With his flute of reeds, a stranger,
Wanders piping through the village,
Beckons to the fairest maiden,
And she follows where he leads her,
Leaving all things for the stranger!’”
“How strange is human nature!” he mused, aloud; then, decisively, again: “There is no other way but to bring her to Verelands. Young, beautiful, willful, she needs a guiding and restraining hand. Yet, mother, it will be hard upon you to have our sweet home life broken up by this.”
“Do not think of me. I am ready to do my duty,” she said, hurriedly, and there was a minute’s silence.
Norman looked grave, even reluctant; yet finally he said:
“I will write to Mr. Hinton and ask him to bring Thea West to Verelands immediately. I will write Thea, too, and lay my commands upon her to accompany him, for I can fancy that she might rebel against his authority.”
The letters were promptly written and dispatched, and a beautiful suite of rooms was prepared for the coming guest.