But for Hernando’s restraining hand, she would have jumped from the rock on which they were sitting; by dint of engineering, however, he kept her within bounds until they reached the back yard, when she started for the house on a keen run. Rushing past Margaret, whose hands were uplifted in disgust, she burst into the dining-room with cheeks that vied with the roses on the breakfast table.
——“And this, Mr. Watson, is our daughter Cornelia,” said Mr. De Vere, laying his hand on her shoulder.
Like Jack, Cornelia was instantly won. All she saw was those same honest blue eyes and though his grip made her knuckle-bones ache, she bore it without flinching. His admiring glance made her cheeks rosier than ever.
“Now that you have seen us all, I am aware of an uneasy sensation in that region of my anatomy known as the stomach, and Margaret’s coffee smells mighty good. Shall we sample it?” said Jack, and without more ceremony they sat down to breakfast.
Contrary to her usual custom, Cornelia remained silent. She glanced uneasily towards the door and finally, unable longer to keep quiet, said, “I wonder what keeps Hernando?”
“Sure enough where is he? How thoughtless we are!” Mrs. De Vere answered, rising and starting towards the hall. “Ah, here you are, Mr. Truant,” she laughed, as the door at that moment opened. “Come and meet an old friend!”
“An ever friend,” he corrected, advancing toward Watson with extended hand.
The latter grasped it with a true Texan grip but his expression of sympathy gave place to one of amazement as he looked into that pure face. No marks of resentment or disease there, only an expression of absolute self-forgetfulness and charity for the weaknesses of others.
Watson’s vindictive feelings toward Mills faded away. Such were out of place here and his customary “doggone it” escaped without his knowing exactly why.
The bright morning sunlight streamed into the room as if to accentuate the happy faces around the breakfast-table. Watson, to all but Margaret, seemed to have simply dropped into his place. Her feelings were beyond analysis but she confidentially whispered to Reuben as she returned to the kitchen to get more hot muffins, “He aint no kwolty.”