine, and an
exalted face. Later, from behind the mass of palms and ferns in the
dancing hall, he saw only one girl--a girl in white with the tints of
the thistle flower matching the deep eyes.
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