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'And there's a great opportunity for cultivation of the mind afforded by intercourse with foreign countries. I always admire Cynthia's grace of manner, never too shy to speak, yet never putting herself forwards; she's quite a help to a party; and if she has a few airs and graces, why they're natural at her age!
"Do you?" exclaimed Miss Duncan, in surprise; "I wish somebody would serenade me. I think it was the most romantic thing Bob ever did. He's wild about you, and so is Somers they have both told me so in confidence." Cynthia's face was naturally burning now. "If it were true," she said, "they wouldn't have told you about it."
The vista of happiness suddenly opened up, widened and widened until it was too bright for Cynthia's vision, and she would compel her mind to dwell on another prospect, that of the father and son reconciled. Although her temples throbbed, she tried to analyze the letter. It implied that Mr.
Sometimes, in the privacy of his home, Jethro was known to chuckle, and to Cynthia's surprise he chuckled more than usual that evening. "Uncle Jethro," she said at length, when she had laid the paper down, "I thought that you sent Mr. Sutton to Congress." Jethro leaned forward. "What put that into your head, Cynthy?" he asked.
He was tall and broad and good to look upon and youth went out to youth cordially and frankly. "I reckon" the homely word took the place of the Yankee "guess" naturally, "I reckon you are Miss Cynthia Walden?" "Yes." Cynthia's eyes shone. "Who told you?" "I heard about you." This was very lame, but it answered. "And you sir?" "Oh, I am the man from the North."
Such a feeling must come over all workers, occasionally. Yes," said Miss Lucretia, "there have been times when I have been sorry, my dear, though I have never confessed it to another soul. I am telling you this for your own good not mine. If you have the love of a good man, Cynthia, be careful what you do with it." The tears had come into Cynthia's eyes.
"He's the brother of that woman the woman that Sydney Vane used to meet in the wood so often, and thought that nobody knew. Did he did he " But, raising his eyes suddenly, he saw the whiteness of Cynthia's face, and did not finish his question. "Listen to me!" he said, with sudden sternness. "This man belongs to them that put me in prison and believe me to have murdered Sydney Vane.
"Why, have you broken off with that young man?" said Westwood sharply. "Not altogether." The remembrance of the previous night's kiss under the umbrella made Cynthia's cheeks burn red as she replied. "But since I know what you have told me that he is a relative of the Vanes of Beechfield I have determined that it cannot go on. He and his family would hate me if they knew.
Indeed, Cynthia's moods alternated between wide-eyed enjoyment and sheer regret, for each romantic ruin and charming countryside not only aroused her enthusiasm but evoked a longing to remain riveted to the spot. Yet she would not be a woman if there were not exceptions to this rule, as shall be seen in due course. Mrs.
The night was moonless, yet sufficiently clear for objects to be perceived against the sky, and presently the black shadow of him who rode behind loomed up upon the road, not a hundred paces off. Despite Cynthia's orders not to fire, he of the musketoon raised his weapon under cover of the darkness and blazed at the approaching shadow.
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