His Sombre Rivals | Page 6

nineteen or
twenty years of age, and that she was not what he would term a society
girl--a type that he had learned to recognize from not a few
representatives of his countrywomen whom he had seen abroad, rather
than from much personal acquaintance. It should not be understood that
he had shunned society altogether, and his position had ever entitled

him to enter the best; but the young women whom it had been his
fortune to meet had failed to interest him as completely as he had
proved himself a bore to them. Their worlds were too widely separated
for mutual sympathy; and after brief excursions among the drawing-
rooms to which Hilland had usually dragged him, he returned to his
books with a deeper satisfaction and content. Would his acquaintance
with Miss St. John lead to a like result? He was watching and waiting
to see, and she had the advantage--if it was an advantage--of making a
good first impression.
Every moment increased this predisposition in her favor. She must
have known that she was very attractive, for few girls reach her age
without attaining such knowledge; but her observer, and in a certain
sense her critic, could not detect the faintest trace of affectation or
self-consciousness. Her manner, her words, and even their accent
seemed unstudied, unpracticed, and unmodelled after any received type.
Her glance was peculiarly open and direct, and from the first she gave
Graham the feeling that she was one who might be trusted absolutely.
That she had tact and kindliness also was evidenced by the fact that she
did not misunderstand or resent his comparative silence. At first, after
learning that he had lived much abroad, her manner toward him had
been a little shy and wary, indicating that she may have surmised that
his reticence was the result of a certain kind of superiority which
travelled men--especially young men--often assume when meeting
those whose lives are supposed to have a narrow horizon; but she
quickly discovered that Graham had no foreign-bred pre-eminence to
parade--that he wanted to talk with her if he could only find some
common subject of interest. This she supplied by taking him to ground
with which he was perfectly familiar, for she asked him to tell her
something about university life in Germany. On such a theme he could
converse well, and before long a fire of eager questions proved that he
had not only a deeply interested listener but also a very intelligent one.
Mrs. Mayburn smiled complacently, for she had some natural desire
that her nephew should make a favorable impression. In regard to Miss
St. John she had long ceased to have any misgivings, and the approval
that she saw in Graham's eyes was expected as a matter of course. This

approval she soon developed into positive admiration by leading her
favorite to speak of her own past.
"Grace, you must know, Alford, is the daughter of an army officer, and
has seen some odd phases of life at the various military stations where
her father has been on duty."
These words piqued Graham's curiosity at once, and he became the
questioner. His own frank effort to entertain was now rewarded, and the
young girl, possessing easy and natural powers of description, gave
sketches of life at military posts which to Graham had more than the
charm of novelty. Unconsciously she was accounting for herself. In the
refined yet unconventional society of officers and their wives she had
acquired the frank manner so peculiarly her own. But the characteristic
which won Graham's interest most strongly was her abounding
mirthfulness. It ran through all her words like a golden thread. The
instinctive craving of every nature is for that which supplements itself,
and Graham found something so genial in Miss St. John's ready smile
and laughing eyes, which suggested an over-full fountain of joyousness
within, that his heart, chilled and repressed from childhood, began to
give signs of its existence, even during the first hour of their
acquaintance. It is true, as we have seen, that he was in a very receptive
condition, but then a smile, a glance that is like warm sunshine, is never
devoid of power.
The long May twilight had faded, and they were still lingering over the
supper-table, when a middle-aged colored woman in a flaming red
turban appeared in the doorway and said, "Pardon, Mis' Mayburn; I'se
a-hopin' you'll 'scuse me. I jes step over to tell Miss Grace dat de
major's po'ful oneasy,--'spected you back afo'."
The girl arose with alacrity, saying, "Mr. Graham, you have brought me
into danger, and must now extricate me. Papa is an inveterate whist-
player, and you have put my errand here quite out of my mind. I didn't
come for the sake of your