"You are just going out, Brian?" she said. "That is fortunate, for I wanted to ask you to go to drive with us; but I knew you were with your uncle, and he is so fond of your society that I did not like to disturb you. But now you will come, of course. Only Miss Lynde and myself are going. I believe you have not yet met Miss Lynde—ah, here she is!"
For, as they came out on the portico together, they found Marion already there. Words of polite refusal were on Earle's lips—for had he not just remarked that he did not care to drive?—but when his glance fell on the beautiful girl, to whom Mrs. Singleton at once presented him, those words found no expression. It was natural enough that, with the delight of the artist in beauty, he should have felt that the presence of such a face put the question of driving in a new aspect altogether. It would be a pleasure to study that face, and a pleasure to discover if the mind and the spirit behind were worthy of such a shrine.
So, after handing the ladies into the open carriage that awaited them, he followed, and took his seat opposite the face that attracted him, as it had attracted the admiration of everyone who ever looked at it. Marion herself was so accustomed to this admiration that the perception of it in Earle's eyes neither surprised nor elated her. She took it as a matter of course,—a matter which might or might not prove of importance,—and meanwhile regarded rather curiously on her part the man who carelessly put a fortune aside in order to follow his own will and his own chosen path of life. On this remarkable conduct she had already speculated more than once. Did it mean that he was a fool—as Mrs. Singleton plainly thought,—or did it mean that he had a belief in himself and in his own powers, which made him stronger than other men, and therefore able to dispense with the aid which they so highly desired?
She had not sat opposite him for many minutes before she was able to answer the first question. Decidedly he was not a fool—not even in that modified sense in which people of artistic, imaginative temperaments are sometimes held to be fools by the strictly practical. But with regard to the other question, decision was not so easy. Nothing in his appearance, manner or speech indicated any extraordinary belief in himself; but Marion had sufficient keenness of perception to recognize that, under his unassuming quietness, power of some sort existed. It might be the power to accomplish great things, or it might only be the power to content himself with moderate ones; but it was certainly not an altogether ordinary nature that looked out of the clear gray eyes, and spoke in the pleasant voice.
"Where shall we go?" said Mrs. Singleton to Marion, when they had rolled through Scarborough and were out in the country. "We must show Brian all the points of picturesque interest in the vicinity. Do you think we have time to drive to Elk Ridge?"
"Oh, no!" answered Marion, quickly; "it is too late to go there. And I am sure there are other places nearer at hand which are quite as pretty."
"Do you think so?" said Mrs. Singleton, skeptically. "Pray tell us about them; for I know of no place half so charming in its surroundings and view as Elk Ridge."
Marion colored a little. She really did not know of any other place equal to Elk Ridge in picturesque attractions; but her dislike to the idea of revisiting it was so strong that she had spoken instinctively, without thought. She was always quick witted enough to see her way out of a difficulty, however, and after an instant's hesitation she answered:—
"I did not say that I positively knew of such a place, only that I was sure it must exist, and probably near at hand. Why not? The country seems to be very much the same in its features all about here."
Mrs. Singleton shrugged her shoulders.