Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-34.djvu/204

202 "I had a good deal of trouble to bring them here," said Alice. "They look rather drooping: I suppose it's the journey."

"My dear little chaperon," I said, "it is not the journey: it must be on account of secret. The effort not to betray me to you has been too much for their flower nerves."

"Oh, Narrowby!" cried Alice, "have got a secret! Oh, tell me quick! It must be something beautiful. You are getting more and more the man-playing-a-church-organ look."

"It is the most beautiful thing in the world," I said; "and it happened that afternoon on the cliffs. It was there that Miss Lilian Amies promised to be my wife. The harebells must have overheard her—"

"Oh, you dear Narrowby!" said Alice. And she upset the flowers in the warmth of her congratulations. "And to think I've been chaperoning you for three days and never once suspected it! Oh, you sweet, precious Narrowby!"

Author:Henry Lewis

E plucked for me a poppy red
 * Among the corn:

"A sorry omen, love," I said,
 * "This pleasant morn."

He stooped and kissed me where we stood
 * "Nay, sweet," said he,—

"For any omen must be good
 * 'Twixt you and me!"

I wore the poppy on my breast
 * The livelong day;

But when the sun sank down the west
 * I passed that way.

And there I saw my lover stand
 * (The poppy's sign);

He held a fair young maiden's hand,—
 * Not mine!—not mine!

Unseen, with breaking heart, I sped
 * My homeward way,

And by and by the white moon shed
 * Her silver day.

I leaned upon the gate, and heard,
 * With blinding tears,

The timid twitter of a bird
 * That, waking, fears!

At last, a step! I seemed to dream,—
 * My heart stood dumb,—

As through the moonlight's happy gleam
 * I saw him come.