“Oh, no; I am sure she has not!” Edna exclaimed, so vehemently that for a moment Roy looked curiously at her, noticing how flushed, and eager, and excited she looked, and wondering at it.
Then suddenly there came to him the remembrance of Georgie’s words: “Wouldn’t it be funny if this Miss Overton should prove to be Edna in disguise?” and without at all believing that it was so, he resolved upon a test which should at once decide the matter, and put to rest any doubts which might hereafter arise.
Just across a little plat of grass Russell was busily employed with a clump of dahlias, and thither Roy turned his steps, with Miss Overton at his side.
Russell had seen Edna in Iona, and Roy had heard him say that he never forgot a face; so he stood talking to him several minutes, professing a great interest in the dahlias, but really watching him closely as he bowed very gravely to the young lady, and then resumed his work.
Edna had thought of Russell, and dreaded him as the possible means of her being detected; but in his case, as in Georgie’s, she trusted that the change in her dress and the style of wearing her hair, and the expression of her face from one of terror and distress to peace and happiness, would effectually prevent recognition. Georgie evidently had not recognized her, and Russell certainly would not; so she stood quietly before him, seeming in no haste whatever to get away, and even asked him some questions about a new variety of dahlia which she had never before seen.
For once Russell’s memory was at fault, for he did not know her; though he pronounced her a trim, neat sort of craft, as he stood for a moment watching her, as she walked away with Roy, who led her down a grassy lane toward the little cottage, where she had once thought to move him and his mother.
There was a half-sad, half-amused smile on Edna’s face, as she recalled the days of her delusion, and looked at the cottage overgrown with ivy, where one of Roy’s men was living, and with whom he stopped a moment to speak about a piece of work. It was nearly breakfast time now; and the two walked slowly back to the house, where Mrs. Churchill sat waiting for them in the cosey breakfast-room. The flowers Edna had gathered were upon the table; and Roy thought how bright they made everything look, and enjoyed his breakfast as he had not done for many a day. It was pleasant to have a young face opposite to him; pleasant to have a young life break up the monotony of his own; and Leighton Place seemed to him just now as it never had before; and, during the morning, while Miss Overton was engaged with his mother, he found himself thinking far more of her than of the croquet party which Georgie had planned, and which was to come off that afternoon.
CHAPTER XXXI.
OVER AT OAKWOOD.
Mr. Burton, of whom little has been said, was not a very frequent visitor at his own house in the country. He liked the dust, and heat, and noise of Wall street better than the green fields, and the tall mountains, and cool river, which encircled his country home in Oakwood. So the house on Madison Square was always kept open for him, and two or three servants retained to keep it, and there he slept, and ate his solitary meals, and lived his solitary life, while Mrs. Burton and Georgie were away enjoying the good which money and position can buy.