The large eyes turned on his face scornfully.
"Handsomer than any of the ugly old Jockey Club!" she replied, with decision.
"We shall all be very jealous of this Yankee," said Markham. "Here we have been adoring you ever since you were a baby, ma'amselle, and you throw us over in a bunch for the sake of this charming stranger. You are cruel, unjust." He began to hum, softly, meaningly:
"'Do not trust him, gentle lady,
Though his words be low and sweet;
Heed not him that kneels before thee,
Gently pleading at thy feet.'"
The song went no further, for the girl looked at him with large eyes of sarcastic amusement and said, curtly:
"If I had such an atrocious voice as yours, I should not try to sing."
A sally of laughter greeted the words, and the sulky countenance relaxed into a smile.
Van Zandt studied the young face closely, his artistic taste charmed by its bright, warm beauty, full of Southern fire and passion.
"How came she, the nameless child of a circus-rider, by her dower of high-bred, faultless beauty?" he thought, in wonder, noticing the dainty white hands, the