The girl blushed vividly, and looked deprecatingly at me.
"You meant nothing ill-natured, Miss Adah," I said, gently; "it isn't in you. Come, now, and let me tell you and your mother what a good time I'm planning for you in New York," and we soon made the old dining-room ring with our laughter. Mr. Yocomb, Reuben, and the children soon joined us, and the lovers were left alone on the shadowy porch. From the gracious manner of Mr. Hearn the following morning, I think he rather thanked me for drawing off the embarrassing third parties.
CHAPTER XII
THE HOPE OF A HIDDEN TREASURE
The next day I lured Reuben off on a fishing excursion to a mountain lake, and so congratulated myself on escaping ordeals to which I found myself wholly unequal. We did not reach the farmhouse till quite late in the evening, and found that Mr. Hearn and Miss Warren were out enjoying a moonlight ride. As on the previous evening, all the family gathered around Reuben and me as we sat down to our late supper, the little girls arranging with delight the sylvan spoil that I had brought them. They were all so genial and kind that I grieved to think that I had but one more evening with them, and I thought of my cheerless quarters in New York with an inward shiver.
Before very long Mr. Hearn entered with Miss Warren, and the banker was in fine spirits.
"The moonlit landscapes were divine," he said. "Never have I seen them surpassed—not even in Europe."
It was evident that his complacency was not easily disturbed, for I thought that a more sympathetic lover would have noted that his companion was not so enthusiastic as himself. Indeed Miss Warren seemed to bring in with her the cold pale moonlight. Her finely-chiselled oval face looked white and thin as if she were chilled, and I noticed that she shivered as she entered.
"Come," cried Mr. Yocomb, in his hearty way; "Emily, thee and Mr. Hearn have had thy fill of moonlight, dew, and such like unsubstantial stuff. I'm going to give you both a generous slice of cold roast-beef. That's what makes good red blood; and Emily, thee looks as if thee needed a little more. Then I want to see if we cannot provoke thee to one of thy old-time laughs. Seems to me we've missed it a little of late. Thy laugh beats all thy music at the piano."
"Yes, Emily," said Mr. Hearn, a little discontentedly, "I think you are growing rather quiet and distraite of late. When have I heard one of your genuine, mirthful laughs?"