Part 27 (2/2)
The man's heart leaped at its tenderness.
”Why didn't you join me at first?” he asked.
”n.o.body axed me, sir!” she said.
”Well, I ask you now--come on--we'll do it together!”
”All right,” was the jolly answer.
They sang it in duet to the soft accompaniment which she played.
Never had he heard such singing by a slip of a girl. Her voice was rich, full of feeling and caressing tenderness. He felt his soul dissolving in its liquid depths.
Throughout the lunch he caught himself staring at her in moments of long silence. He had for the first time in his life lost his capacity for silly gaiety.
He roused himself with an effort, and wondered what on earth had come over him. He was too deeply interested in studying the girl to attempt to a.n.a.lyze his own feelings. It never occurred to him to try. He was too busy watching the tender light in her eyes.
He wondered if she could be engaged to the fellow she went riding with? He resented the idea. Of course not. And when he remembered the care-free ring to her laughter when she said goodbye, he was rea.s.sured.
No girl could laugh a goodbye like that to a man she loved. The tone was too poised and impersonal.
He asked her to ride with him that afternoon.
”On one condition,” she smiled.
”What?”
”That you bring your banjo and play for me when I ask you.”
”How'd you know I had a banjo?”
”Caught the final tw.a.n.g as you tuned it on my arrival.”
”I'll bring it if you like.”
”Please.”
He hurried to his room, placed the banjo in its case and threw it over his shoulder. She had promised to be ready in ten minutes and have the horses at the door.
She was ready in eight minutes, and leaped into the saddle before he could reach her side. For the life of him he couldn't keep his eye off her exquisite figure.
She rode without effort. She had been born in the saddle.
She led him along the military road to the juncture of the Smoky Hill and Republican rivers. A lover at the Fort had built a seat against a huge rock that crowned the hill overlooking the fork of the rivers.
Stuart hitched the horses and found the seat. For two hours he played his banjo and they sang old songs together.
”I love a banjo--don't you?” she asked enthusiastically.
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