The following Sabbath, which was the second after the Estill visit, the younger members of the Moreland and Warlow families drove down to the Estill ranch. As they dashed up to the great pile of creamy stone buildings, smothered in elms and sheltered on the north by towering, tree-clad cliffs, our young friends noticed with wonder the signs of age which the vine-mantled and time-stained building presented.
It was a well-dressed, animated group that alighted from the handsome Warlow carriage,—Maud in gray silk and dotted tulle; Grace in a "Dolly Varden" costume, with her broad, white hat wreathed by daisies; Ralph in superfine black, with lawn tie and white vest, his handsome face ruddy with health and happy contentment; Scott, quiet and thoughtful, in Puritan-gray; while Rob gloried in the splendor of spotless white, his small, well-shaped boots glittering like jet. He had given just enough cock to his jaunty straw hat to correspond well with the general air of pertness conveyed by a slightly freckled nose, dimpled cheeks, dusky with tan, and a pair of round, hazel eyes, that always danced with fun. But it was golden-haired, pansy-eyed Clifford, with his Grecian face, smooth, glossy cheeks, tinged with bronze, but fresh and boyish still, who would rivet the gaze longest; for there was a look of pride and strength about him which caused one to forget the boutonnière of fescue and lobelia, blue as his own eyes, and the rich-textured suit of seal-brown, which he wore with the easy grace of a planter's son.
The long frontage of the stately mansion was broken by gables, balconies, and quaint dormer windows, and on the broad platform, or terrace, in front of the building a fountain flashed in the sunlight. The terrace was walled with creamy stone, and railed about by a heavy balustrade of white magnesian limestone. In the angles and at the top of the steps were great vases of the same alabaster-like material, down the sculptured sides of which trailed tangled masses of vines with their blossoms, scarlet, gold, and blue.
As our friends drove up, they saw Miss Estill sitting on the buffalo-grass which coated the lawn with its thick carpet of pale green. She appeared to be twining a garland of flowers about the neck of a pet antelope, as it stood with its head on her shoulder in an attitude of docile affection.
As the young lady arose to greet the guests, the graceful animal bounded away to the shrubbery, where, after peeping a moment with shy wonder at the new-comers, it skurried off to the top of the cliff behind the dwelling, snorting and stamping its foot angrily at the intrusion.
After greeting her friends cordially, Miss Estill led the way through a tessellated hall, where the walls were frescoed and hung with elegant paintings, past the winding stairs of dark, rich wood, and to a cool, long room to the east, the floor of which was covered with India matting, swept by the lace curtains that shaded the lofty windows from the fierce sunlight. An air of quiet refinement and simple luxury pervaded this apartment, which spoke volumes, in a mute way—all very favorable to the Estill family.
When Mrs. Estill came into the room, Mora presented her new friends, who were charmed by the elder lady's welcome; but when Clifford was introduced she gave him a swift, searching glance from her keen, blue eyes, that brought a flush to his face at her look of scrutiny and valuation. She must have read him aright, however, for she gave her hand to young Warlow in a very friendly way, and he thought he detected a sub-tone of graciousness in her welcome to himself a shade deeper than when she had addressed the others.
Mrs. Estill was a fair, dignified matron, whose flaxen hair was now slightly tinged with gray; but as Clifford contrasted the creole daughter with her, he failed to detect any resemblance between the two.
The elder lady must have divined his thoughts, or observed his look of wonder at the strange dissimilarity existing between herself and her only daughter, for she appeared to be embarrassed and constrained in her attempts at entertaining the guests; but Mora was so animated and vivacious that her mother's disquiet was unnoticed by all save Clifford, who vaguely wondered at this show of uneasiness over such a trifle; yet he had occasion before many weeks had elapsed to recall it all with a strange significance.
When Mr. Estill came in, and Mora had presented her new friends, the ruddy, genial old ranchman said with a smile:—