Part 40 (2/2)

”Yes, occasionally,” he answered, with a peculiar smile.

”What instrument do you use?”

”I can accompany myself on several different instruments,” he replied, ”but the violin is my favorite; it is capable of more expression than most others.”

At last the little party adjourned to the porch, and Lyle, under the pretext of some household duties, excused herself, and escaped to her own little room. Here her forced composure gave way, and her highly wrought feelings found relief in a pa.s.sionate burst of tears, though why she wept, she could not have told.

Unconsciously to herself, perhaps, Morton Rutherford had of late become the hero of her thoughts, partially on account of her high estimate of him, and also because of the sympathy which she felt would exist between them in taste and thought and feeling. She had dreamed of a friends.h.i.+p with him, perhaps more perfect and helpful than any she had yet known; but they had met, and in that one glance had been revealed to her a natural affinity deeper than any of which she had ever dreamed, and the impossibility of a calm, Platonic friends.h.i.+p between kindred spirits such as theirs.

Unconsciously to herself, Lyle had that day crossed the great divide, and womanhood, with its dower of love and joy, of pain and suffering, was henceforth hers. The mightiest element in her nature, which had lain dormant all these years, its power unsuspected even by herself, was now aroused, and even while she felt the throbbing of its new life, as yet, she knew not its name. She was young, her observation and her experience had been limited, and there had been no one to prepare her for the certain awakening of this mighty power, before whose conquering sway all else must yield.

She grew more calm, and as she reviewed the few friends.h.i.+ps she had known,--the helpful kindness and tenderness of Jack in whom she had confided her childish griefs, the chivalry of Everard Houston, who from the first had const.i.tuted himself her champion and protector, and even the pleasant kindliness of Ned Rutherford, whom she scarcely deemed more than an acquaintance,--there was suddenly revealed to her quickened perception the distinction between friends.h.i.+p and love, and instantly she recognized the stranger who had taken possession of her heart: Love had come. Love was to be henceforth king, and she stood trembling and abashed in the presence of the new sovereign. Her tears flowed silently, but she was far from unhappy; love, even unknown and unreciprocated, brings its own sweet reward.

Whether her love would ever be returned by the one whose glance had awakened it in its might, she dared not even think. She knew not, as yet, in what light he would regard her. Notwithstanding the friends.h.i.+p and esteem manifested by the younger brother, she fully understood the insurmountable barrier which his pride had placed between himself and her. Would it exist in the mind of the elder brother also? Or would his keener insight, his superior perception discern her true position? Time alone would tell.

A little later, calm and queenly as ever, Lyle rejoined the little group, who had strolled out a short distance from the house, and were seated beside the lake, in the cooling shadow of a large rock.

She could not help observing the smile of pleasure with which Mr.

Rutherford welcomed her approach, but she would not yet trust herself to hold any protracted conversation with him, and giving him only a bright little smile of recognition, she seated herself beside Ned, and began a playful badinage, as they had been accustomed to banter each other on his former visit. Morton Rutherford watched them curiously, listening to the war of words with a half smile, and evidently absorbed in his own thoughts, as, for a while, Miss Gladden and Mr.

Van Dorn had the conversation to themselves, Houston having gone to the mines.

As the shadows began to lengthen, and the sun seemed hovering over a snow-crowned peak that stood out boldly against the western horizon, Houston was seen approaching the house, and at a little distance, Maverick and his two sons. Lyle, who was then standing on the outer edge of the group, talking with Miss Gladden, was quick to observe a sudden movement on Ned's part, as, turning toward his brother, he made some brief remark in low tones, regarding the approaching trio. She well knew the tenor of his remark, and watched closely to see its effect.

She saw Morton Rutherford glance in the direction indicated by a slight motion of Ned's head, and then, though he betrayed no surprise by word or movement, an expression of astonishment crossed his face, but only for an instant. His features grew white and stern, and he watched every movement of the three figures, as, with stealthy, slouching gait and suspicious looks, they stole around the corner of the house, and the expression of his eye seemed to Lyle like that of a judge pa.s.sing sentence on a condemned criminal.

He did not look at Lyle immediately, perhaps he was conscious of the eyes watching him so narrowly from under the heavily drooping lids, fringed with long, golden lashes, but when he did look toward her, there was a depth of meaning in those dark eyes which she could not fathom.

Twenty-four hours before, Lyle standing there, under those circ.u.mstances, would have been crushed with humiliation, but in the light of the revelation of the night before, she met his glance with an expression which to him seemed utterly inscrutable. There was neither shame nor apology written on her face, as with a calm, bright smile, and the same self-possessed manner, she turned and pa.s.sed into the house.

Upon entering the dining-room, Lyle heard angry words in the kitchen, and paused to listen. The voice was Maverick's.

”Who in h.e.l.l is that new feller you've got up here?”

”That's the brother of the young feller that was here a spell ago,”

answered the voice of Minty, who was just emerging from the pantry.

”d.a.m.n you! who asked you to say anything? Git out of here,” he roared, and Minty made a hasty retreat into the cellar.

”Who's that new feller out there?” he again demanded of his wife.

”His name is Rutherford, and he's a brother of the young man that come out here with Mr. Houston,” was her reply.

”What's his business here?”

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