“Mark Sutherland! Is it possible!”
“Mrs. Vivian! Miss Vivian!” exclaimed Mark, extending a hand to each, impulsively.
“Why, how strange that we should meet here!” said Valeria.
“A most pleasant surprise, indeed!” responded Mark.
“The surprise as well as the pleasure is mutual, I assure you! But how did it happen?”
“I am sure I do not know.”
“Nor I. Can you guess, Rose?” and Mrs. Vivian turned to her step-daughter, who remained silent, with her fingers in the unconscious clasp of Mark Sutherland’s hand.
“I inquired only in jest, but now I really do believe you could tell us something about this,” persisted the lady, looking intently at the maiden.
Rosalie’s pale face slightly flushed; she withdrew her hand, resumed her seat, and took up her work. Colonel Ashley, if he felt, certainly expressed no surprise at this re-union; but as, with stately courtesy, he handed his niece to the head of the table, said, “As Mrs. Vivian arrived only yesterday afternoon, and retired at once to rest from the fatigue of her journey, and as Mr. Sutherland reached here last night, there has been no time for conversation about our arrangements.”
“Ah, yes; that’s all very well; but you’ll never make me believe that Rose is not at the bottom of this, somehow,” laughed the widow, shaking her jetty curls as she sat down at the table. Her eyes met those of Rosalie for an instant, and the spirit of mischief was quelled. She became silent on that topic, and soon after changed the subject, entering into gay conversation about St. Gerald Ashley and his sudden fame.