A murmur of admiration ran through the spectators as these tall, lithe, muscular youths stepped forth into the bright sunshine of the playing field; and soon all eyes were intently watching the evolutions of the game, which was very much like that of our modern football, though played with more grace and less of brute force and violence.

Not a great many of the spectators understood the details of the contest, but they cheered lustily when any side seemed to score an advantage.  The rainbow-hued living mass seemed to sway and melt and break up into coloured spray, and join again and roll from side to side like a living creature; and its evolutions were followed with keenest interest by all spectators, and by cheering and shouts of warning or encouragement from those who understood the game, and knew which way the tide was turning.

At last the contest ended.  Arthur Cole’s side had come out victorious in the struggle; but so gallant a stand had been made by the other, that Anthony Dalaber was called up to receive a laurel crown in token of his prowess and skill.

He looked very handsome as he stood before Freda, whilst she lightly set the chaplet on his head, whence after a few moments he removed it and laid it at her feet.

“That is the place where I would fain lay all my honours and all my gains,” he said in a low, passionate whisper, and she felt a wave of hot blood rising in her cheek at his words and at the ardent look in his eyes.

She could not doubt this man’s love for her, and she wondered whether it would compel her own love in return.  A short while back she had regarded him rather in the light of a comrade or brother; but now she felt that a change had come over their relations, and that he would not be satisfied with the sisterly affection of the past.  Had she more to give him?  She scarcely knew herself as yet; and still, as she revolved the matter in her mind, she felt more and more convinced that without Anthony Dalaber her life would be colourless and cold.

His eagerness brought an element into it which she could not well spare.  He was becoming a sort of necessity to her.  She thought of him almost constantly, yearned over him, desired above all things to see him rise to the level of greatness in any trial which might come upon him.  If that were love, then surely she loved him.

The thought was not without a mingling of sweetness and pain.  She put it from her for the time being; but when the day was over, and the sisters were alone together in their bed chamber, taking off their finery and brushing out their long tresses of hair, it was Magdalen’s own words that brought the matter back, as she softly kissed her sister, whispering: 

“How Anthony loves you, Freda!”

“I truly think he does, Magda,” answered she, taking her sister’s hands and leaning her brow against them.  “In sooth he has told me so; but at the first I thought perhaps it was but a passing fancy—­we have been so much together of late.  Now I truly think that he does care.  Magda, what shall I say to him?  He will not be long in pressing for his answer.”