“Is that so!” replied his brother, with a curious downward inflection, “unfortunately, then, for Mr. Houston and Miss Gladden, you will have to take the other boat, as I am going in this one myself,” and stepping lightly into the boat, he pulled it quickly out into the water, leaving Ned in a state of bewilderment, alone on shore, as Mr. Houston and Miss Gladden were already seated in their boat, and watching this little by-play.
There was a general laugh at Ned’s expense, as he clambered into the other boat, exclaiming good-naturedly:
“Well, Mort, that’s an awfully shabby trick, but then, it’s all I can expect of you, anyhow.”
“It’s all you deserve, after such attempted selfishness on your part,” replied his brother.
They rowed across the lake in the soft light, the glory of the setting sun still reflected from the surrounding peaks, the music of their boat songs accompanied by the dip and plash of the oars.
At last they reached the cascades, and rounding a little promontory, the glory of that wondrous scene suddenly burst upon them. For a moment Mr. Rutherford sat speechless, and Lyle, facing him, silently enjoyed his surprise and his ecstasy as keenly as he enjoyed the wonderful beauty about him. In his face, she read the same capacity for joy or for suffering which Nature had bestowed upon herself, and when his eyes suddenly met hers again, he saw the tears glistening in their shining depths, and with quick, intuitive sympathy, readily understood the cause.
For a while they rowed back and forth in almost silent admiration; then the boats were brought side by side at the foot of the cascades, and the air resounded with song; sometimes their voices all blending together in exquisite harmony, then in twos and threes, while occasionally, some beautiful old song would be given as a solo.
It had been an evening of rare enjoyment for each one, and they were just about to turn their boats homeward, when Ned Rutherford exclaimed:
“I say, don’t let us leave this spot until Miss Maverick sings that song she gave us the first time we came out here, the first we ever heard her sing. I never can forget that song, and it is always associated with this place.”
The others joined in the request. Lyle hesitated. Could she trust herself to sing that song to-night? It was easy to sing when love had come to another’s heart, but could she sing it now that he had come to her own?