and leisure, but the carpet was worn, the upholstery dingy, and a general air of disuse showed that the days of receptions must be long past. Evidently the Underwoods were not living in the heyday of prosperity. To do Rachel justice, she would not care about that except incidentally. But she would care a great deal about the family's social standing. Burton tried, to the best of his masculine ability, to take an inventory of things that would enable him to answer the questions she was sure to pour out upon him,--always supposing his mission were in any degree successful.

He walked to the window and looked out upon the side garden. Not far from the house was a rustic seat, and here a lady was sitting,--a tall, gray-haired lady, reading a ponderous book. The conviction that this must be Mrs. Underwood made him look at her with the liveliest interest. The servant to whom Burton had given his card came out, in obvious haste and excitement, but the reading lady merely lifted a calm hand to check her, and turned her page without raising her eyes. But she shook her head, seemingly in answer to some question, and the messenger returned hastily to the house. The lady continued to read.

Burton smiled to himself over the little scene. Mrs. Underwood, if this were she, would be able to give points in self-possession to Rachel herself.

But the moment that Leslie Underwood entered the room, Burton forgot all his hesitations and reluctances. In the instant while he bowed before her, his mind took a right-about-face. It was not merely that she was unexpectedly beautiful. That would account for Philip's infatuation, but Burton was a keener judge of human nature. Behind the girl's mask of beauty there looked out a spirit so direct, so genuine, that it was like a touchstone to prove those qualities in others. Burton felt something pull him erect as he looked at her. Philip had drawn a prize which he probably neither understood nor deserved,--and the High Ridge tales about Dr. Underwood were preposterous absurdities. All this in the flash of an eye!

"You wished to see me?" she asked. Her voice had a vibrant ring.

"Yes,--though I am merely an ambassador." (No thought now of modifying his commission!) "I come from Philip Overman."

Her face flushed sensitively at the name.

"Philip has been seriously ill," he said.

 Prev. P 17/170 next