At the first sound of his footstep, her hand paused on the keys and she turned to greet him, rising quickly, and easily.
The vision which greeted Stuart stunned him for a moment. A perfect blonde with laughing blue eyes, exactly the color of his own, slim and graceful, a smile that was sunlight, and a step that was grace incarnate.
And yet her beauty was not the thing that stunned him. He had discounted her good looks from a study of her father"s delicate face. It was the glow of a charming personality that disarmed him at the first glance.
She extended a slender hand with a smile.
"I"m so glad to meet you, Lieutenant Stuart."
He took it awkwardly, and blushed. He mumbled when he spoke and was conscious that his voice was thick.
"And I"m so glad to see you, Miss Flora."
They had each uttered the most ba.n.a.l greeting. Yet the way in which the words were spoken was significant.
Never in his life had he heard a voice so gentle, so tender, so appealing in its sincerity. All desire to flirt, to match wit against a charming girl vanished. He felt a resistless impulse to protect her from any fool who would dare try to start a flirtation. She was too straightforward, too earnest, too sincere. She seemed a part of his own inmost thought and life.
It was easy to see that while she was the pet of her father, she was unspoiled. Stuart caught himself at last staring at her in a dazed, foolish way. He pulled himself together and wondered how long he had held her hand.
"Won"t you play for me, Miss Flora?" he asked at last.
"If you"ll sing," she laughed.
"How do you know I sing?"
"How do you know I play?"
"I heard you."
"I heard you, too."
"Upstairs?"
"Just before you came down."
"I had no idea I was so loud."
"Your voice rings. It has carrying power."
He started to say: "I hope you like it," and something inside whispered: "Behave."
She took the seat at the piano and touched the keys with an easy, graceful movement. She looked up and smiled. Her eyes blinded him. They were so bright and friendly.
"What will you sing?"
"_Annie Laurie_," he answered promptly.
Stuart sang with deep tenderness and pa.s.sion. He outdid himself. And he knew it. He never knew before that he could sing so well.
On the last stanza the girl softly joined a low, sweet voice with his.
As the final note died away in Stuart"s voice, hers lingered a caress.
The man"s heart leaped at its tenderness.
"Why didn"t you join me at first?" he asked.
"n.o.body axed me, sir!" she said.
"Well, I ask you now--come on--we"ll do it together!"
"All right," was the jolly answer.
They sang it in duet to the soft accompaniment which she played.
Never had he heard such singing by a slip of a girl. Her voice was rich, full of feeling and caressing tenderness. He felt his soul dissolving in its liquid depths.
Throughout the lunch he caught himself staring at her in moments of long silence. He had for the first time in his life lost his capacity for silly gaiety.
He roused himself with an effort, and wondered what on earth had come over him. He was too deeply interested in studying the girl to attempt to a.n.a.lyze his own feelings. It never occurred to him to try. He was too busy watching the tender light in her eyes.
He wondered if she could be engaged to the fellow she went riding with? He resented the idea. Of course not. And when he remembered the care-free ring to her laughter when she said goodbye, he was rea.s.sured.
No girl could laugh a goodbye like that to a man she loved. The tone was too poised and impersonal.
He asked her to ride with him that afternoon.
"On one condition," she smiled.
"What?"
"That you bring your banjo and play for me when I ask you."
"How"d you know I had a banjo?"
"Caught the final tw.a.n.g as you tuned it on my arrival."
"I"ll bring it if you like."
"Please."
He hurried to his room, placed the banjo in its case and threw it over his shoulder. She had promised to be ready in ten minutes and have the horses at the door.
She was ready in eight minutes, and leaped into the saddle before he could reach her side. For the life of him he couldn"t keep his eye off her exquisite figure.
She rode without effort. She had been born in the saddle.
She led him along the military road to the juncture of the Smoky Hill and Republican rivers. A lover at the Fort had built a seat against a huge rock that crowned the hill overlooking the fork of the rivers.
Stuart hitched the horses and found the seat. For two hours he played his banjo and they sang old songs together.
"I love a banjo--don"t you?" she asked enthusiastically.