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He told himself that so utterly human, so perfectly feminine a being as she must be burning with curiosity; she marvelled that he could think, speak of anything else. When together they rose from the table they were alike prepared, should circumstance so direct, to be friends. She was going now to call upon the Engles. She had told him that she had a letter to Mrs.
Sturtevant, the president; for he was eager to hear of England, and Oxford and Eton. I was fascinated with this experiment of a college in the wilderness. He loaned me many books; and I often spent an evening at his house. In September I decided to go out to the farm and live with the Engles.
At the hotel he learned that Virginia had gone to the Engles. He left his jaded horse with Ignacio and walked down the street. In front of the Casa Blanca he stopped a moment, staring musingly at the solid adobe walls gleaming white in the moonlight. The place was quiet, deserted. No single light winked at him through door or window.
Another Indian offered her a pair of chickens; a third paid her seventy-five cents on account and promised the rest soon. When she came to know his type better she realized that he had done exceptionally well by her. She went often to the Engles', growing to love all three of them, each in a different way.
Now . . . do you think that you can forgive me?" He appeared to be pondering the matter. When his reply came it was couched in the form of a question: "Would you have done it, Virginia . . . if you didn't love me a little as I love you?" And her answer comforted him. He was sleeping when the Engles came.
About the year 1150, five years before the death of Geoffrey, an Anglo-Norman, Geoffrey Gaimar, wrote the first French metrical chronicle. It consisted of two parts, the Estorie des Bretons and the Estorie des Engles, of which only the latter is extant, but the former is known to have been a rhymed translation of the Historia of Geoffrey of Monmouth.
When one evening, after having failed to show himself for a full month, Rod Norton came to the Engles', found Elmer and Virginia there, and suggested the ride to the King's Palace, he awakened no end of enthusiasm. Elmer had a day off, thanks to the generosity of his employer, Mr.
Engle from a common friend in Richmond. "I don't want to appear to be riding too hard on your trail," he smiled at her. "But I was planning dropping in on the Engles myself this evening. They're friends of mine, you know." She laughed, and as they left the hotel, propounded a riddle for him to answer: Should Mr. Norton introduce her to Mrs.
"I am going to advise Engle to take the bulk of his money out of the bank, dig a hole, and hide it," he answered. "Just to be sure in case we don't stop them." He knew that he had no time to waste tonight, and so as he and Virginia entered the Engles' living-room he began immediately telling the banker what had happened and what he feared was set to happen. Engle listened gravely.
Translated into English, 1st ed, I., H.M. Kennedy, New York, 1888, II., i., W.C. Robinson, 1893, II., ii., L.D. Schmidt, 1896. GEOFFREY GAIMAR, L'Estorie des Engles, ed. GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH, Historia Regum Britanniae, ed. Translated, J.A. Giles, Six Old English Chronicles, London, 1896; S. Evans, London, 1903. LAYAMON, Brut, ed. with translation, Sir F. Madden, 3 vols, London, 1847.
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