Miss Braxton had been sitting at the piano in the drawing-room playing
softly. The long windows looking out on the veranda were opened to admit
the balmy air, and before her visitor arrived she heard his approaching
footsteps.
"I am very glad you have come," she said, walking out to meet him; "I was
afraid that in the excitement of the race-track you might have forgotten
our engagement. I felt a little depressed this evening, and that is another
reason why I am glad to see you." She led the way back into the
drawing-room as she talked, and invited the Colonel to sit beside her on
one of the sofas. In the soft glow of the dimly lighted lamps he thought
she had never appeared so beautiful; and the rich fragrance of the
dew-laden roses and honeysuckle wafted in through the open windows seemed
to him to be an atmosphere peculiar to her alone, like the exceeding
sweetness of her soft, low voice and the easy grace of her movements.
In reply to her questions he told her of his adventures on far Southern
tracks, and of the careless, reckless life he had led. He had seen many
strange and stirring sights during his wanderings; and to her, whose young
life lead hitherto flown along as peacefully as a meadow-brook, it seemed
like a new and thrilling romance, with a living being in place of the
printed page.
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