Virgie's Inheritance Part 3

"If there is, I imagine He must allow Satan to have the control of some of our lives," was the evasive and bitter retort. "Virgie, Mr. Heath's cup is empty."

But his face flushed and his hands trembled as he thus abruptly turned the topic, showing how deeply the subject moved him; notwithstanding his pretended unbelief.

"Thanks; no more coffee for me," Mr. Heath said, with a smile and a bow to his young hostess, as she offered to replenish his cup; but he noticed that there was a troubled, anxious look in her eyes as they rested upon her father.

He made no reply to Mr. Abbot's remark, although he looked a trifle hurt.

He simply said, as he folded his napkin and pushed back his plate:

"I must ask you to excuse me and my lack of ceremony if I bid you good morning, and take French leave. I feel that I ought to get on my way as soon as possible; and believe me I am very grateful for your hospitality and courtesy."

Virgie arose as he spoke, and like the true little lady that she was, a.s.sured him that it had been a delight to entertain him, and she should look forward with pleasure to his return.

He thanked her, shook hands warmly with her, and then left the house, followed by Mr. Abbot, who watched him depart with a feeling of regret such as he had not experienced over any one during all the years of his exile.

Still he pleasantly antic.i.p.ated his coming again, when he meant to make him remain several days.

He had been strangely attracted toward him from the moment when he had first heard his mellow, sympathetic tones, asking to be directed to a place of shelter. He knew that he possessed a grand character, for he carried the stamp of true n.o.bility upon his frank, handsome face.

"That is a promising young man, Virgie," he said, as he returned to the parlor after watching the horse and its rider disappear down the mountain.

"I should like to know where he came from, and more about him."

Virgie did not reply, but she turned away from the window where she, too, had been watching the receding horseman, with a shy, sweet smile on her red lips. William Heath's last glance had been for her, as he doffed his hat and bowed low in his saddle when he turned down the road.

During all the week that followed her step was lighter and her face brighter than its wont, and she went singing about the house to the delight of her father, who was now at home all the day long, as he had given up going to the mine.

Mr. Abbot had appeared very thoughtful after the departure of his young guest, often falling into a profound reverie, in which he would sit for hours.

Virgie often wondered what he could be thinking about, but she did not feel like questioning him, lest he should refer again to the painful topic of his leaving her.

One day, however, coming into the room suddenly, she saw her mother's bible in his hands, and she was sure there were tears in his eyes. She appeared not to notice either his employment or his emotion, but soon stole softly away again, and went weeping up to her own room.

After that he busied himself with writing a great deal, and she felt sure that he was making arrangements for her of which he had spoken on that stormy evening. A great dread came over her at the thought of being left alone in the world; and yet, in spite of all, she looked forward to the return of Mr. Heath with more of pleasure and antic.i.p.ation than she had known for many a year.

Thus more than a week went by, and one afternoon Virgie, her father being asleep and the house oppressively still, took her book and went out to a little nook back of her cottage, where she was in the habit of going to study, and where Chi Lu had built a rustic seat for her beneath a great pine tree that grew out of a cleft in the mountain.

But she could not concentrate her thoughts upon the page before her; they went roving after a coal black steed and its handsome rider, until finally her book dropped from her hands, her eyes fixed themselves dreamily upon the lofty, far-off peaks of the Humboldt Mountains, and she was lost to time and place--everything save her own delightful musings.

So absorbed was she that she was not aware of the approach of any one until a small but exquisitely arranged bouquet of mountain flowers were laid upon the seat beside her, and a rich but well remembered voice said:

"Pardon me, Miss Abbot, for intruding upon your solitude, but Chi Lu told me that Mr. Abbot was resting and could not be disturbed at present, and that I should find you here."

Virginia sprang to her feet, the tint of the wild rose in her cheeks, her violet eyes grown black with repressed excitement.

"Mr. Heath?" she cried, her scarlet lips parting in a bewildering smile.

"Yes; forgive me for having startled you so," he said, gently, then adding with a twinkle of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes. "You were surely in a very brown study."

"I am afraid I was," she returned, laughing. "But what lovely flowers!"

she continued, taking them up and bending to inhale their fragrance. "How kind of you to gather them for me."

The young man's eyes lingered about her in a delighted gaze, for she made the fairest picture imaginable standing there in her soft gray dress with its collar and cuffs of black velvet, a knot of scarlet ribbon at her throat, the brilliant flowers in her hands, and a fleecy white shawl wrapped about her shoulders. Her shining hair was gathered into a satiny brown coil at the back of her head and pinned with a silver arrow, while a few naturally curling locks lay lightly on her forehead. The dark, moss-grown rock was behind her; the softly waving plumy boughs of the pine tree above her, a carpet of tender green beneath her feet.

"You are still trembling from the shock that I have given you," he said in a tone of self-reproach, and noticing how the flowers quivered in her grasp, "pray, pardon me and give me a handshake of welcome, or I shall almost regret that I came."

She looked up frankly into his dark eyes, and laid her small hand unhesitatingly in his.

"You are very welcome, Mr. Heath," she said, "and I am sure that papa will be very glad to see you."

William Heath smiled at her words.

He felt sure that she, too, was glad to see him--that his coming was a pleasant break in the monotony of her life; her varying color, the bright, happy gleam of her eyes told him this.

Her wonderful beauty, so out of place in that wild region, thrilled him strangely. Her queenly manner, her delicacy and refinement astonished him, and he wondered more and more what mysterious circ.u.mstances could have combined to drive two such cultivated people so far from civilization to hide themselves in the rugged fastnesses of those dreary mountains.

Chapter IV.

A Mountain Ramble.

"You were reading," he remarked, stooping to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground as she arose. "Tacitus!" he added, in a tone of astonishment, as his eye fell upon the t.i.tle page.

"Yes, I am reviewing; papa likes me to study a little every day, still,"

Virgie returned, quietly, while she examined her flowers with a critical eye, and wondered that a gentleman could have arranged them so well.

He must be an artist, she thought, for no one save an artist, or a lover of art, could have taken such pains to harmonize colors like that.

"I should suppose you would labor under serious difficulties in trying to pursue your studies in such a place as this," Mr. Heath remarked.

"Oh, no, papa is a fine scholar, and he makes a most delightful teacher."

"And have you pursued a regular course under him?"

"Yes, partly. I left school when I was fifteen, but I have kept right on the same as I should have done if I had remained, and I graduated two years ago," she concluded, smiling archly at the idea of graduating in that wild country.

"And with high honors, of course," said her companion in the same vein.

"Certainly; with all the honors, since there was no one to compete with me or to bear away the palm from me. But, Mr. Heath, you must be both weary and hungry after your ride over the mountains; come in, and let me get you a lunch," Virgie concluded, on hospitable thoughts intent.

"No, indeed, thank you; I will eat nothing until tea time, when, if you will permit me, I will gladly join you. I should much prefer to sit here and enjoy this magnificent view with you to going indoors."

He seated himself, as he spoke, upon the rustic seat, and Virgie, following his example, they fell into a pleasant chat, which lasted more than an hour.

Virgie never forgot that delicious hour, neither did her companion, who was every moment growing more deeply interested in the beautiful mountain maiden.