The Washington herald., 1907-07-28
CHAPTER VI-(Continued)


He had but newly returned to Stor-
mont after a few days absence. Having
been assured that there was no cause for
anxiety in his cousins condition, instinct
bade him leave parents and child alone
together. The business" which he plead
ed as q reason for departure was no mere
pretext, as that hard-worked word fire.
quently is. but he experienced most un-
usual difficulty In giving his mind 20 It.
and his agent found his employer very
preoccupied and Indifferent. Possibly the
young man found his state Of mind some
what pUzZling TO himself He had been
engaged TO marry his cousin. therefore,
OF course. he loved her. he would have
said. il he had ever thought~about the
matter; but he had been quite content
when separated from her, and in Nor
way, before the terrible news came, had
in truth, thought very little about her.
But now Isobers face, when she had
raised her head from his shoulder, Iso-
bePS look when her eyes had met his,
haunted him. and brought back that
strange kumult of the blood. that thrill
and jar through all his being, as OF some
new force coming into play which until
that night had been unknown to him.
From the sheltered south terrace the
Italian garden, with its formal beds. its
quantity trimmed shrubs. its fountains
and urns and statues. sloped down TO
the river which sparkled by. broad and
swift and shallow. a contrast from the
black, suilen depths of the Alder Pool.
Here. when there was sunlight at all. #
seemed TO linger, and TO heighten the
allen. exotic charm Of the Old World gar
den, which on this placid. tranquil
autumn afternoon seemed STEPPED in
slumbrOus peace.
At the farther end Of the terrace some
warm-lined rugs were spread. and d bas-
ket chair OF two. heaped with cushions,
stood suggestively about. Conyers
glanced at them first expecting 10 see a
slim, languid figure reclining in one, but
they were empty, and Isobel was standing
straight and tall beside the messy bal
ustrade. and, with her head turned away
was gazing out across the river.
Some slight sound broke her dream. She
turned. and stood for a second like some
startled sylvan creature poised for instant
flight; then the gray eyes, clear as sun
liz water. met his. As there flashed into
them quick radiance as Of fulhIled ex-
pectancy, the young mans eyes were
opened, and he knew-knew what that
vague, sweet turmoil Of unrest had
meant; for now he knew what love
meant. Now he knew that he loved this
girl, who was no longer hts little cousin.
TO be cherished with a placid kindness,
but young divinity newly revealed, and
claiming his homage. a claim which soul
and spirit and body to the inmost fiber
recognized as just and right, and rose up
joyfully to greet, He had been blind
now he saw.
In that strange, sweet delirium Of the
spirit and the senses Basil had much
ado not to claim his former rights
rights which had never yet been waived
and take her in his arms then and there
as his promised wife; but true love is rev
erent, and now he stood in awe before
the girl whom he had known all his life,
but whom to-day he seemed to be seeing
for the first time Good God How had he
been so blind-so dull-so dead Was he
the same man-was this the same woman?
No, whether ne realized it yet or not, it
was not the old easy-gOing, light-heart-
ed Basil Conyers who made a hasty step
forward and exclaimed in a shaken voice:
You know me. Isobel?"
you must be my Cousin Basil, I
think: but I do know you'll have seen
you before"
Where? When?" cried Basil. Had
the sudden sight of him really awaken
ed that sleeping memory?
Il know now that it was your face I
saw first OF all. before even saw my
mothers" said-Isobel, shyly 1T was
like waking and falling asleep again, or
a sudden, vivid dream. I saw the hall
quite plainly. ! knew it again as soon as
saw it afterward: then I saw you; you
were bending over me-you did not speak,
but my mother did. and then it all van
ished again"
As she spoke the sweet young blood
came and went in her face like the
aerial chase of sun and shadow.
to stay-and II am here. tOo,' said
Conyers. with the laundering common
place. and the constrained laugh in
which oyercharged feeling often finds re-
lief But is that all you remember
think k?'-forgetting caution and smiling
into her eyes.
The light left them as the sun-glint van
ishes from ripping water.
"Oh, don't ask me to think" she said.
almost piteOusly. NO there is nothing.
1t IS as if my life had begun that mo-
ment when ! opened my eyes in the hall.
It is like being born quite gUOWn-up.
trying TO smile again, ''OT a blind man
having his eyes opened: only the blind
man would have heard of the wonderful
world. snd have sighed for 1t. and for
dear faces for years; but II awOke at
once 20 this" with a swift rejoicing
glance, which took IN the glowing gar
den, the silveTV stream, the autumn
glories of the woods. the golden brown
OF the moOrs. and the faint, far blue OF
the sky. From these radiant heights her
eyes fell TO his again. and the shadows
deepened. Sometimes I do feel as If
there were something beyond-something
in the darkness, she said almost in a
whisper.
NO, no. you must not think that. "
broke in Basil. dreadlng some question,
and cursing his folly in leading to it.
Think Of the sunshine only-please God
there may be no shadow over It for you
again; but for myself''-trying after a
lighter tone. while all the time he was
thinking that Lady Stormont was right,
that this was new Isobei indeed. When
would she have spoken thus freely, show
ed such radiant Joy?-"for myself, !