Virgie's Inheritance Part 2

Virgie immediately arose and left the room, and soon after a diminutive Chinaman appeared in the doorway, bearing a lighted lantern, and signifying his readiness to "puttee up te hossee."

Mr. Heath left the house with him, and both were gone some time, attending to the animal's injured leg and trying to make him as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would allow.

During their absence Virgie, at the suggestion of her father, busied herself in arranging a supper for the storm-beaten traveler, who upon his return was greeted by the fumes of steaming coffee, while an appetizing array of cold meats and other viands was spread upon the table, which had been drawn up before the fire.

"I fear Miss Abbot is making herself trouble on my account," Mr. Heath remarked, with a swift and grateful glance at the graceful form and flushed face that was bending over the glowing coals, where the young girl was toasting to a delicate brown a slice from a wheaten loaf.

"No, indeed; it is no trouble; and a meal after your long ride in the rain will not come amiss," Virgie answered, looking up and meeting his fine eyes for an instant.

She deposited the bread upon a plate, and inviting the young man to be seated, poured with her own hands a cup of fragrant coffee, which she placed before him.

She continued to wait upon him with exquisite ease and grace until his hunger was appeased, which was not soon, for it was a rare pleasure for him to watch her beautiful and expressive face while he chatted with her father, sipped his coffee, and ate his toast.

But he finished at length, and then Chi Lu was summoned the table cleared, and the room restored to its usual order.

Mr. Abbot seldom had met a real gentleman since coming among the mountains; he had lived chiefly within himself and for his child. But now he found that he had not lost all interest in the outside world, and he enjoyed immensely Mr. Heath's account of his travels, and his descriptions of men and things.

Virgie had not seen her father so bright and animated in all the five years of their secluded life, and she began to hope that his fears regarding his failing health were groundless after all. She, too, enjoyed the young stranger's conversation, although she did not join in it. She sat by, with her dainty embroidery in her hands, listening, and showing by her expressive face and shining eyes how rare a pleasure such congenial society was to her.

But by and by she stole away to her own room, where she lay far into the night thinking of the handsome stranger--of his eager yet respectful glances when he looked at her; of the low, rich cadence of his voice when he spoke to her, and feeling that she should miss him more than she had ever yet missed anyone during the last five years, when he should go away on the morrow.

The two men talked some time longer after Virgie left; the Chi Lu was called again, the pretty lounge was converted into a comfortable bed, and Mr. Heath was told that the parlor was at his service for the night.

The young man was very thankful for the hearty hospitality of which he had been the recipient, and felt that he had been extremely fortunate in finding such a pleasant abiding-place; but, although he was very weary from his rough and tedious ride over the mountain, he found that slumber was hard to woo, and he, too, lay awake for long hours, wondering over the strange experience of the evening, and what hard fate--for hard he felt sure it must have been--could have driven a cultivated gentleman like Mr.

Abbot, and his peerless daughter, who was so well fitted to shine in the most brilliant circles of the world, away from the haunts of civilization into that wilderness, and among the rude, uncultured, uncongenial people of a mining region.

Chapter III.

Mr. Heath Talks of Becoming a Miner.

The next morning broke fair and beautiful.

Every trace of the storm had pa.s.sed away, save that the dust was laid and all nature looked fresher and brighter for the copious bath it had received.

Virgie Abbot, despite her sleeplessness during the first half of the night, was up at an early hour, superintending breakfast for her father and their guest.

If she had been lovely the previous evening she was doubly so now in her pretty flannel wrapper--for the mornings were chilly in that region, even in the summer The wrapper was of a light blue tint, wonderfully becoming to her delicate complexion, and harmonized well with her eyes and the dainty pink in her cheeks.

Her face wore a brighter, more eager look, than was its wont, this morning, and she was full of life and energy that was born of her youth and sunny, hopeful temperament.

The incidents of the previous evening had been a pleasant break in her hitherto monotonous life, and she was now looking forward, with no small degree of interest, to meeting by daylight the handsome stranger who had taken refuge with them.

During all the years that she had been in that rude place she had not seen one real gentleman, excepting her father; they had never before entertained a visitor, and there had been nothing but her reading and studies, her drawing and fancy work, to vary the quiet, almost dull uniformity of her existence.

Mr. Abbot himself looked brighter and better as he came out from his chamber and gave Virgie his usual morning greeting and caress.

This visit had evidently done him good also, and Virgie took "heart of grace" from the fact, and put aside, for the time at least, the anxious fears that had so burdened her the night before.

Breakfast was served in the simple but clean and cheerful kitchen which led from the parlor, while the small table, laid for three, had almost an air of elegance, with its spotless cloth, its few pieces of silver, china, and cut gla.s.s, relics of former glory, and the tiny vase of flowers, with the dew and rain still on them, which Virgie had gathered from the edge of the cliff near by.

Mr. Heath's glance expressed something of surprise as it swiftly took in these appointments; but to him the fairest sight of all was the slim but perfect figure of the young girl who sat at the head of the table, and poured his coffee, and waited upon him with all the ease and self-possession of one who had been long accustomed to the formalities and etiquette of high life.

The young man wondered at it. There was no other woman in the house, nor had been since they came there, for Mr. Abbot had mentioned that he lost his wife more than six years ago; but this girl was a perfect little hostess, and dainty, to the last degree, in her person. Her hands were white and delicate, the pretty pink nails without a blemish; her hair soft and silken, showing a careful wielding of the brush; her linen collar and cuffs were immaculate, her handkerchief white as snow, and fine and sheer, while everything about her bespoke lady-like refinement and a high regard for nicety of toilet.

He could hardly keep his eyes off her, she was so fair a picture; but once or twice she had looked up and caught his glance, flushed, and fearing to embarra.s.s her, he turned resolutely to his host and opened a subject upon which he had been thinking quite, seriously.

"I understood you to say last evening, I believe, sir, that you were desirous of disposing of your claim," he remarked.

"Yes; my health is too poor to admit of my working it any longer, and I should be glad to dispose of it to the right person," Mr. Abbot replied.

"I think I know of some one who would like it, if it is still a promising one," the young man said, but a conscious color flushed his cheek slightly as he felt Virgie's eyes turned upon him.

"I honestly believe that it is richer to-day than when I began to work it," Mr. Abbot a.s.serted confidently. "However," he added, "I do not ask you to take my word for it. If you know a party who would like to purchase, tell him to bring an expert and examine for himself; and even then if he is not satisfied to buy outright, he may work it upon shares until he is convinced of its value."

"That is fair, I am sure," said Mr. Heath.

"Perhaps you would like to take a look at it before you go?" suggested his host, who was eager to dispose of his property.

"I would, I a.s.sure you," was the reply; "but there is hardly time this morning, for I feel that I must join my party immediately, else they will be anxious regarding my safety. We are bound upon an excursion through the northern portion of the State, and intend to be absent a week or more; but after that, if you will permit me, I will return here and investigate matters--that is, if you will give me the refusal of the claim until then."

As the young man said this, his glance involuntarily wandered again to the beautiful face of Virgie.

There must have been something magnetic in his gaze, for she raised her white lids just then, and met the earnest, wistful look bent upon her.

A flush leaped to her cheek, and her violet eyes dropped instantly upon her plate again, while her heart fluttered like a caged wild bird.

"I will gladly wait your time, Mr. Heath," Mr. Abbot responded, in a satisfied tone. "I begin to think that your losing your way and falling to our care last evening was providential."

"I have no doubt of it, sir," was the grave and reverent reply. "I believe that all our ways are ordered for us; that everything is arranged for us by an All-wise Power."

Something very like a sneer curled the almost colorless lips of his host at this unexpected a.s.sertion.

Mr. Abbot was no believer in the individuality of G.o.d, and had spoken both lightly and at random when he had referred to the young man's visit as being providential.

"What do you mean by an All-wise Power?" he asked, skeptically.

"I mean G.o.d, sir."

"You believe there is a G.o.d, then?"

"Certainly; do you not?" and Mr. Heath's kind, grave eyes looked pityingly into the haggard, sunken face before him.

They seemed almost to say, "If you have not this belief to comfort you, with the hand of death laid upon your very heart, I grieve inexpressibly for you."