“I’m safe—quite safe, dear boy!” she whispered, and, lifting her pale, beautiful face to his, she kissed him lightly on both cheeks. “Dear Leigh—dear brother!” she murmured. “I shall love you—toujours!”
Leigh, unused to being kissed, turned from white to red, but he felt as if he had received an accolade.
XV
The only member of the Carter family who left the house with a cheerful face on the following morning was Daniel. There had been practically nothing said at breakfast. Fanchon kept to her room, William briefly explaining the accident at the creek and adding that his wife had a chill. Mrs. Carter went up to see her, but was refused admittance. So was Emily. Mr. Carter read the newspaper more thoroughly than usual, and Leigh ate in a dream.
Daniel, aware of the strained atmosphere, found difficulty in suppressing a smile. He had encountered, at intervals, the expressive whites of Miranda’s eyes. She had carried up Fanchon’s breakfast, and she knew Job Wills, the hostler at the livery-stable, who had come by in the morning, on his way home after an all-night shift. What Miranda did not know about Mrs. William Carter’s ride wasn’t worth knowing. Her eyes nearly upset Daniel’s gravity; but he finally left the house, feeling a little guilty. It was wrong to find amusement in an incident that seemed so tragic to the others. Daniel therefore suppressed the twinkle in his eyes and set out for Judge Jessup’s office.
His way lay through the church lane and down to the lower corner of the main street. It was a way that, at this season of the year, was full of blossoming. It was past time now for the early flowers, but an old-fashioned clustering yellow rose climbed over the Paysons’ fence and tossed its fragrance and its falling petals to the passers-by like the confetti at a carnival. A scarlet-hooded woodpecker was climbing the tall trunk of the old oak by the churchyard gate.
Daniel walked slowly. Rapid motion increased his limp, but when he moved in his usual leisurely way his step only halted a little. He was no longer thinking of his own family, nor of the whites of Miranda’s eyes. His mind had reverted, as it usually did, to Virginia Denbigh.
He was not startled, therefore, when he saw her standing at the corner of the church. She was not wearing her big hat to-day, but an odd little bonnet-shaped affair that showed her pretty hair and her white forehead, and she was dressed in pink. He thought it was the most lovely shade of pink he had ever seen.
She smiled as she saw him coming.
“I was waiting for you, Dan.”