"
"I knew naught of her writing you," was the reply--"naught at all. But
now that you are here, will you not tell her all?"
Dyck smiled grimly. "Where is she?" he asked. "I will tell her."
The mother pointed down the garden. "Yonder by the clump of palms I saw
her a moment ago. If you go that way you will find her."
In another moment Dyck Calhoun was on his way to the clump of palms, and
before he reached it, the girl came out into the path. She was dressed
in a black silk skirt with a white bodice and lace, as he had seen her on
her arrival in Kingston, and at her throat was a sprig of the wild pear-
tree. When she saw him, she gave a slight start, then stood still, and
he came to her.
"I have your letter," he said, "and I came to say what I ought to say
about your living here: you will bring blessings to the place."
She looked at him steadfastly. "Shall we talk here," she said,
"or inside the house? There is a little shelter here in the trees"--
pointing to the right--"a shelter built by the late manager. It has the
covering of a hut, but it is open at two sides. Will you come?" As she
went on ahead, he could not fail to notice how slim and trim she was, how
perfectly her figure seemed to fit her gown-as though she had been poured
into it; and yet the folds of her skirt waved and floated like silky
clouds around her! Under cover of the shelter, she turned and smiled at
him.
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