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"You said," observed Eileen, "that you preferred an untrimmed wilderness; didn't you?" He laughed and reeled in his line until only six inches of the gossamer leader remained free. From this dangled a single silver-bodied fly, glittering in the wind.
"Rosamund spoke of scandal to Eileen?" he repeated. "Is that possible?" "How long do you suppose a girl can live and not hear scandal of some sort?" said Nina. "It's bound to rain some time or other, but I prepared my little duck's back to shed some things." "You say," insisted Selwyn, "that Rosamund spoke of me in that way to Eileen?" "Yes. It only made the child angry, Phil; so don't worry."
Major Evelyn perceived that his hostess was listening and turned to her with a courteous intention to include her in the conversation. He was charming to all women, this big man, with the irresistible gaiety. Poor Eileen, she had been playing off all her little charms upon him, and in vain.
"I am very sorry if it annoys or inconveniences you, Miss Strong, but since the settlement of the estate takes place tomorrow, our orders are to pay out no funds in any way connected with the estate until after that settlement has been arranged." "But this is my money, my own private affair," begged Eileen. "The estate has nothing to do with it." "I am sorry," repeated the teller.
"But it is a couple of years ago," he explained. "It was hard work, I assure you." "Did your mother know?" Eileen asked with a little whimsical look. "Of course not. She would have been horrified." "Well, but most people would be surprised." "Yes. Put your muscle into an oar or a cricket bat and you are a hero; put your muscle into a spade and you are a madman."
That's wholesome and natural; and that's the way things really are. Look at Eileen. Do you suppose she has the slightest suspicion of what love is?" "Naturally not," said Selwyn. "Correct. Only a fool novelist would attribute the deeper emotions to a child like that. What does she know about anything?
"Am I speaking with Mr. James Heitman?" she asked. "Yes," came the answer. "Well, Uncle Jim, this is Eileen." "Why, hello, girlie," was the quick response. "Delighted that you're calling your ancient uncle. Haven't changed the decision in the last letter I had from you, have you?" "Yes," said Eileen, "I have changed it. Do you and Aunt Caroline still want me, Uncle Jim?"
Then they were curious and made remarks and asked questions. She began to think them rather horrid. "We saw Lord Coombe yesterday," said Winifred at last, and the unnecessary giggle followed. "We think he wears the most beautiful clothes we ever saw! You remember his overcoat, Winnie?" said Eileen. "He MATCHES so and yet you don't know exactly how he matches," and she giggled also.
He had dreamed of such faces beside camp-fires, in the deep loneliness of long nights in the forests, when he had awakened to bring before him visions of what Eileen Brokaw might have been to him if he had found her one of these people. He drew himself closer to the rock. The girl turned again to the edge of the cliff, her slender form silhouetted against the starlit sky.
"But do you confirm what she says there, Mr. Grell?" Grell reached out, and took the paper with a hand that shook. He scanned it quickly, and handed it back to the superintendent. "She is right in everything she says about me," he admitted. "I did think God forgive me! that my own eyes were right. I believed that Eileen had killed that man. That it was influenced me in everything I did.
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