The young man’s face wore an amused smile as he replied: “It is, indeed, singular and, except possibly the elimination of gases, I can think of no logical explanation. But its having any connection whatever with ‘Old Ninety-Nine’ strikes me as absurd. What say you, Miss De Vere?”
“Well,” she replied, with a tip of her head that reminded one of a pet canary, and which caused Hernando’s heart to beat unmercifully, “mystery has no charm for me, and I have never been able to enthuse over ‘Old Ninety-Nine,’ much to the disgust of your cousin Mary Genung and Eletheer. He belongs to a half mythical past and what more natural than that the ‘light,’ occurring as it does with such singular regularity, should be connected with the old chief? They are equally elusive.”
“I supposed love of the mysterious to be a strongly feminine attribute.”
“But there are mysteries and mysteries. Have you any sisters, Mr. Hernando?”
“No.”
“No sisters!” she repeated, with mock severity. “Then I fear that your education has been sadly neglected. Ask Jack what he thinks on the subject.”
Hearing his name mentioned, Jack joined them and a lively debate followed, so that it was after one o’clock before they went to bed, and two of them, at least, sought their pillows strangely disturbed in spirit. Hernando tossed restlessly on his soft bed. Try as he would to banish the vision, Celeste’s sweet face always appeared before him and, like some half-forgotten emotion revived, his heart beat tumultuously. A less discerning eye than his could easily see that Celeste was interested; but why did he find it so difficult to meet those eyes? A sense of uncongeniality with the atmosphere of this woman, the antitype of any he had ever known, disturbed. Chinatown interesting! For the first time in years a red flush of shame surged to his very temples, and he dimly comprehended that “We are begirt with laws which execute themselves.”
Celeste undressed, humming softly to herself. Her bright eyes were unusually brilliant and the color in her cheeks rivalled the roses in June. She flitted about the room, carefully folding each garment as it was removed.
Presently Eletheer, who was nearly asleep, said impatiently: “Celeste De Vere, for goodness’ sake put out that light and come to bed. Don’t you hear the roosters crowing?”
“In just one minute,” Celeste answered, brushing out her curls.