A soft rug was laid across her lap, and John stood beside her. “Is it not fascinating to watch a mountain stream straining and speeding towards its future? I love it, and it is so long since I have been near one. A glorious day, Miss Helène, and all the elements in our favor. May I sit down?”
Helène looked up. “Certainly, Mr. Morton.”
Her gaze sank again and rested on her shoes. How clumsy the boots were! Looking up she met John’s questioning eyes.
“I am glad your feet are resting on a dry spot, Miss Helène; you must guard yourself against catching cold.”
“Are you not over cautious, Mr. Morton?”
“Possibly, but you know I have just come from a country where it never rains, where it is always hot and dry, and it may be I am worrying about the effects of dampness more than the people here would do. It seems a crime to ask you to wear those heavy boots, but——”