The Angel of the Gila Part 9

She quoted softly:

"'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red as crimson, they shall be as wool.'" Then she added, "I must go home now."

They walked on to Clayton Ranch. After a few commonplaces, Kenneth lifted his hat, and turning, walked swiftly toward the company's headquarters.

Esther stood a moment, watching the easy, graceful stride of the young engineer. His words then, and long afterwards, rang in her ears,--"Help us to make something of our lives yet." And as the words echoed in her heart, a voice aged and full of tender love, came to her like an old refrain,--"Go, my child, the Lord hath need of thee."

She lifted her face and looked into the sky. Suddenly she became conscious of the beauty of the hour. The violet light of evening played about her face and form. She forgot the flowers in her arms, forgot the sunset, and stood absorbed in prayer.

CHAPTER V

THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN BALL

It was the day of the ball. Parties of mountaineers, some on horseback, some in wagons, started for Jamison Ranch.

In the early evening, a wagon load made up of the members of the Clayton household, Kenneth Hastings and some Scotch neighbors, started for the same destination.

The road skirted the foothills for some distance, then followed the canyon several miles; and then, branching off, led directly to Jamison Ranch. As the twilight deepened into night, Nature took on a solemn and mysterious beauty. The rugged outline of the mountains, the valley and river below,--were all idealized in the softening light. The New England girl sat drinking in the wonder of it all. The mountains were speaking to her good tidings of great joy.

In the midst of merry chatter, some one called out:

"Sing us a song, Miss Bright."

It was Kenneth Hastings. Hearing her name, she roused from her reverie.

"A song?"

"Yes, do sing," urged several.

"Sing 'Oft in the Stilly Night,'" suggested Mrs. Clayton.

"All sing with me," responded Esther.

Then out on the stillness floated the beautiful old Irish song. Other voices joined Esther's. Kenneth Hastings was one of the singers. His voice blended with hers and enriched it.

Song after song followed, all the company partic.i.p.ating to some extent in the singing.

Was it the majesty of the mountain scenery that inspired Esther, that sent such a thrill of gladness into her voice? Or was it perhaps the witchery of the moonlight? Whatever may have been the cause, a new quality appeared in her voice, and stirred the hearts of all who listened to her singing; it was deep and beautiful.

What wonder if Kenneth Hastings came under the spell of the song and the singer? The New England girl was a breath of summer in the hard and wintry coldness of his life.

"Who taught you to sing?" he asked abruptly.

"The birds," she answered, in a joyous, laughing tone.

"I can well believe that," he continued, "but who were your other instructors?"

Then, in brief, she told him of her musical training.

Would she sing one of his favorite arias some day? naming the aria.

She hummed a s.n.a.t.c.h of it.

"Go on," he urged.

"Not now; some other time."

"Won't you give us an evening recital soon?" asked John Clayton.

And then and there the concert was arranged for.

"Miss Bright," said Mrs. Carmichael, "I am wondering how we ever got on without you."

Esther laughed a light-hearted, merry laugh.

"That's it," Kenneth hastened to say. "We 'got on.' We simply existed.

Now we live."

All laughed at this.

"You are not complimentary to our friends. I protest," said Esther.

"You are growing chivalrous, Kenneth," said Mrs. Clayton. "I'm glad you think as we do. Miss Bright, you have certainly enriched life for all of us."

"Don't embarra.s.s me," said Esther in a tone that betrayed she was a little disconcerted.

But now they were nearing their journey's end. The baying of hounds announced a human habitation. An instant later, the house was in sight, and the dogs came bounding down the road, greeting the party with vociferous barks and growls. Mr. Jamison followed, profuse in words of welcome.

As Kenneth a.s.sisted Esther from the wagon, he said:

"Your presence during this drive has given me real pleasure."

Her simple "Thank you" was her only response.

At the door they were met by daughters of the house, buxom la.s.ses, who ushered them into an immense living room. This opened into two other rooms, one of which had been cleared for dancing.

Esther noted every detail,--a new rag carpet on the floor; a bright-colored log-cabin quilt on one of the beds; on the other bed, was a quilt of white, on which was appliqued a menagerie of nondescript animals of red and green calico, capering in all directions. The particular charm of this work of art was its immaculate quilting,--quilting that would have made our great-grandmothers green with envy.

Cheap yellow paper covered the walls of the room. A chromo, "Fast Asleep," framed in heavy black walnut, hung close to the ceiling. A sewing machine stood in one corner.

At first, Esther did not notice the human element in the room.

Suddenly a little bundle at the foot of the bed began to grunt. She lifted it, and found a speck of humanity about three months old. In his efforts to make his wants known, and so secure his rightful attention, he puckered his mouth, doubled up his fists, grew red in the face, and let forth l.u.s.ty cries.

As she stood trying to soothe the child, the mother rushed in, s.n.a.t.c.hed it from the teacher's arms, and gave it a slap, saying as she did so, "The brat's allus screechin' when I wanter dance!"