But the warning horn blew, and they prepared to resume their journey.
On entering the coach, they found the other passengers, three in number, already on the back seat. But they were gentlemen, who voluntarily and promptly gave up their seats to the two ladies and their escort. The coach started.
Their route now lay through some of the wildest passes of the Blue Ridge. And here the enthusiasm of Rosa Blondelle burst forth. She said that she had seen grand mountains in Scotland, but nothing—no, nothing to equal these in grandeur and beauty!
And Lyon Berners smiled to hear her speak so, as one might smile at the extravagant delight of a child, for as a child this lovely stranger often seemed to him and to others. And she, with her sweet, blue eyes, smiled back to him.
And Sybil looked and listened, and felt again that strange wound deepening in her heart—that strange cloud darkening over her mind.
CHAPTER VIII.
BLACK HALL.
|
Seest thou our home? ’tis where the woods are waving In their dark richness to the autumn air; Where yon blue stream its rocky banks are laving, Leads down the hills a vein of light—’tis there.—Hemans. |