“Ah! a young lady!” remarked Sir William, archly, as his glance fell upon the pretty figure; her face he could not see, for it was turned from him.
Rupert colored slightly at his tone, but he said nothing until he reached the side of his betrothed, then he remarked:
“Miss Alexander, I want to introduce you to the best friend I have in the world, my guardian, Sir William Heath.”
Virgie turned, a smile of pleasure on her lips, for she had longed to meet Rupert’s guardian, and something in the fair face which she lifted to him, in that delicate profile, in those refined features, in the glancing of her eye, and in the very movement she made, as she stepped forward to greet him, suddenly smote the baronet with the strangest sensation that he ever experienced, yet he never dreamed that he was looking into the face of his own daughter!
It almost seemed to him as if he had known her before in some previous state of existence—as if somewhere in the dim and misty past their souls had met and held sweet and genial converse.
For a moment he hardly knew whether he was in the body or out; a mist obscured his sight, a mighty ringing was in his ears, dulling every other sound, while the very earth seemed quaking beneath his feet.
“Uncle Will, you are ill!” was the startled remark that recalled him to himself, and made him suddenly realize that he was conducting himself very strangely.
“No, my boy, it is only a sudden dizziness; it will pass in a moment; it is gone even now, and I beg pardon for alarming you and your friend,” the baronet replied, as his vision began to clear and he met the beautiful dark eyes of the young girl fixed upon him with a look of deep concern.
He put out a hand to steady himself, even as he spoke, and she took a step forward, drawn toward him by a power of attraction she could not understand.
“Pray sit down, Sir William; have this rocker,” she said, as she drew forward a light but roomy willow chair for him.