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But Virgie's eyes were on neither the hidden stone nor her father's watchful, relentless face. All that Virgie could see was a knapsack open on the ground and food real food displayed round about with a prodigality which made her mouth water and her eyes as big as saucers. "Daddy," she murmured, clutching at his sleeve, "while we are waitin' do you reckon we could take just a little bit of that?"
If I myself had had " But she stops before this baseness to poor old Horatio. "I want Virgie's life to be different from mine so utterly different!" A wave of self-pity for her loneliness after all her struggle sweeps over her and casts a cloud on her face. "You can't be a business woman and make that kind of home for your daughter," Duncan persists, pushing forward his point.
Farnum returned; but there was a vivid flush on her cheek as she told the wretched lie, even while she was literally speaking the truth. A convulsion of pain passed over Virgie's face. "True; but it is all so strange," she said, wearily. "And I suppose she loves him?" "I believe her life would be ruined if anything should happen to part them," said the woman, ruthlessly.
"Are you fond of her poetry, Mrs. Heath?" "Yes," Virgie answered, "I think some of her poems are very sweet." Mrs. Farnum glanced absently at two or three, then turned to the fly leaf of the book, while Virgie's eyes mechanically followed her movements. The name of William Heath was written there. Mrs. Farnum looked up surprised, then smiled.
"Mamma's heart has been nearly broken at the thought of this ill-assorted marriage, and I believe the excitement and grief would have killed her outright, if you had brought her," with a withering glance at Virgie's picture, "to Heathdale to reign as mistress." Sir William was tried almost beyond endurance.
He remained in New York for more than a month, searching the city from end to end, employing detectives advertising in the papers, and using every means he could think of to gain some clew to Virgie's hiding-place; but all to no purpose; and he finally came to the conclusion that she must have left the metropolis. But whither had she gone?
I know what you think, old chap, without your lifting your eyebrows up to your hair; but, by Jove! Virgie's got an instinct that's like the needle of a compass. When she says 'north, I'd bet my bottom dollar it was north, that's all. If I don't object to Virgie's associating with the Countess, you needn't yet, anyhow.
Hurriedly he went on: "If it's O.K. about the car, have Virgie's chauffeur drive you home and leave it in front of the building where the neighbors can get a peek at it. I'll arrange about the garage when I get back." "Very well." Waving his hand, he made his way toward the door: "Then good-bye.
"She will, too, Samson, if you do that, I believe," Roxy cried; "see how she's a-smiling and coloring about it." Virgie's throat was sending up its tremors to her long-lashed eyes, and a wild, speculative something throbbed in her slender wrists and beat in the little jacket that was moulded to her swelling form: the first sight of freedom in the wild doe freedom, and a mate. "My soul!"
So much, at least, for the ordinary chances of war he was beginning to wonder how much had been added to these perils by the matter of the pass and whether his superiors would see the situation as it had appeared to his eyes. Into this sad reverie Virgie's soft voice entered with a gentleness which roused but did not startle him.
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