The Money Moon | Page 9

them with the red glow of the sunset about her,

was handsomer, lovelier, statelier, and altogether more desirable than
all the beautiful ladies of King Arthur's court,--or any other court
so-ever.
But now Small Porges finding him so silent, and seeing where he
looked, must needs behold her too, and gave a sudden, glad cry, and ran
out from behind the great bulk of "King Arthur," and she, hearing his
voice, turned and ran to meet him, and sank upon her knees before him,
and clasped him against her heart, and rejoiced, and wept, and scolded
him, all in a breath. Wherefore Bellew, unobserved, as yet in "King
Arthur's" shadow, watching the proud head with its wayward curls, (for
the sunbonnet had been tossed back upon her shoulders), watching the
quick, passionate caress of those slender, brown hands, and listening to
the thrilling tenderness of that low, soft voice, felt, all at once, strangely
lonely, and friendless, and out of place, very rough and awkward, and
very much aware of his dusty person,--felt, indeed, as any other
ordinary human might, who had tumbled unexpectedly into Arcadia;
therefore he turned, thinking to steal quietly away.
"You see, Auntie, I went out to try an' find a fortune for you," Small
Porges was explaining, "an' I looked, an' looked, but I didn't find a
bit--"
"My dear, dear, brave Georgy!" said Anthea, and would have kissed
him again, but he put her off:
"Wait a minute, please Auntie," he said excitedly, "'cause I did
find--something,--just as I was growing very tired an' disappointed, I
found Uncle Porges--under a hedge, you know."
"Uncle Porges!" said Anthea, starting, "Oh! that must be the man Mr.
Cassilis mentioned--"
"So I brought him with me," pursued Small Porges, "an' there he is!"
and he pointed triumphantly towards "King Arthur."
Glancing thither, Anthea beheld a tall, dusty figure moving off among
the trees.

"Oh,--wait, please!" she called, rising to her feet, and, with Small
Porges' hand in hers, approached Bellew who had stopped with his
dusty back to them.
"I--I want to thank you for--taking care of my nephew. If you will come
up to the house cook shall give you a good meal, and, if you are in need
of work, I--I--" her voice faltered uncertainly, and she stopped.
"Thank you!" said Bellew, turning and lifting his hat.
"Oh!--I beg your pardon!" said Anthea.
Now as their eyes met, it seemed to Bellew as though he had lived all
his life in expectation of this moment, and he knew that all his life he
should never forget this moment. But now, even while he looked at her,
he saw her cheeks flush painfully, and her dark eyes grow troubled.
"I beg your pardon!" said she again, "I--I thought--Mr. Cassilis gave
me to understand that you were--"
"A very dusty, hungry-looking fellow, perhaps," smiled Bellew, "and
he was quite right, you know; the dust you can see for yourself, but the
hunger you must take my word for. As for the work, I assure you
exercise is precisely what I am looking for."
"But--" said Anthea, and stopped, and tapped the grass nervously with
her foot, and twisted one of her bonnet-strings, and meeting Bellew's
steady gaze, flushed again, "but you--you are--"
"My Uncle Porges," her nephew chimed in, "an' I brought him home
with me 'cause he's going to help me to find a fortune, an' he hasn't got
any place to go to 'cause his home's far, far beyond the 'bounding
billow,'--so you will let him stay, won't you, Auntie Anthea?"
"Why--Georgy--" she began, but seeing her distressed look, Bellew
came to her rescue.
"Pray do, Miss Anthea," said he in his quiet, easy manner. "My name is

Bellew," he went on to explain, "I am an American, without family or
friends, here, there or anywhere, and with nothing in the world to do
but follow the path of the winds. Indeed, I am rather a solitary fellow,
at least--I was, until I met my nephew Porges here. Since then, I've
been wondering if there would be--er--room for such as I, at
Dapplemere?"
"Oh, there would be plenty of room," said Anthea, hesitating, and
wrinkling her white brow, for a lodger was something entirely new in
her experience.
"As to my character," pursued Bellew, "though something of a
vagabond, I am not a rogue,--at least, I hope not, and I could
pay--er--four or five pounds a week--"
"Oh!" exclaimed Anthea, with a little gasp.
"If that would be sufficient--"
"It is--a great deal too much!" said Anthea who would have scarcely
dared to ask three.
"Pardon me!--but I think not." said Bellew, shaking his head, "you see,
I am--er--rather extravagant in my eating,--eggs, you know, lots of 'em,
and ham, and beef, and--er--(a duck quacked loudly from the