Eagerly Moya turned to the young man. "May I tell all about it?"
He hesitated, then nodded shortly. "If you like."
Her voice vibrant with sympathy, Moya told the story in her ardent way. Kilmeny said nothing, but the corners of his mouth suggested amusement. Something of humorous derision in his blue eyes told Farquhar that the Coloradoan did not take the girl's admiration as his due. Rather, he seemed to regard it merely as an evidence of her young enthusiasm.
Lord Farquhar shook hands frankly with Kilmeny. "We've done you an injustice. If I had a son I would want him to have played the part you did under the same circumstances."
His wife backed him up loyally but with misgivings. The character of this young man might be cleared but that did not make him any more eligible. Her smile had in it some suggestion of the reserve of the chaperone.
"I'm glad to know the truth, Mr. Kilmeny. It does you credit. Your cousins won't be back to lunch but if you can stay——"
"I can't, Lady Farquhar. Thanks just the same. I've got to ride up into the hills to let the boys know it's all right. We'll be leaving to-morrow to go back to work."
"We go to-morrow too. I suppose this will be good-by, then." Lady Farquhar offered her hand.
Kilmeny turned last to Moya. "Good-by, neighbor."
Her eyes did not shrink as the small hand was buried for an instant in his brown palm, but the youth in her face was quenched.