“I’ll speak to her about it to-day,” he said to himself, when returning from the station after bidding Tom good-by. “I ought to have done so at once and found out her opinion of it, and should, if it had not been for my wretched shyness and—and—Rena.”
He said the name hesitatingly, with a feeling that always between him and Irene there had been a thought of Rena. Now, however, when he knew absolutely that the latter was engaged his thoughts turned to Irene, and he could remember the expression of the white frightened face in the water, and the voice which called to him, “Rex, save me!” as the blonde head was going down. The look and voice had appealed to him strangely, awakening a throb of something he had never felt before for her. She had claimed his protection and in so doing had in a way claimed him, and he would be a dastard to pay no attention to her.
“Yes, I’ll call and see her and speak of the will. I guess I have made up my mind to accept it if she can,” he said, as Mrs. Parks’ house came in view. “Perhaps with no Rena in the foreground and no Tom to depend upon I shall get on better.”
He did get on a great deal better, and only felt his heart giving a few thumps as he sat waiting for Irene on the piazza, where he had seated himself. He had not asked for Rena. It was Miss Burdick he wished to see, and she came at once, looking a little languid but more attractive than he had ever seen her before. Her tea-gown was very becoming and the soft shawl around her shoulders was worn with a grace peculiar to herself. Her hair was a story or two lower and made her seem less formidable as he stood up to greet her. She gave him her hands, and a smile a little less than angelic was on her face as she said: “Oh, Mr. Travers, I am so glad to see you and thank you again for saving me from drowning. I didn’t know I was so shaken at the time, and even now I dream about it every night, and wake myself calling to you, as I did call, didn’t I?”
He still had her hands, and not knowing exactly what to do with them he continued to hold them, while he replied, “You called me, yes; or I might not have seen you until it was too late. I am glad I was there. Sit down. You do not seem very strong.”
He had backed towards the chair from which he had risen, and into which Irene sank as if exhausted. In this way he was rid of her hands, and felt better as he took another chair near her and began to examine her more critically than he had ever done before. She was perfect in form and feature, with a complexion smooth and fair as marble. Her voice was very sweet, and in her eyes there was a look which seemed asking him to break the silence and put an end to the strained relations between them.
“I believe I’ll take the plunge, but how shall I begin? What must I say first? Speak of the will, or ask her to marry me without any reference to it? I wish I knew,” he thought, and had drawn a long breath preparatory to the effort when Rena appeared in the doorway. “Thank God,” he said under his breath as he rose with a good deal of alacrity to meet her.
She did not know that he was there, and as something in Irene’s face warned her that she was de trop, she stopped only a moment and then walked away. But the spell was broken. Rex could not recall what he was going to say, and did not feel inclined to say it if he could. “Another time will do,” he thought, and then remembered the cool shade in the grove and the seat under the pines. That was the place where there was no danger of interruption, and he asked Irene if she had been there lately.
“No,” she replied; and, as if reading his thoughts, continued: “to-morrow, if it is fine, I am going to sit under the pines. I think it will do me good; it is so cool there and hot here.”
Providence certainly was leading him, and Rex hastened to say, “I will come round and go with you, if you like.”