Part 2 (1/2)
The deep eyes confirmed this by the drooping of the lids.
”And you broke in--what for?”
No answer.
”Who are you?”
Really the situation was becoming unbearable, so Truedale changed his tactics. He would play with the poor little thing and rea.s.sure her.
”Now that I look at you I see what you are. You're not a human at all.
You're a spirit of something or other--probably of one of those perky mountains over yonder. The White Maid, I bet! You had to don my clothes in order to materialize before my eyes and you had to use that word of the hills--so that I could understand you. It's quite plain now and you are welcome to my--my bath robe; I dare say that, underneath it, you are decked out in filmy clouds and vapours and mists. Oh! come now--” The strange eyes were filling--but not overflowing!
”I was only joking. Forgive me. Why--”
The wretched fez fell from the soft hair--the bedraggled robe from the rigid shoulders--and there, garbed in a rough home-spun gown, a little plaid shawl and a checked ap.r.o.n, stood--
”It's the no-count,” thought Truedale. Aloud he said, ”Nella-Rose!”
With the dropping of the disguise years and dignity were added to the girl and Truedale, who was always at his worst in the presence of strange young women, gazed dazedly at the one before him now.
”Perhaps”--he began awkwardly--”you'll sit down. Please do!” He drew a chair toward her. Nella-Rose sank into it and leaned her bowed head upon her arms, which she folded on the table. Her shoulders rose and fell convulsively, and Truedale, looking at her, became hopelessly wretched.
”I'm a beast and nothing less!” he admitted by way of apology and excuse. ”I--I wish you _could_ forgive me.”
Then slowly the head was raised and to Truedale's further consternation he saw that mirth, not anguish, had caused the shaking of those deceiving little shoulders.
”Oh! I see--you are laughing!” He tried to be indignant.
”Yes.”
”At what?”
”Everything--you!”
”Thank you!” Then, like a response, something heretofore unknown and unsuspected in Truedale rose and overpowered him. His shyness and awkwardness melted before the warmth and glow of the conquering emotion.
He got up and sat on the corner of the table nearest his shabby little guest, and looking straight into her bewitching eyes he joined her in a long, resounding laugh.
It was surrender, pure and simple.
”And now,” he said at last, ”you must stay and have a bite. I am about starved. And you?”
The girl grew sober.
”I'm--I'm always hungry,” she admitted softly.
They drew the table close to the roaring fire, leaving doors and windows open to the crisp, sweet; morning air.
”We'll have a party!” Truedale announced. ”I'll step over to Jim's cabin and bring the best he's got.”
When he returned Nella-Rose had placed cups, saucers, and plates on the table.