The following day the girls began to watch early for the advent of James and Henry. Once, as they sighted several horsemen, they ran down the road, only to be disappointed. It was late in the afternoon, nearly dinner time, when at last they came, tired and dirty. Berenice wondered what the large, woolly things were over their trousers; why their boots had such high heels; what all the rope and “fixin’s” about their saddles were used for, as she peered cautiously from the upstairs window.
When Bess finally saw them returning she tried in vain to persuade Berenice to go with her to meet them, and now she decided that the “boys” should not be told until dinner time of the presence of the guest.
Henry slipped from his saddle when he saw Bess coming toward them, and lifting his big hat and holding the impatient horse with the other, said: “Let me be first to congratulate you. James—” but he was interrupted by James hurrying forward and greeting his sister with, “Congratulations, Sister; met Davis early this morning and he told me all about it.”
West had taken the reins of James’ horse and led him on toward the gate. The girl did not see his face pale under the dark skin, nor had she detected any emotion in his voice as he spoke. She felt just a little hurt at his unconcern, for she had thought that he might care.
The brother, with his arm placed affectionately about his sister, listened to her brief plans and heartily approved of them all.
“I am especially glad, Sister, because I have just made up my mind to return again to my law practice soon. My health seems to be fully restored, and while I enjoy this life, still I believe it to be to my greater interest to return East. And then, too, sometime—I hope—that is—perhaps Ber—” but he was abruptly interrupted by his sister uttering a sudden oh-h-h! and hurrying into the house.
Not long after Mrs. West called “dinner” from the dining-room. James and Henry arose from their respective easy chairs, laboriously and stiffly, and slowly sought their places at the table. Mrs. West also stood behind her chair waiting for the occupants of the other places. James thought he heard a suppressed giggle at the door, but did not face about. Henry had just noticed that two places were still vacant, and his slight curiosity was immediately relieved by two very tall, beautiful, smiling women advancing into the room.
James was about to request his tardy sister to hasten, when, by half turning, he came face to face with Berenice Morton. So completely was he surprised that he could not speak a word. She advanced and held up her hand, which he grasped in both his own as he whispered—“Bee!”
Bess laughingly pulled her aside, and leading her over to the other side of the table waited an instant for Mrs. West to introduce the stranger to her son. Berenice returned the firm pressure of the man’s hand as she smiled frankly into his deep eyes. The tempting viands were being shamefully ignored. One girl was too busy with her merry jests, while another could scarcely answer all the interrogatives which were being hurled at her by James.
Mrs. West wondered at her son’s loss of appetite and softly asked if he were ill. Sick? Yes! Heart-sick—miserably, utterly, hopelessly heart-sick. Ill with the pain that knows no healing—with a pain that knows no balm! With an enforced smile he assured his mother that he was only tired, and made an effort to join in the merry conversation.