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The fire was still there, but no longer a leaping flame. A dull glow in the darkness of the forest aisles was all that indicated its position. Rylands at once plunged in that direction; he was near enough to see the red embers when he heard a sharp click, and a voice called: "Hold up!" Mr. Hamlin was a light sleeper. The crackle of underbrush had been enough to disturb him.
Tebrick could do was to keep her from going into Stokoe to the village, where she would meet all her old cronies and where there were certain to be any number of inquiries about what was going on at Rylands and so on.
Tebrick forgot her altogether, or else reckoned her as a mere baby and not to be thought of as a danger. He talked the thing over with Mrs. Cork, and they decided upon it out of hand. The truth is the old woman was beginning to regret that her love and her curiosity had ever brought her back to Rylands, since so far she had got much work and little credit by it. When it was settled, Mr.
Rylands threw the door wide open, and as her eyes fell upon the speaker her unknown guest she recoiled with a little cry, and a white, startled face.
Mr. Rylands sat down to the harmonium, as Mrs. Rylands briskly moved the table and chairs against the wall. Mr. Rylands played slowly and strenuously, as from a conscientious regard of the instrument. Mrs. Rylands stood in the centre of the floor, making a rather pretty, animated picture, as she again stimulated the heavy harmonium swell not only with her voice but her hands and feet.
At last his anxiety began working another way, that is he came to think it possible that his vixen would have gone back to Stokoe, so he had his horses harnessed in the dogcart and brought to the door and then drove over to Rylands, though he was still in a fever, and with a heavy cold upon him.
Jane entered, with a slight toss of her head. "Here's your expressman, ef you're wantin' him NOW." Mrs. Rylands was too preoccupied to notice her handmaiden's significant emphasis, as she indicated a fresh-looking, bashful young fellow, whose confusion was evidently heightened by the unexpected egress of Mr. Hamlin, and the point-blank presence of the handsome Mrs. Rylands.
Rylands quickly. "She lit a cigaretty that day she called." "I hate it," said Mrs. Rylands shortly. Mr. Rylands nodded approval, and puffed meditatively. "Josh, have you seen that girl since?" "No," said Joshua. "Nor any other girl like her?" "No," said Joshua wonderingly. "You see I only got to know her on your account, Ellen, that she might see you." "Well, don't you do it any more! None of 'em!
Rylands gazed anxiously and timidly at her husband's astonished face, as he threw off his waterproof and laid down his carpet-bag. Her own face was a little flurried with excitement, and his, half hidden in his tawny beard, and, possibly owing to his self-introspective nature, never spontaneously sympathetic, still expressed only wonder! Mrs. Rylands was a little frightened.
By the good glow of the leaping fire, that figure standing erect before it, elegantly shaped, in the graceful folds of a serape, looked singularly romantic and picturesque, and reminded Joshua Rylands whose ideas of art were purely reminiscent of boyish reading of some picture in a novel.
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