Part 29 (1/2)

”Oh!” said Ellinor again. Then, after a long and deliberate survey, the light of recognition dawned slowly in her eyes. ”Oh, I _do_ know you, don't I? To be sure I do! You're Mr.----the gentleman I met on Rainbow Mountain, near Mayhill,--Mr.--ah yes--Bransford!”

”Why, so I am!” said Jeff, leaning on the saddle-horn. One half of Mr.

Bransford wondered if he had not been making a fool of himself and taking a great deal for granted: the other half, though considerably alarmed, was not at all deceived.

Miss Ellinor did not actually put her finger in the corner of her mouth--she merely looked as if she had. ”Ah!--Won't you ... get down?”

she said helplessly. ”What a beautiful horse!”

”Why, yes--thank you--I believe I will.”

He left the beautiful horse to stand with dangling reins, and came over to the bench, silent and rather grim.

”Won't you sit down?” said Ellinor politely. ”Fine day, isn't it?”

”It's a wonderful day--a marvelous day--a stupendous day!” said this exasperated young man. ”No, I guess it's not worth while to sit down. I just wanted to find out where you lived. I asked you once before, you know, and you didn't tell me.”

”Didn't I? Oh, do sit down! You look so grumpy--tired, I mean.” Rather grudgingly, she swept the sewing basket from the bench to the gra.s.s.

Jeff's eyes followed the action. He saw--if you call it seeing--the snipped threads on the gra.s.s, the yet unpicked bastings, white against the peach-pink facing; but he was a mere man, hardly-circ.u.mstanced, and these eloquent tidings were wasted upon his clumsy intellect: as had been the surprising good fortune of finding Miss Ellinor exactly where she was.

Nerving himself with memory of the Quaker Lady at the masquerade--if, indeed, that had ever really happened--Jeff took the offered seat.

The young lady matched two edges together, smoothed them, eyed the result critically, and plied a nimble needle. Then she turned clear and guileless eyes on her glooming seatmate.

”You look older, somehow, than I thought you were, now that I remember,”

she observed, biting the thread. ”You've been away, haven't you?”

”Thought you were going away, yourself, so wild and fierce?” said Jeff, evading.--_Been away, indeed!_

Ellinor threaded her needle.

”Mamma _was_ talking of going for a while,” she said tranquilly. ”But I'm rather glad we didn't. We're having a splendid time here--and Mr.

White's going to take us to the White Sands next week. He'll be down to-morrow--at least I think so. He's fine! He took us to Mescalero early in the spring. And the young people here at Rainbow's End are simply delightful. You must meet some of them. Listen! There they are now--I hear them. They _are_ playing tennis. Come on up and I'll introduce you.

I can finish this thing any time.” She tossed the poor kimono into the basket.

”No,” said this unhappy young man, rising. ”I believe I'll go on back.

Good-by, Miss Ell--Miss Hoffman. I wish you much happiness!”

”Why--surely you're not going now? There are some nice girls here--they have heard so much of you, but they say they've never met you. Don't you want----”

Jeff groaned, fumbling blindly at the bridle. ”No, I wish I'd never seen a girl!”

”Why-y! That's not very polite, is it?----Are--are you--mad to me?” said Ellinor in a meek little voice.

”Mad? No,” said Jeff bitterly. ”I'm just coming to my senses. I've been dreaming. Now I've woke up!”

”Angry, I mean, of course. I just say it that way--'are you mad to me'--sometimes--to be--to be--nice, Mr. Bransford!”