Arriving at The Pines, he received the usual welcome, but neither its
undemonstrative affection nor the restful quiet of the old home could
soothe or satisfy him that night. But if his host and hostess noted the
gloom on his face or his restless manner they made no comments and asked
no questions.
On going upstairs at a late hour he went across the hall to the
libraries in search of a book with which to pass away the time, as he
was unable to sleep. He had no definite book in mind and wandered
aimlessly through both rooms, reading titles in an abstracted manner,
until he came at last face to face with the picture of Kate Underwood.
He had seen it many times without especially observing it, but in his
present mood it appealed to him as never before. The dark eyes seemed
fixed upon his face with a look of entreaty from which he could not
escape, and, drawing a chair in front of the easel, he sat down and
became absorbed in a study of the picture. Heretofore he had considered
it merely the portrait of a very young and somewhat plain girl. Now he
was surprised to find that the more it was studied in detail, the more
favorable was the impression produced. Though childish and immature,
there was not a weak line in the face. The nose and mouth were
especially fine, the former denoting distinct individuality, the latter
marked strength and sweetness of character; and while the upper part of
the face indicated keen perceptions and quick sympathies, the general
contour showed a nature strong either to do or to endure. The eyes were
large and beautiful, but it was not their beauty which riveted Darrell's
attention; it was their look of wistful appeal, of unsatisfied longing,
which led him at last to murmur, while his eyes moistened,-"You dear child! How is it that in your short life, surrounded by all
that love can provide, you have come to know such heart hunger as that?"
Long after he had returned to his room those eyes still haunted him,
nor could he banish the conviction that some time, somewhere, in that
young life there had been an unfilled void which in some degree, however
slight, corresponded to the blank emptiness of his own.
The next morning Darrell attended church with Mrs. Dean. The latter was
a strict church-woman, and Darrell, by way of showing equal courtesy to
host and hostess, usually accompanied her in the morning, devoting the
afternoon to Mr. Underwood.
After lunch he and Mr. Underwood seated themselves in one of the sunny
bay-windows for their customary chat, Mrs. Dean having gone to her room
for the afternoon nap which was as much a part of her Sunday programme
as the morning sermon.