satirical nor philosophical, and presently, when Jane reentered, with
color in her alkaline face, and light in her huckleberry eyes, and said
she was going over to the cattle-sheds in the "far pasture," to see
if the hired man didn't know of some horse that could be got for the
stranger, Mrs. Rylands felt a little bitterness in the thought that the
girl would have scarcely volunteered to go all that distance in the rain
for HER. Yet, in a few moments she forgot all about it, and even the
presence of her guest in the house, and in one of her fitful abstracted
employments passed through the dining-room into the kitchen, and had
opened the door with an "Oh, Jane!" before she remembered her absence.
The kitchen, lit by a single candle, could be only partly seen by her
as she stood with her hand on the lock, although she herself was plainly
visible. There was a pause, and then a quiet, self-possessed, yet
amused, voice answered:--
"My name isn't Jane, and if you're the lady of the house, I reckon yours
wasn't ALWAYS Rylands."
At the sound of the voice Mrs. Rylands threw the door wide open, and as
her eyes fell upon the speaker--her unknown guest--she recoiled with a
little cry, and a white, startled face. Yet the stranger was young and
handsome, dressed with a scrupulousness and elegance which even the
stress of travel had not deranged, and he was looking at her with
a smile of recognition, mingled with that careless audacity and
self-possession which seemed to be the characteristic of his face.
"Jack Hamlin!" she gasped.
"That's me, all the time," he responded easily, "and YOU'RE Nell
Montgomery!"
"How did you know I was here? Who told you?" she said impetuously.
"Nobody! never was so surprised in my life! When you opened that door
just now you might have knocked me down with a feather." Yet he spoke
lazily, with an amused face, and looked at her without changing his
position.
"But you MUST have known SOMETHING! It was no mere accident," she went
on vehemently, glancing around the room.
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