The train drew up at the station. Yes, there was the piebald horse,

and there was the cart with the gory wheels, and there--yes,

certainly, there was Dorothy, a slender, nervous-looking girl of

twenty, standing at the horse's head! Be she what she might,

politically, socially, or morally, Mr. Henley decided at the first

glance that she would do. With a flourish of his crimson handkerchief

he stepped out upon the platform. "Rash man! You have put your foot

in it," he soliloquized, "and you may never, never be able to take

it out again." But he could as soon have passed the open doors of

Paradise unheeded as Dorothy Guir at that moment.

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"Mr. Henley! So glad!" said the girl in recognition of the young

man's hesitating and somewhat prolonged bow. "He's a little afraid of

the engine," she continued, alluding now to the horse, "so if you

will jump in and take the reins while I hold his head--"

Paul tossed in his bag and satchels, and then jumping in himself

gathered up the reins, while the girl stood at the animal's head.

Although Mr. Henley had hoped to find an attractive young woman

awaiting him at the station, he was surprised to discover that his

most sanguine expectations were exceeded. Here was no blue-stocking,

or agitator, or superannuated spinster, but a graceful young woman,

rather tall and slight, with blue eyes, set with dark lashes that

intensified their color. Her complexion, although slightly freckled,

charmed by its wholesomeness; and her hair, which shone both dark and

red, according as the light fell upon it, seemed almost too heavy for

the delicate head and neck that supported it. Although not strictly

beautiful, she had one of those intelligent and responsive faces that

are often more attractive than mere perfection of feature and form.

"It does seem funny that you are here at last!" she said, when seated

beside him with the reins in her hand.

"It does indeed!" answered Paul, with a suspicion that he was a

villain and ought to be kicked. For a moment he scowled and bit his

mustache, hesitating whether to make a clean breast of the deception

or continue in the role he had assumed. Alas, it was no longer of his

choosing. He had commenced with a lie, which he now found it

impossible to repudiate. No, he could not insult this girl by telling

her the truth. That surely was out of the question.

Miss Guir touched the horse with the whip, and the station was soon

out of sight. They ascended a long hill with gullies, bordered by

worm fences and half-cultivated fields. Such improvements as there

were appeared in a state of decay, and, so far as Henley could see,

the country was uninhabited. Presently the road entered a wood and

became carpeted with pine tags, over which they trotted noiselessly.

Where were they going? Dorothy had not spoken since starting, and

Paul was too much disconcerted to continue the conversation. He hoped

she would speak first, and yet dreaded anything which it seemed at

all probable she would say. The novelty was intense, but the agony

was growing. At last, without looking at him, she said: "You haven't told me why you never answered my last letter. You know

we have been expecting you for ages."




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