Beth Norvell - Page 18/177

It was a small chapel they sought, situated at the extreme end of the

straggling street, and the worshippers were few. At the conclusion of

the ritual and the sermon the two walked forth together in silence,

their former brief intimacy a mere memory, neither realizing exactly

how best to resume a conversation which had been interrupted by so

solemn a service. It was Miss Norvell who first broke the constraint.

"You are evidently well acquainted with the intricacies of the

prayer-book," she remarked quietly, "and hence I venture to inquire if

you are a churchman."

"Not exactly, although my parents are both communicants, and I was

brought up to attend service."

"Do you know, I am glad even of that? It is a little additional bond

between us merely to feel interested in the same church, isn't it? I

was guilty during the service of thinking how exceedingly odd it was

for us to talk so frankly together this morning when we knew absolutely

nothing regarding each other. Would you mind if I questioned you just

a little about yourself?"

He glanced aside at her in surprise, all remembrance that they were

comparatively strangers having deserted his mind. It seemed as if he

had already known her for years.

"Most certainly question; I had no thought of any concealment."

She smiled at the confusedness of his words, yet her own speech was not

entirely devoid of embarrassment.

"It does appear almost ridiculous, but really I do not even know your

name."

"It is Ned Winston."

"Not so bad a name, is it? Do you mind telling me where your home is?"

"I can scarcely lay claim to such a spot, but my people live in Denver."

She drew a quick, surprised breath, her eyes instantly falling, as

though she would thus conceal some half-revealed secret. For a moment

her parted lips trembled to a question she hesitated asking.

"I--I believe I have heard of a Colonel Daniel Winston in Denver, a

banker," she said finally. "I--I have seen his house."

"He is my father."

Her shadowing lashes suddenly uplifted, the color once again flooding

the clear cheeks.

"You are, indeed, becoming a man of mystery," she exclaimed, affecting

lightness of utterance. "The son of Colonel Winston acting as utility

for a troupe of strollers! I can hardly believe it true."

Winston laughed.

"It does seem a trifle out of proportion," he confessed, "and I can

hardly hope to make the situation entirely clear. Yet I am not quite

so unworthy my birthright as would appear upon the surface. I will

trust you with a portion of the story, at least, Miss Norvell. I am by

profession a mining engineer, and was sent out, perhaps a month ago, by

a syndicate of Denver capitalists to examine thoroughly into some

promising claims at Shell Rock. I made the examination, completed and

mailed my report, and finally, on the same day your company arrived

there, I discovered myself in Rockton with nothing to do and several

weeks of idleness on my hands. I had intended returning to Denver, but

a sudden temptation seized me to try the experiment of a week or two in

wandering theatrical life. I had always experienced a boyish hankering

that way, and have a natural inclination to seek new experiences.

Albrecht was favorably impressed with my application, and hence I

easily attained to my present exalted position upon the stage."