LITMIR.BIZ

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light feet, her hat swinging in her hand, she threaded her way between the trees and sprang on to the grassy road beside the river bank.

      He did not follow so quickly, but stood for a moment looking at her, his face pale, his eyes full of a strange, wistful restlessness.

      Then Stella heard his step, firm and masterful, behind her. A sudden impulse tempted her sorely to jump into the boat and push off – she could pull a pair of sculls – and her hand was on the edge of the boat, when she heard the sound of bells, and paused with astonishment. Looking up she saw a tiny phæton drawn by a pair of cream-white ponies coming along the road; it was the bells on their harness that she had heard.

      They came along at a fair pace, and Stella saw that the phæton was being driven by a coachman in dark-brown livery, but the next moment all her attention was absorbed by the young girl who sat beside him.

      She was so fair, so lovely, so ethereal looking, that Stella was spellbound.

      A book was in her hand – ungloved and small and white as a child's – but she was not reading. She held it so loosely that as the phæton came along the top of the bank which hid Stella, the book dropped from the lax grasp of the white fingers.

      The girl uttered an exclamation, and Stella, obeying one of her sudden impulses, sprang lightly up the bank, and picking up the book, held it toward her.

      Her appearance was so sudden that Lady Lilian was startled and for a moment the pale face was dyed with a faint color; even after the moment had passed she sat speechless, and the surprise in her eyes gave place to a frank, generous admiration.

      "Oh, thank you – thank you!" she said. "How kind of you. It was so stupid of me to drop it. But where did you come from – the clouds?" And there was a delicious hint of flattery in the look that accompanied the words.

      "Quite the reverse," said Stella, with her open smile. "I was standing below there, by the boat."

      And she pointed.

      "Oh?" said Lady Lilian. "I did not see you."

      "You were looking the other way," said Stella, drawing back to allow the carriage to proceed; but Lady Lilian seemed reluctant to go, and made no sign to the coachman, who sat holding the reins like an image of stone, apparently deaf and dumb.

      For a few strokes of Time's scythe the two girls looked at each other – the one with the pale face and the blue eyes regarding the fresh, healthful beauty of the other with sad, wistful gaze. Then Lady Lilian spoke.

      "What beautiful primroses! You have been gathering them on the slopes?" with a suggestion of a sigh.

      "Yes," said Stella. "Will you take them?"

      "Oh, no, no; I could not think of robbing you."

      Stella smiled with her characteristic archness.

      "It is I who have been the thief. I have been taking what did not belong to me. You will take these?"

      Lady Lilian was too well bred to refuse; besides, she thirsted for them.

      "If you will give them to me, and will not mind picking some more," she said.

      Stella laid the bunch on the costly sables which wrapped the frail figure.

      Lady Lilian put them to her face with a caressing gesture. "You are, like me, fond of flowers?" she said.

      Stella nodded. "Yes."

      Then there was a pause. Above them, unseen by Lilian, forgotten by Stella, stood Lord Leycester.

      He was watching and waiting with a strange smile. He could read the meaning in his sister's eyes; she was longing to know more of the beautiful girl who had sprang like a fairy to her side.

      With a faint flush, Lady Lilian said:

      "You – you are a stranger, are you not? I mean you do not live here?"

      "Yes," said Stella; "I live" – and she smiled and pointed to the cottage across the meadow – "there."

      Lady Lilian started, and Lord Leycester seized the moment, and coming down, quietly stood by Stella's side.

      "Leycester!" exclaimed Lilian, with a start of surprise.

      He smiled into her eyes, his strange, masterful, irresistible smile. It was as if he had said, "Did I not tell you? Can you withstand her?"

      But aloud he said:

      "Let me make the introduction in due form. This is Miss Etheridge, Lilian. Miss Etheridge, this is my sister. As the French philosopher said, 'Know each other.'"

      Lady Lilian held out her hand.

      "I am very glad," she said.

      Stella took the thin, white hand, and held it for a moment; then Lady Lilian looked from one to the other.

      Lord Leycester interpreted the glance at once.

      "Miss Etheridge has intrusted herself on the watery deep with me," he said. "We came across to gather flowers, leaving Mr. Etheridge to paint there."

      And he waved his hand across the river.

      Lady Lilian looked.

      "I see," she said – "I see. And he is painting. Is he not clever? How proud you must be of him!"

      Stella's eyes grew dark. It was the one word wanting to draw them together. She said not a word.

      "Your uncle and I are old friends," Lady Lilian continued. "Sometime when – when I am stronger, I am coming to see him – when the weather gets warmer – " Stella glanced at the frail form clad in sables, with a moistened eye – "I am going to spend a long afternoon among the pictures. He is always so kind and patient, and explains them all to me. But, as I am not able to come to you, you will come and see me, will you not?"

      There was a moment's silence. Lord Leycester stood looking over the river as if waiting for Stella's reply.

      Stella looked up.

      "I shall be very glad," she said, and Lord Leycester drew a breath, almost of relief.

      "You will, will you not?" said Lady Lilian, with a sweet smile.

      "Yes, I will come," said Stella, almost solemnly.

      "You will find me poor company," said the daughter of the great earl, with meek humility. "I see so little of the world that I grow dull and ignorant; but I shall be so glad to see you," and she held out her hand.

      Stella took it in her warm, soft fingers.

      "I will come," she said.

      Lady Lilian looked at the coachman, who, though his eyes were fixed in quite another direction, seemed to see the glance, for he touched the horses with the whip.

      "Good-bye," she said, "good-bye."

      Then, as the phæton moved on, she called out, in her low, musical voice, that was a low echo of her brother's:

      "Oh, Leycester, Lenore has come!"

      Leycester raised his hat.

      "Very well," he said. "Good-bye."

      Stella stood a moment looking after her. Strangely enough the last words rang in her ears with a senseless kind of insistence and emphasis. "Lenore has come!" She found herself repeating them mentally.

      Recalling herself she turned swiftly to Lord Leycester.

      "How beautiful she is!" she said, almost in a whisper.

      He looked at her with gratitude in his eloquent eyes.

      "Yes."

      "So beautiful and so kind!" Stella murmured, and the tears sprang to her eyes. "I can see her face now. I can hear her voice. I do not wonder that you love her as you do."

      "How do you know that I love her?" he said. "Brothers, generally – "

      Stella stopped him with a gesture.

      "No man with a heart warmer than a stone could help loving her."

      "And so you agree that my heart is warmer than a stone. Thank you for that, at least," he said, with a smile that was not at all unselfish.

      Stella

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