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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Bess, did you ever see her face look hard with all your heart an' soul?" "The eyes seem to haunt me," whispered Bess. "Oh, I can't remember they're eyes of my dreams but but " Lassiter's strong arm went round her and he bent his head. "Child, I thought you'd remember her eyes. They're the same beautiful eyes you'd see if you looked in a mirror or a clear spring. They're your mother's eyes.
It swung slowly and stubbornly, yet surely, and gradually assumed a long, beautiful curve of moving white. To Jane's amaze she saw the leaders swinging, turning till they headed back toward her and up the valley. Out to the right of these wild plunging steers ran Lassiter's black, and Jane's keen eye appreciated the fleet stride and sure-footedness of the blind horse.
Miss Olymphia Lassiter's school may have held you and Nell, but it will never hold young Charlotte," Nickols jeered, as father began to roll up the map and speak to a young man that the great Wilkerson of White Plains had sent down to juggle with the flora and fauna of the Harpeth Valley. I turned from Nickols' raillery and surveyed the great American garden.
They would go back to Lassiter's trail and follow it, and follow in vain. So Venters rode on, with the wind growing sweeter to taste and smell, and the purple sage richer and the sky bluer in his sight; and the song in his ears ringing. By and by Bess halted to wait for him, and he knew she had come to the trail.
"I never seen their like," was Lassiter's encomium, "an' in my day I've seen a sight of horses. Now, ma'am, if you was wantin' to make a long an' fast ride across the sage say to elope " Lassiter ended there with dry humor, yet behind that was meaning. Jane blushed and made arch eyes at him. "Take care, Lassiter, I might think that a proposal," she replied, gaily.
No time in the long period of fiery moments and sudden shocks had Jane Withersteen ever beheld Lassiter as calm and serene and cool as then. "Jane had gloom enough without my addin' to it by shootin' up the village," he said. As strange as Lassiter's coolness was Venters's curious, intent scrutiny of them both, and under it Jane felt a flaming tide wave from bosom to temples.
A few times Jane had seen Lassiter's cool calm broken when he had met little Fay, when he had learned how and why he had come to love both child and mistress, when he had stood beside Milly Erne's grave. But one and all they could not be considered in the light of his present agitation.
"Jane, you never played fair with me. But now you're blisterin' your lips blackenin' your soul with lies!" "By the memory of my mother by my Bible no! No, I have no Bible! But by my hope of heaven I swear I love you!" Lassiter's gray lips formed soundless words that meant even her love could not avail to bend his will.
There's no mystery except your love for me. You have come back to me!" And she clasped his head tenderly in her arms and pressed it closely to her throbbing breast. At the home of Jane Withersteen Little Fay was climbing Lassiter's knee. "Does oo love me?" she asked.
Then might come her ruin. Then might come her fall into black storm. Yet she would rise again, and to the light. God would be merciful to a driven woman who had lost her way. A week passed. Little Fay played and prattled and pulled at Lassiter's big black guns. The rider came to Withersteen House oftener than ever. Jane saw a change in him, though it did not relate to his kindness and gentleness.
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