In Service

It was a drowsy day, and, besides, Baldos was not in a communicative
frame of mind. Beverly put forth her best efforts during the forenoon,
but after the basket luncheon had been disposed of in the shade at the
roadside, she was content to give up the struggle and surrender to the
soothing importunities of the coach as it bowled along. She dozed
peacefully, conscious to the last that he was a most ungracious creature
and more worthy of resentment than of benefaction. Baldos was not
intentionally disagreeable; he was morose and unhappy because he could
not help it. Was he not leaving his friends to wander alone in the
wilderness while he drifted weakly into the comforts and pleasures of an
enviable service? His heart was not in full sympathy with the present
turn of affairs, and he could not deny that a selfish motive was
responsible for his action. He had the all too human eagerness to serve
beauty; the blood and fire of youth were strong in this wayward nobleman
of the hills.

Lying back in the seat, he pensively studied the face of the sleeping
girl whose dark-brown head was pillowed against the corner cushions of
the coach. Her hat had been removed for the sake of comfort. The dark
lashes fell like a soft curtain over her eyes, obscuring the merry gray
that had overcome his apprehensions. Her breathing was deep and regular
and peaceful. One little gloved hand rested carelessly in her lap, the
other upon her breast near the delicate throat. The heart of Baldos was
troubled. The picture he looked upon was entrancing, uplifting; he rose
from the lowly state in which she had found him to the position of
admirer in secret to a princess, real or assumed. He found himself again
wondering if she were really Yetive, and with that fear in his heart he
was envying Grenfall Lorry, the lord and master of this exquisite
creature, envying with all the helplessness of one whose hope is blasted
at birth.