A Son of the Hills

by Harriet T. Comstock

"Matilda has some iced tea for us," he said, "and then we will go inside."

Mrs. Treadwell greeted her hostess and sat languidly down, taking off, as she did so, her long dust coat and displaying an exquisite gown of pale violet.

There was a little desultory conversation, two cups of delicious tea and one of Matilda's choice sandwiches and then Markham led the way to the library.

Mrs. Treadwell took the deep leather chair, Levi lowered the awning over the west window, and courteously sat down opposite his visitor.

"It is years since we met, Mr. Markham," Olive Treadwell said; "but you have been very kind to me, meanwhile. I am not one to forget."

Markham nodded his head and lowered his eyes. After a decent pause Mrs. Treadwell continued, feeling her way through her remarks like a cautious person stepping gingerly over a mental ice pond. She always seemed to leave a subject open to more than one interpretation and by the lifting of Markham's eyebrows or the raising of his eyes she chose her footing. The raising of his keen eyes under the shaggy brows was very disconcerting and illuminating.

"I know, my dear Mr. Markham, that you are not as worldly as I am; I am confident that along certain lines of conventions we will differ now, as we have in the past, but, being worldly I cannot bear that an injustice should be done that would cause you to act in such a way as to defeat your own aims and ideals."

The eyebrows went up as if they were on springs, and Mrs. Treadwell leaped to a safer footing.

"Of course, when I refer to worldliness, I mean social worldliness. I have learned, I have been forced to learn, the justice of your once-proposed dealing with my Lans before he went to college. Your business sense cannot be questioned. Had the boy been placed in your hands then, I really believe his outlook on life would have been clearer and finer. He has associated with those who have coloured his views by—well, let us say, artificial lights. Still, the boy is the best of his kind—I will say that for him. I hope I can make you believe that I have come to you to-day entirely for your own best interests—not his!"

And now the steely eyes met the soft brown ones and demanded the nearest approach to truth that Olive Treadwell had to offer. She flushed and went back to her former place of safety and tried again.