Page:Middle Aged Love Stories (IA middleagedlove00bacorich).djvu/149

 wiped her fingers daintily. In the fading glow her pale hair turned almost golden, and her soft cheeks took a deeper tint one realized what a charmingly pretty girl she must have been. She looked long at the green before them and broke the friendly silence:

"How well the grass is looking, monsieur, for this time of year!"

M. Laroche beamed expressively on the grass. "But how charming, Mlle. Sabine, and how green! It is also neat—so neat!"

Miss Sabina sighed.

"I suppose that in England it is much, much finer," she said softly. "I suppose we haven't the least idea of the parks there one must see them."

M. Laroche shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah, ze parrks! C'est possible—it may be. But zey are damp, verry damp n'est-ce pas?"

Miss Sabina smiled gently to herself, with eyes that saw beyond the little green.