At Love's Cost

The gloom vanished from Stafford's face, and he checked Adonis into a

walk. The dogs were the first to see him, and they tore towards him

barking a welcome. Ida looked up--she had been walking with her eyes

bent on the ground--the colour rose to her face, and she stopped for an

instant. Then she came on slowly, and by the time they had met there

was no trace of the transitory blush.

Stafford raised his hat and dismounted, and tried to speak in a casual

tone; but it was difficult to conceal the subtle delight which sprang

up within him at the sight of her; and he looked at the beautiful face

and the slim, graceful figure in its tailor-made gown--which, well worn

as it was, seemed to him to sit upon her as no other dress had ever sat

upon any other woman--he had hard work to keep the admiration from his

eyes.

"I begin to count myself a very lucky man, Miss Heron," he said.

"Why?" she asked, her grave eyes resting on him calmly.

"Because I have chanced to meet you again."

"It is not strange," she said. "I am nearly always out-of-doors. What a

beautiful horse!"

"Isn't it!" he said, grateful for her praise. "It is a new one--a

present from my father this morning."

"A very valuable present! It ought to be able to jump."

"It is. I put it at a bank just now, and it cleared it like a bird. I

am very glad I have met you. I wanted to tell you something."

She raised her eyes from the horse and waited, with the quietude, the

self-possession and dignity which seemed so strange in one so young,

and which, by its strangeness, fascinated him. "I--spoke to my father

about the land: he is innocent in the matter. It was bought through his

agent, and my father knows nothing of anything--underhand. I can't tell

you how glad I am that this is so. So glad that--I'll make a clean

breast of it--I rode over this morning in the hope of meeting you and

telling you."

She made a little gesture of acceptance.

"I am glad, too. Though it does not matter...."

"Ah, but it does!" he broke in. "I should have been wretched if you had

been right, and my father had been guilty of anything of the kind. But,

as a matter of fact, he isn't capable of it--as you'd say if you knew

him. Now, there's no reason why we shouldn't be friends, is there?" he

added, with a suppressed eagerness.