"Look at Baxter's face!"
Indeed, one look at the old engineer was confirmation enough.
Neale was made much of that night. The chief and his engineers, the
officers and their wives, all vied with one another in their efforts
to celebrate Neale's return to work. The dinner party was merry, yet
earnest, too. Baxter made a speech, his fine old face alight with
gladness as he extolled youth and genius and the inspiring power of
bright eyes. Neale had to answer. His voice was deep and full as he
said that Providence had returned him to his work and to a happiness
he had believed lost. He denied the genius attributed to him, but
not the inspiring power of bright eyes. And he paid a fine tribute
to Baxter.
Through all this gaiety and earnestness Allie's lips were mute, and
her cheeks flushed and paled by turns. It was an ordeal for her,
both confusing and poignant. At last she and Neale got away alone to
the cabin room where they had met earlier in the day.
They stood at the open window, close together, hands locked, gazing
out over the quiet valley. The moon was full, and broad belts of
silver light lay in strong contrast to black shadows. The hour was
late. The sentries paced their beats.
Allie stirred and lifted her face to Neale's. "What they said about
you makes me almost as happy as to see you again," she said.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293